#wonderful and accepting server

[voidedtea]

[ID in alt]

my pieces for @strawberrij's thespius fashion zine!! quite the endeavour and adventure that turned out pretty neat i think :]

special thanks go to @ratchetclankarecute for posing/cloth references + the bulk of the image descriptions! that first image would Not have happened without them <3

[illithiddies]

The bg3 fandom is so big and active rn I can't imagine there aren't at least a few servers out there that put like... a reasonable limit on the sort of dark content that can be discussed in it while still also allowing nuanced and mature discussion about it, especially considering the game's canon topics.

It's such a bizarre delicate balance but there has to be something right?

[baeshijima]

— spoils of war

as heir to the throne, you were more than prepared to face the consequences of losing a war. your duty will forever remain for as long as you breathe, and if that meant bearing the weight of countless sacrificed souls and carrying it with you for the rest of your life, or even being forced to watch your land burn before your eyes was the price you had to pay, then so be it.

the last consequence you could have ever expected and were the least prepared for, however, was an offer of marriage from the ruler of the victorious nation.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 3.5k wc, fluff, slightly suggestive ending, royalty!au, marriage of convenience (kind of), vague mentions of war & blood, mentioned assassination attempt, mentions of having children (very vague and in the "heir to the throne" kind of way), use of "mydeimos" and "mydei", reader is having an existential crisis; mydei is, um, mydei-ing, written pre-3.0

A/N : is this ooc? um... we will find out haha !! (the moment i saw this man i was wondering how i could royal au-ifiy him (outside of him already being a crown prince, that is). i thought of him being a mercenary or personal guard, but @sfznyxio ty for putting the words 'king' and 'mydei' in the same sentence when u showed his drip in the server bc this idea was born and now i am terminally unwell for him 🙏 but also how did this turn into an actual fic when it was literally a 2 para brainrot in discord... where did this plot come from...)

King Mydeimos, present ruler of Kremnos Kingdom, is infamous across the lands. He is a rumoured tyrant thought to have killed his bloodline in order to obtain this position, whose name alone strikes fear into many, and the very same being who just won the war against your own kingdom.

When marching through the capital to reach the steps of the palace after seizing victory and bathed in the lights of glory, his troops following close behind, you thought he would demand for the materialistic spoils such as the kingdom’s trove, maybe choose to seize control over the defeated land and its troops, or perhaps even wreak further havoc within the castle walls. Given the name he has built for himself, it certainly wouldn't surprise you if he decided to forgo all formality and instead brandish his sword like a blood-bathed barbarian.

And so when he appears in the palace entrance, the setting sun giving his rugged appearance a far more... put together look than expected (you refuse to admit the enemy's ruler to be... handsome, of all things), a recitation of prayers hammered into your head throughout the years of etiquette training spring to mind. If you're destined to fall here, you at least wish to perish with thankful thoughts!

...At least, that was the original plan.

So why is it now you're hearing him ask your father and mother, the king and queen of this now defeated kingdom, for your hand in marriage? Where did this sudden formality come from? No, why is he suddenly bowing to his defeated enemies? And— lord almighty above, did he really have to do this here and now? In front of your nation's high council and his own men, no less!

It is safe to assume every jaw except for Mydeimos' dropped into the nether realm, all eyes gawking at his tall, unperturbed figure bowing in respect towards your parents in the centre.

Having probably sensed the rather awkward air bubbling amidst the dumbfounded troops, your parents turn to you in wait for your decision. Despite the apparent pleas in their eyes for you to not agree to such a ludicrous turn of events, what choice do you really have other than to accept? Who knows what this so-called tyrant could do should you refuse this offer when he is being so lenient!

An audible gulp escapes the base of your throat the moment his scalding gaze locks onto you after your hesitant words of approval, searing a trail of where his eyes trails onto your skin.

Seriously, you haven't been on the receiving end of many — if any — wars, but you're almost positive they don't end this... pleasantly, for a lack of better words.

(Who would've thought you would be a spoils of war, as opposed to the national treasure trove...)

Set to depart when the sun rises, there is little time to gather your bearings and your belongings. Servants are bustling while your parents crowd around you, asking if you're really going to go through with this and, “You can say no! If they don't take your rejection well, we can smite them with our army!”

To that, all you have to say is, “...What army? They're all dead.”

They didn't take that very well, if their concerning increase in flowing tears have anything to say about it.

The send-off is nothing too grandiose, save for the entire palace standing at the gates shouting farewells through tear-streaked wails and blowing handkerchiefs. Your parents are at the forefront of it all. Your mother holds your hands as she tells you to return promptly if it gets too much regardless of the consequences (you appreciate the sentiment, but you don't want to burden your family nor your nation because of a dislike), while your father stands before Mydeimos with an order for him to treat you well and respectfully and, “If you damage even a mere hair on my beloved child's head, I will have your head on display!”

...Perhaps that would have been more threatening if not for the slight tremble of his legs and waver in his voice but, again, you appreciate the sentiment. Mydeimos, if anything, takes it in stride with a calm nod of his head and a promise to take care of you. Really, does anything other than the battlefield phase him...?

Soon you're in the carriage and settled opposite your soon-to-be husband, on your way to your new life with a heavy heart. Is this what all your training to take over the throne has surmounted to? Have all your efforts and dedication spent on being the perfect heir for your kingdom simply come down to being wed to an enemy nation's ruler?

Well, perhaps “enemy” is not the right term anymore; not when both your kingdom's are now in a mutually beneficial alliance, along with the promise for one of your heirs becoming next in line for your kingdom's throne.

Ha! What makes him so sure you will have more than one between you?

...Was what you had asked back when he first made the declaration to your parents, only for him to respond in kind with, “If you'd rather adopt, then we can do so.”

(Bastard. Can't he break composure at least a little?)

As the ride drags on, silence permeates. Whether it is the lingering nerves you hid from your parents or this suffocating intimidation confined within the small carriage space, one question still remains at the forefront of your mind: why did he decide to marry you? Truly, it miffs you. He could have just left you to suffer in the downfall of your nation if he wished to do so, or even let you stay as the heir to the now-allianced kingdom.

Upon questioning his motives for your hand in marriage, his response was merely a slow blink before uttering, "The council wouldn't stop pestering me about getting married."

Oh. Was it really that simple of a reason?

Lips pursed, you press a little more. “Then why did you add benefits, such as an alliance with my kingdom? Even if you, King Mydeimos, were to just—”

“Mydei.”

“—just cut down…” trailing off at the sudden interruption, you blink at his cross-armed figure seated across from you. “Oh, um, what?”

“Mydei,” he repeats once more, attention solely focused on you. “No need to bother with formalities. Just refer to me as such.”

“Oh, well, alright... Mydei?” At your uncertain tone, he nods, as though urging for you to carry on. “Right, well, as I was saying... What was I saying...?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “You were asking why I offered your kingdom a mutually beneficial alliance when I have the means to cut down the nation with brute force and take what I want through violence.”

“Oh, right…” Huh. Did you say all of that? Well, you certainly were thinking of it, but were you that harsh in your wording? Considering how he recited it all without hesitation, you probably did say all of that, with him being a pretty good listener and you perhaps needing to think over your words before you speak them. “So what is your answer to my curiosity?”

“I simply thought you would be happier if I spared your land and made an offer both of us would benefit from.”

“...I see. Well, thank you for your consideration.”

“Think nothing of it.”

And so the ride continues in silence once more, though this time you find yourself more at ease compared to the prior situation. You, however, still have your doubts about the benefits he gave with the alliance proposal, amongst the absurdity of this entire situation.

...Is the man sitting before you really the feared tyrannical ruler people made him out to be? Surely he is being far too merciful for someone of such reputation. There has been no threats, no coercion (well, if you don’t count the whole marriage fiasco as such, but you did willingly agree to it…), no usage of violence — did people perhaps badmouth the wrong monarch?

Then again, the majority of his prowess and achievements stem from the battlefield. Was all this information just mere hearsay from those jealous of his noteworthy feats, or do their words truly hold some merit in their claim? And really, what do you know about Mydei? From his thoughts, to his motives, to the reasoning behind each action… you know nothing.

Well, considering how he has entertained each of your whims thus far, he has the ability to entertain one more, right?

“Mydei, if I may,” you start, looking to him for approval to continue. When he nods encouragingly, you continue. “You said you made an offer we would both benefit from. While I acknowledge the military and protection we receive from you, what benefit do you reap from us?”

Had you not been eyeing him so intently, perhaps the subtle stiffening of his muscles or twitch of his fingers would have remained unnoticed. 

“Apart from the high quality agricultural and material trade, I have obtained one more thing. Rather than a benefit, however,” he trails off, gaze shifting to the carriage floor. His voice tapers slightly, subtleties of fondness seeping into his tone. When his eyes move to meet your own once more, your mouth runs dry at the undeniable warmth which swirls within his gaze, the rapid pounding of your heart betraying your thoughts. “I consider meeting and having the privilege of marrying you to be the most priceless of rewards I could have obtained.”

(...Who knew a subtle smile could be so beautiful.)

Settling into your new role as the co-ruler of Kremnos was a far easier transition than you’d anticipated. Despite some initial apprehension at your sudden intrusion into the citizen’s lives and you being from another nation, the reactions you were greeted with upon arrival were well-within your expectations.

Apprehension? Sure. Skepticism? Great. Concern over your abilities? Fantastic! Immediate, wholehearted acceptance with preparations already made for your arrival? Um… Come again?

Yes. Compared to the civilian’s very normal, completely expected doubt and uncertainty about you being thrust into the role of their new co-ruler, the same cannot be said about the palace staff. The moment Mydei helped you out of the carriage, a line of servants were at the ready, lined up with the necessary preparations already made to look after you. Your dumbfoundedness must have been quite obvious for Mydei to take note, squeezing your hand with enough pressure and warmth to anchor you down and fill you with comfort before guiding you through the tunnel of awaiting servants ready to receive his orders.

While a little unnerving the palace staff’s ready acceptance and preparation for your arrival may have been, you cannot deny the flicker of warmth which surges when spotting something that reminds you of home.

That particular fruit you enjoy only found in your homeland? An abundance has been procured with the palace gardener equipped with all the necessities used to grow it, alongside a bed of your favourite assortment of flowers already beginning to show signs of blooming.

There was a certain dessert you enjoyed partaking in? Look no further, for the palace patissier has already mastered all the techniques needed to make it the most delicious version you have ever tasted!

Oh, you’re used to having a certain textile in each of your fabrics and certain colours are more to your preference? Don’t worry, the temporary bedroom used until your wedding is made to your liking, and once the wedding is complete your shared bedroom will have all the necessary arrangements!

Truly, the experience of having practically everything needed for your stay to be comfortable already prepared was an… interesting one, to say the least.

It doesn’t escape you, however, the manner in which everyone is rigid in demeanour and stiff with etiquette when in the presence of Mydei. Ducking their heads to avoid eye contact, tensing their bodies as though afraid one subtle movement will trigger his wrath, rushing away as quickly as possible once given their respective orders.

He doesn’t appear bothered; if anything, matters outside of you and battle don’t seem to move him at all. He merely regards everything as a duty to be carried out, an honour to uphold and see through so long as he bears the weight of his title. 

Despite his admitted nonchalance for most matters, you have seen him be expressive on several accounts.

Like that time you were both strolling through the extensive garden holding pleasant conversation about each other’s day, stopping to admire the roses and ready to sing the gardener’s praises, only to catch the smile and unfairly soft expression directed towards you. (Seriously, the difference a smile and relaxed expression can make on his features should be criminal.)

Or the days you choose to visit the training ground and catch the battle-hardened fervour of a warrior which radiate so starkly within his typically stoic demeanour, easily parrying and holding his own against even a large number of his knights rushing to best him, only to hastily avert your eyes when he takes note of your presence and amble his way towards you with a towel in hand. (Well, his torso is practically on full-display all day, but somehow seeing him entirely shirtless after a particularly gruelling training is a little… different.)

Not to mention that one night during your third month in Kremnos wherein an assassin managed to slip through surveillance and sneak into your room, only to be thwarted mere moments before the fatal strike as a sword pierced their torso, their cries of agony quickly silencing and the flecks of warmth clinging to your skin promptly discarded as the deafening hammering of your heart drowned out everything in the vicinity. You weren’t sure how long you were out of it for, but the image of Mydei’s distraught expression and uncharacteristic loss of composure is a sight you’re certain will never leave, much like the rare vulnerability found in his fragile, broken whispers of, “Not again... I thought I’d lost you again. Why must fate be so cruel? Please… Just this once, stay with me until the end.”

(You never really questioned how Mydei caught wind of the attempt or what he meant by his whispered words, too caught up in your near-death experience to properly process anything, but the immeasurable relief upon being embraced within his familiarity was undeniable as you melted into him, allowing him to stay by your side for the night and then the following nights soon after as his attentiveness only grew.)

The time from your first arrival has flown, and now, five months later, the long-awaited wedding is finally being held.

The ceremony itself was nothing too grand. Despite Mydei asking for your thoughts and preferences on how the ceremony should be held, the ideas he’d suggested aligned perfectly with your own preferences: a simple ceremony with the necessary guests in attendance for privacy, a ceremonial carriage ride through the capital to honour the matrimonial bond between you alongside quelling any uncertainties the citizens may have, and to end it all off with a banquet to diminish the doubt brewing from within the nobility of high society.

Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch. Your parents attended the ceremony and greeted you with a tearful embrace upon seeing you in your wedding attire. As it turns out, they will be staying as guests within the palace for about a week, all thanks to Mydei’s preparations. Apparently.

(Upon asking your parents who is taking care of the kingdom’s affairs in their place, you probably should have suspected it to be the trusted, overworked aide who has been by your father’s side since young. Despite his already cushy salary, he should get a raise for having to deal with all this.)

And as you stand here now, chatting idly with some of the knights in attendance who were present in the whole proposal fiasco, you find yourself believing that perhaps your new life here will not be as bad as you feared.

You have to admit, letting loose every now and then is rather rewarding. After all those mental and passive aggressive battles with some of the nobles before eventually gaining their respect and approval (you didn’t have strict heir training just to have nothing to show for it!), you can now relax and let the night pass by. With the knights talking joyfully amongst themselves, you’re sure the night will fly by.

Their topic of conversation shifts constantly, ranging from battle tactics to which is the best amongst savoury, sweet, or spicy to debates about whether that one maid and apprentice chef are secretly dating.

Eventually, the topic of conversation loops back around to your newly sealed marriage; you know, the whole premise for the current celebration. One of the knights, tickled a light pink in the face from the warmth of the venue and the drink half-emptied in hand, turns to you with a jovial grin.

“Y’know, until you came into the picture, I’ve never seen our king so happy and expressive. It’s a nice change.”

Another chimes, “Yeah! I’ve definitely seen him smile a few times when you visit the training grounds! Though he still glares daggers into my soul when we spar…”

“That’s because you suck and His Majesty gets a migraine just from the sight of your sloppy footwork.”

“Wha— hey! You’re the one with a weak swing and can’t even break the training dummy in one strike!”

“I’m telling you the material is tougher on the ones I’m given!”

A breathy laugh escapes you at their back and forth. Sometimes you forget how playful the knights can be outside of their intimidating demeanour, though you suppose their leader is similar in his own right.

Taking a light sip from your drink, the chatter of the knights slowly die down. Just as you’re about to ask if everything is alright, a warmth you have become able to identify looms over your back. It doesn’t take a genius to know why they stopped their bickering.

“What were you all discussing?” Mydei asks, moving to stand beside you with a drink of his own in hand. You weren’t expecting to see him until later, what with how swamped he appeared with greetings and talks of his own.

His knights seemed to have thought the same as you, if their apparent dumbfounded reactions were anything to go by.

“Oh, um, well…”

“We were, uh…”

“We were just chatting like good ole pals, haha…”

Stifling a laugh at their poor attempts, you decide it would be best to give them a helping hand. Mydei’s curious gaze certainly isn’t helping their case.

With an amused sigh you begin, “Nothing much. Just how much they admire and look up to you—”

“We were discussing how your dear spouse thoroughly enjoys the sight of your body at the training grounds!”

A deafening silence.

…You take back every nice thing you said about them. You hope Mydei exchanges all the training dummies except for his own for super-ultra-mega tough ones, just so they can feel the embarrassment you currently do when they are unable to break a mere training dummy.

First off, how did they even know this highly confidential information?! You most certainly were not openly ogling at your now-husband! (At least, you hope you weren’t…)

Second of all, here you were trying to help them save face from all their bickering, and what do you get in return? A loss of your own!

And third of all, that is blatant slander! In front Mydei, their king and commander, and your spouse, no less!

Ha ha. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events.

In hopes of salvaging what remains of your thoroughly battered and bruised image, And there it appears, you quickly turn towards Mydei, a myriad of retorts ready to fire on the tip of your tongue. It fizzles out just as quickly as it appears upon what you find yourself gazing at. Though barely noticeable, the lingering remnants of his laughter which spill from that wretched curve of his lips never fails to speed up this traitorous heart of yours. And when his unabashedly amused gaze meets your own mortified one, your mind regains its former desperation.

Before you can think up a retort in a last-ditch effort to save face, he swiftly leans into your ear and whispers, “I would like to hear more about this. Perhaps you can enlighten me when we return to our quarters later.”

…Nevermind. Perhaps it is Mydei who should be getting the super-ultra-mega tough training dummy so he can taste humiliation for the first time in his life.

(However, despite the horrendously dizzying flush you are currently victim to, if it meant seeing his warm gaze and heart-melting smile more often then, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind embarrassing yourself in front of him every now and then.)

(Not too often, of course. That would be too much.)

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

trivia !!

wanted to add this section in case some might be wondering why i went with the timeloop trope yet again (if u did not figure that out from the bits and pieces throughout the fic + mainly the assassination attempt scene then, um, oops. haha.) BUT !! i actually decided to do a spin of his lore for it.

so in his drip market post, it says:

Kremnos, swallowed by mist! City riven between chaos and war! The blood of patricide flows through its royal line, and its god bears the title of calamity.

The undying Mydeimos, the lion apart from the rest. O Chrysos Heir that seeks the Coreflame of Strife, you must suffer a thousand deaths, be bathed in blood on the path home, and bear the madness of fate alone, for one was must slay a god to become one. Iron-hooves pound across the wilderness for the campaign, and must eventually soak in the blood of their homeland.

and mydei is also known by the following aliases "the last prince" and "the undying". now all of this info is more than likely referring to his ability to survive torturous pain, as opposed to dying and and resurrecting a thousand times (or maybe i am right... who knows...), but my first thoughts went to how he had the ability to come back to a certain point in this past after the so-called fate drove him to madness which he alone must bear.

in this context, i wanted for him to be a king who suffered a thousand deaths, but lived through a thousand lives of the same never-ending fate, doomed to watch the fall and bear the madness and watch as you in each and every lifetime suffer at the hands of a fate he cannot save you from. and that is why he marries you because he knows you even if you do not know him and will always choose to lead the same path if it means he has you by his side once more.

...does this make sense? maybe it does, maybe it does not, but what matters is it made sense to me ;w;

oops got a little carried away there with lore and theories um !! haha !! anywho that is enough from me ,,, if u read this trivia then hi !! ty for sitting through and reading my deep dive into the crumbs of lore and how i put my own spin on it :'D

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader 🐍🦐

TAGS: Fluff; a little angst; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Jamil’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 6.220 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I would also like to say: I kept the endings "sama" and "bocchan" because I thought they would make more sense, and since "sama", from what I researched, is gender neutral it could be used with Yuu. I don't know if Jamil's shawl has a specific name. And I'm not good with color names.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy 🐍

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / (Jamil) / Floyd / Jade / Azul / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Kalim seemed to have enjoyed the dream-to-dream journey, and even compared it to his carpet rides. But Vil didn't look or feel very well. It seemed like some kind of motion sickness specific to those dream travels. Everyone agrees that Vil should rest. Silver and Ortho stayed with him in the shade, while you, Grim, Sebek, Kalim and Idia, or rather his tablet, went for a walk to analyze the world of that dream a little more.

After walking around for a while, Sebek comments that it is as hot as in Kalim's dream. Which is explained by the fact that both dreams take place in Scalding Sands. Kalim recognizes the Camel Bazaar and suggests that you all should buy Vil some coconut juice, it's cold and refreshing and might help him feel better. Grim agrees, but Idia and Sebek fear that this could cause problems because they don't have the local currency. However, Kalim assures that everything will be fine.

Kalim orders, to everyone's surprise (or almost everyone's), TEN coconut juices. The vendor gives him a heap of whole coconuts with an opening at the top and a straw each. Kalim encourages you all to try a sip and you do so. It really felt good in that heat. Kalim prepares to leave with the coconuts when the vendor calls his attention.

“Excuse me, sir! You need to pay.”

“Pay? Sorry, I don't have any cash on me.” Kalim responds too naturally and tells the vendor that he can just bill his house like usual.

But the vendor didn't know what Kalim was talking about. When Kalim told him his name the vendor recognized the name, however...

“Al-Asim, huh? If that's true, that's even less reason to put anything on a tab. You think you can dine and dash at MY stall? You've got some nerve, kiddo!”

“This is going south fast...” You say. “There's no returning the juice now that we've drunk it...” You approach Kalim to talk to him about that situation and that's when the vendor finally sees you well.

“OH! (Y/N)-sama!” The vendor practically stutters your name and completely changes his attitude. “I-I didn't see you were in this group. Are they your friends? I am so deeply sorry for my bad manners. If you don't have money with you either, I can just bill the Viper's house if you'd like.”

“The Viper's house?” Kalim wonders. “Why Jamil's house?”

“Hey! (Y/N)!” Grim whispers loudly at your feet. “Just say yes and get us out of this!”

You accept the vendor's offer and he lets you go with all those coconuts and a smile on his face. But a slightly scared smile. Returning to Vil, Silver and Ortho, you all discuss what happened.

“So, (Y/N) seems to have more power here than Kalim.” Ortho observes. “And apparently they are also somehow connected to Jamil Viper's house.”

“But how?” Sebek wonders. “And why?”

“Well, by the way the vendor reacted when he saw (Y/N)...” Idia says. “I have an idea... but let's analyze this place better first.”

Vil and Ortho exchange glances with each other, probably thinking the same thing as Idia.

“We can start by checking my place.” Kalim suggests. “Jamil's place is on our grounds.”

Arriving at the place where Kalim's house would be, it was deserted... Literally.

“Wh... This can't be right... MY HOUSE IS GONE! The main building, the annexes, Jamil's home, they're all gone! Where'd everybody go?!”

A local resident who was passing by asked if you were tourists and told you that the Asim Palace had a change in ownership years back. The new owner had it relocated to high ground on the outskirts of town. He didn't know who the new owners were, but he know that the Asims had to give up their house after their business failed.

You go look for the palace.

You all go to where the palace was now and Kalim is shocked to discover that it was true that his house really did get relocated to higher ground. And not only that, but it looked like the exterior's been repainted too. The roofs have gone from teal to red, and the walls from white to black.

“Hey!” A Guard suddenly approaches. “What are you kids doing here? This is a private－ ah! (Y/N)-sama! It's you, and Kalim. My apologies, I hadn't recognized you from afar. Jamil-bocchan has been looking for you to go to school together.”

“Jamil?” Kalim steps forward. “Jamil is here?!”

“What kind of question is that? This is where Jamil-bocchan lives... Viper Palace!”

You discover that the one who bought up Kalim's home was Jamil's father, the head of the Viper family. He bought that manor from the Asims when they were in sore need of money, and know the Vipers were the richest family in Silk City.

After the guard's explanation, you hear music coming from somewhere and an elephant emerging through the front gates at the head of a whole parade. You see that the guy riding the elephant was none other than Jamil, wearing a uniform just like the one the fake Jamil wore in Kalim's dream, but this one was red and black instead of turquoise and white.You also see the dreamer's silver bird around his head.

“Make way! Coming through!” Another guard announced. “Make way for Jamil-sama!”

You all step aside.

“Why are YOU making way, Kalim?” The guard who was with you questioned him. “Take this parasol and join the procession!”

Since you were distracted looking at that guard and Kalim, you got startled when you suddenly felt something grabbing you by the waist and lifting you into the air. When that thing finally lets go of you, you are in Jamil's arms and you realize that that thing was the elephant's trunk.

“Where were you, my desert bloom? You are quite late.” Jamil asks you and then looks at your clothes. “Have you been shopping? Hm... no offense, but I've seen you in better clothes.” He smirks.

Jamil lands you on the elephant's back, but you can't stand on your own and cling to Jamil. He laughs.

“You haven't gotten used to it yet, have you? But let me just change those clothes real quick. You can't go to school without a uniform.” He uses his magic pen to turn your NRC uniform into a uniform similar to the black and red clothes with gold jewelry he was wearing. “Much better~” he says in a lower, slightly seductive tone. “Black already looks good on you, but red looks even better.” He grabs you firmly by the waist to hold you, before turning to the people in the procession behind you. “Get marching, and don't break formation!”

“Jamil looks like he's having a ton of fun!” You hear Kalim say right behind the elephant.

“You there, quiet down! Less talking, more walking!” Jamil orders him.

You look back and see two lines, in front of one of them is Sebek, followed by Vil and lastly Silver, in front of the other is Kalim, followed by Ortho and lastly Grim, who you imagine would be complaining.

“So...” You try to chat with Jamil. “How long is the path to school again?”

“Is it just me, or are you more spacey than usual?” He looks at you slightly suspicious. “Unless... Oh, you're asking because you're tired from shopping, aren't you? Well, Jahar Sahir College is on the other side of the city, but the path is straight so you'll see we'll get there in no time. Enjoy the parade.” His watchful gaze returns to the people behind the elephant. “You there － your parasol is drooping. Hold it properly!”

“Whoops, sorry! I'll fix that right away.” You hear Kalim apologize.

Jamil is very suspicious and attentive. If you take too many risks, he might realize that you are not one of the NPCs from his dream. And it’s not a good idea to take that risk more than 2.5 meters above the ground.

Suddenly, in the midst of the euphoria of the moment, Jamil pulls you to lie on his other arm, making you lose your balance and scaring you. Even if you shouted in fright, it was just another scream in the middle of the cheers. Jamil laughs before pulling you back to your feet and grabbing you to hold you steady. If you hug him or cling to him, he will like it even more.

“What was that?!” You ask, it really looked like you were going to fall off the elephant.

“Ha ha ha!” He laughs in a way you don't remember ever seeing. “I just felt like surprising you.” He smirks. “Or maybe it was a little punishment for disappearing on me and arriving so late to the parade.”

And as another surprise he kisses your lips quite lovingly, but only for a couple of seconds. When he breaks the kiss, he laughs at your surprised face.

“I know, I don't usually do this with so much attention on us. But no one will dare tell us anything.” his smile had a hint of menace.

“All right, we're here.” Jamil finally announces. “Parasols closed, elephants to the stables!”

Jamil leads your elephant to a special platform for you to get off, and he helps you, giving you his hand to support you. You look around and see a school just like the school in Kalim's dream, but once again red and black instead of teal and white. And the statue in the fountain was also different. It wasn't the Ruler of the Oasis's, but you recognized this one, it was a statue of the Sorcerer of the Sands, the same man from the Scarabia Dorm.

“We should go look for Kalim.” Jamil bends his arm to invite you to intertwine yours with his. You do so and he starts walking towards the fountain. “Kalim! Where are you?!” He shouts displeased.

“Oh, I'm right here!” Kalim waves with a big smile. “Hello!”

“Don't give me that!” Jamil retorts. “How can you loaf around without looking after your boss...? Wait. What's with that outfit? Did you botch your color-changing magic again?”

It was as if all that joy of his had disappeared as soon as he approached Kalim. It was a little sad to see, both from Kalim and Jamil's side.

“Huh? I didn't botch this.” Kalim explains. “It's supposed to look like the Ruler of the Oasis. Cool, right?”

“The Jahar Sahir College uniform uses traditional red and black colors like what the illustrious Sorcerer of the Sands wore. What were you thinking, bleaching them to your whims? The nerve.” Jamil takes his magic pen and changes the colors of Kalim's clothes to the same as his.

“Ooh, the colors changed! These are pretty nice too, actually. Thanks, Jamil!”

“I think you mean to say, 'Thank you very much, Jamil-sama, sir.’” Jamil corrects with an offended expression. “Honestly... You'll never let go of that pampered rich boy demeanor, will you? Look. The Asim family owes the Viper family more money than you could pay off with a lifetime's worth of work. So you should try to make yourself at least a LITTLE useful to me.”

“Jamil!” You say, as if asking him to moderate his words.

“I know, you don't like it when I'm like this to Kalim, but he needs to know his place.” He looks at you strangely, almost sulking. “You always had a soft spot for him that I never understood.” he addresses the group again. “By the way, who are you people? Jahar Sahir College isn't open for the general public to just waltz in.”

Silver explains that they are from Night Raven College and Vil says that the reason they came to Scalding Sands was a Film Research Club project, but that they had heard so much about Jahar Sahir College that they had to visit it. He said they were looking for the reception and it was shortly after that Kalim spotted them and approached them. Jamil seems suspicious at first, but after thinking about it for a while he supposes there is nothing strange about it.

“Considering their shabby attire and vapid expressions, I'm sure they're simply students.” Jamil murmurs.

“Hey, I heard that!” Grim informs.

“Oh dear, I beg your pardon.” Jamil says smugly. “I let my inner voice slip out there...”

“Wait a minute...” Grim notices the way Jamil talks to him. “You don't recognize me?”

“Recognize you?” Jamil repeats, confused. “My apologies, but I don't remember ever meeting a little beast like you.”

“WHAT?! You know (Y/N) but you don't know me?!”

“What does one thing have to do with the other?” Jamil turns to you. “Do you know this strange cat?”

As Grim complains that he's not a cat, you think about what to say. But what should you say? That you don't know him? That you met him once? But when? And how? The more time you let pass, the more suspicious Jamil would become.

“We crossed paths with (Y/N) before the parade.” Vil saves you. “I think Grim developed a special liking for them after meeting them.”

You see Grim look surprised at that excuse and then lower his ears a little sad, reluctantly accepting his new role in Jamil's dream.

“I can see why.” Jamil smirks. “I've never met anyone who wasn't enchanted by (Y/N). Which is ironic coming from someone who is not a mage. Allegedly.” He looks at you with that mischievous smile and raised eyebrow.

“Forgive my indiscretion if so.” Ortho says. “But would I be correct in concluding that you two are a couple?”

“Yes, you would.” Jamil answers casually.

“However, you said that they are not mages, but they are students of Jahar Sahir College?”

“An exception was made due to personal circumstances.” Jamil said defensively. “Nothing you need to... worry about.” He finished in a slightly threatening tone despite the smile. “Returning to the subject of your visit. As the student council president, I would be a far more fitting person to show you around campus than Kalim.”

“Oh, truly?” Vil smiles. “How fortunate for us to receive hospitality straight from the student council president himself.”

“I wouldn't want Kalim giving them the impression that our students are subpar.” He mutters.

Jamil says that, personally, he is interested in hearing about Night Raven College. He knows about the Dark Mirror and says that Scalding Sands also has long been a flourishing producer of magical artifacts.

“There's the Magic Flying Carpet, the Great Serpent Staff, the Hourglass of Clairvoyance...” He looks at you for a split second with a smile on the corner of his mouth, when talking about the hourglass. “And the Magic Lamp.”

Jamil says that the Sorcerer of the Sands himself employed such artifacts in his great deeds, and that to this day many people in Scalding Sands, including students from Jahar Sahir College and Jamil himself, are interested in them. He also brags about his family's treasure being bursting with artifacts collected from all over the world.

“I'd love to hear more about the ones housed at your school.”

“Ooh, wow! You liked (Y/N)? I had no idea!” Kalim says. “I'm so happy for you two. And you're the student council president? That's great, Jamil!”

“Why are you acting like this is the first you've heard of it? Not only do you GO to this school, but you and (Y/N) are friends. Now stop standing around and prepare a proper reception for our guests”

“Whoops! Right, I'm supposed to work for Jamil. Okay, a proper reception means a party, right? I got this!”

Kalim starts by asking someone to prepare a party, until Jamil reminds him that this was HIS job. Then Kalim says that a party needs drinks, but instead of going to the kitchen to get some, he uses his signature spell, Oasis Maker, to make it rain.

“You fool!” Jamil says to Kalim as he uses his own shawl to cover you and try to keep you from getting too wet. “Who goes around spraying water without any warning?!”

“We'll need food, too.” Kalim continues, oblivious to what Jamil was saying. “I'll go grab some food from the kitchen! Be right back!” The rain dissipates as he runs away towards the interior of the main building.

“What's gotten into him?” Jamil mutters again. “He's never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's usually not THIS bad.”

“Maybe he's just too excited that we have guests from so far away?” You suggest.

“Trying to alleviate his incompetence as always.” he mutters to you, slightly disapprovingly, before turning back to the others. “Ahem... I'm sorry you all had to see that.”

“Please, don't worry about it at all.” Silves tells him.

“Here you are, Jamil - uh, I mean, Jamil-sama!” Kalim comes back. “I brought a bunch of your favorite foods. Look! I've got a whole pot of curry, some dates... Oh, and lots of silky melons! Where should I put them?”

“I had a bad feeling, but seriously... Who brings the food out before they even set out rugs and tables?! This is beyond bad. You're utterly useless!”

“Ah hah hah! Sorry about that! I've never done this sort of things before.” Kalim apologizes, good-humored as always. “Jamil-sama, could you hold the pot of curry? (Y/N), Grim, you hold the dates and melons.”

“Mrah! Don't plop a whole pile of melons on my head!” Grim appeals unsuccessfully. “Geez, this is heavy!”

“Okay, I'll get some rugs next!” Kalim announces excitedly and runs away again.

“Hey, wait! What kind of staff makes their bosses and guests do the work?!”

“I thought you hated dates.” You say, looking at the large basket full of them that Kalim passed into your hands.

“And I do.” Jamil confirms. “At least someone remembers. Ahem... I'm so sorry about this.” he apologizes to Grim too. “I'll keep the dishes levitated with magic. You don't have to hold them.”

“Ooh, it's all floatin' now.” Grim says relieved. “That's much better!”

“Ugh, that dimwit gets on my last nerve. Mom and Dad are far too lenient. And so are you.” Jamil tells you.

“I see you don't like that about me.” You concluded as the others spoke amongst themselves.

“It's not that I don't like that side of you and you know it. But there are people who don't deserve it.”

“Well, I think Kalim deserves it.” You defend him.

“How stubborn.” Jamil sighs. “But I'd be lying if I said I disliked it. Depending on the situation, it's quite attractive.” he smirks.

You didn't know, but while the two of you were talking about Kalim, the others were also talking among themselves about Jamil and you.

Grim wondered if Malleus's spell wasn't supposed to be giving people happy dreams, but Jamil was in a snit, he didn't seem all that happy to him. The Shroud brothers concluded that this dream followed the same pattern as Vil's dream. Kalim was a source of stress for him, just like Neige was to Vil. But Kalim exerts an outsized influence over Jamil's personality and capabilities in reality. Removing a figure that influential would make the dream more prone to major paradoxes. Unlike Grim, and maybe that's why Jamil didn't remember him.

“Nonetheless...” Ortho sees Jamil smiling at you, even after that silly little argument. “He seems pretty happy with (Y/N).”

“True, he seems more relaxed with them.” Silver agrees.

“We must not deviate from the main point!” Sebek reminds them. “We need to make Jamil realize this is a dream as quickly as possible!”

“Right.” Silver agrees. “Between this place and the bazaar, Jamil's definitely got a strong imagination. I don't think a simple shock would do the job. How do we approach this...?”

Kalim returns, saying he went to Zahab Market and got some nice pieces from the rug merchant. Vil comments that those "nice pieces" look like they'd cost an arm and a leg. Jamil finally seems satisfied with Kalim's work, taking the opportunity to boast again about his family being the richest and most influential in the city.

“Anyway, check this out! Doesn't this carpet take you back?” Kalim shows him a carpet almost identical to the flying carpet of his that you knew, but instead of red, this one was purple.

“Take me back? Why would it?”

It was a regular, unenchanted replica of the flying carpet. Kalim talks about a time when the two of them and his father went to a rug merchant, Kalim thought it was a real flying carpet, spread it out on the ground and walked right onto it. That got him a scolding.

“How could I forget? The look on that merchant's face when you stepped on a vintage silk carpet with your muddy shoes－HRK!” The dream world begins to distort. “Wait... I would never take someone as overeager as Kalim to a high-end store. Rgh... What's going on?! I suddenly feel dizzy...”

Seeing Jamil wavering, the others encourage Kalim to keep talking. Kalim remembers a time when they snuck out of the manor to visit the Camel Bazaar and drank coconut juice together, but Jamil says that Kalim was the one sneak out on his own and Jamil had to scramble after him. Then he remembers a time, just before they enrolled in Night Raven College, when Jamil used his signature spell to make the bad guys fight each other to get him and Kalim out of trouble. But this time Jamil insisted that he didn't know what he was talking about.

Kalim says that he was always the best and most dependable friend he could have, and that he trusted everything would work out just fine as long as he left it in Jamil's hands. But he was the only one of them who felt that way and now he know that Jamil hated it all along.

“That's why you used (Y/N), Grim, and the students in Scarabia to try and get me kicked out and sent home, right? Winter break sure threw me for a loop. I was super crushed when you betrayed me and told me you hated me.”

“Used (Y/N)?! How dare you... I would never... I... I did... What I did... That Winter break...? Betrayed? Augh! My... My head!”

The world distorts a little more.

Kalim says he doesn't know what Jamil is thinking, but he knows that the person he is right now isn't the person he really wanted do be. He wanted to be the best version of himself, but that isn't this.

“Remember who you truly are!” Kalim transforms his clothes into his Scarabia Housewarden uniform, which makes Jamil start to remember.

“What was that scene just now? It shouldn't be familiar to me, but... it is. The... The real me is...”

“JAMIL-SAMA!” You hear someone shout, and a second Kalim, wearing a Jahar Sahir College uniform, appears running.

“There are two Kalims!” Silver says. “That means...”

“Yes, it must be the darkness.” Vil completes.

“Jamil-sama, when I heard you went to school earlier than usual. I scrambled to catch up...” Fake Kalim says, worried. “Oh no, how could this be?! Please, hold on! I'll get you to a doctor! Guards! GUARDS!”

The ground was painted black and Jamil began to sink rapidly into darkness, surrounded by a dark fog that prevented him from seeing you all well. And guards of black goop formed to prevent you from approaching them.

“Kalim...?” Jamil says with some difficulty.

“Yes, that's right. I'm the real Kalim, your loyal retainer.”

“Huh? Jamil, look again! That's not me!” the real kalim tries to warn him.

“He's an assassin sent to end you.” the fake Kalim tries to convince him “Don't listen to a word he says.”

“Wait...” Jamil looks directly at you with heavy eyelids struggling to stay open. “(Y/N)... they...”

Black goop rises from the ground and forms a figure, a perfect copy of you, also wearing Jahar Sahir College's uniform.

“I'm right here, my love.” your copy tells him. “They had the nerve to impersonate your beloved as well. But I'm here now. The real me. The real (Y/N). Look in my eyes. As long as you stay here, you can be a ruler forever. Money, land, freedom, love... Everything is yours!”

“Yes... That's the truth...” Jamil gives in. “You're absolutely right, both of you...”

“Wait! Trust us, not them!” Kalim shouts again. “JAMIIIL!”

But none of that stopped the darkness from swallowing Jamil.

“Stop disturbing Jamil-sama's sweet dreams, you street rats!” The false Kalim commands you.

“As if we'd listen to you!” Sebek retorts. “Let's do this!”

You all change your clothes and fight the darkness. And after defeating it, Kalim jumps into the pool of black goop without hesitation behind Jamil, followed by all of you.

When you open your eyes again, you see that you’re in the Hallway of Scarabia Dorm. By the red light that dimly illuminated the place and the dark fog, you realized that it was the same scenario as when Jamil overbloated. Suddenly, you hear a creepy laugh you've heard before and you all go to the lounge.

“I did it... I finally got Kalim ousted from school and claimed the position of housewarden for myself!” Jamil is the center of attention in the room, wearing his drom uniform, and had that psychopathic smile on his face. “Bring on the food and drinks! This calls for a celebration. The foolish king is gone, and the true power behind the throne has risen in his place!”

While the Scarabia students follow his orders, you see Azul next to Jamil with that red glow in his eyes.

“Wait a minute, those eyes...”

“Hey, (Y/N). You put it together too, right?” Grim tells you in a whisper. “Looks like Azul ain't fakin' it like he did during winter break. He's really under Jamil's control.”

Most of the dorm's students, who were all actually the darkness in disguise, were gathered in the lounge. You were decidedly outnumbered. Idia says that the best thing would be to get into a more advantageous position and make a surprise attack, so you will quietly make your way behind the students and then launch a coordinated strike on cue. Silver says that Idia should give the signal and the others would carry out the attack.

“Ahh, I feel on top of the world. So this is freedom! How sweet it is.” Jamil keeps chattering. “The biggest thorn in my side, Kalim, is gone. Azul has fallen into my hands.” he looks to his right side to see Azul standing right there. “And (Y/N)...” He looks to his left side, but finds no one. “...is trying to escape again? *sigh* Bring them back to me!” he orders the Scarabia students.

Silver pulls you behind a pillar and you all hide.

“Mrah! What do we do now?!”

“Hand (Y/N) over.” Idia says to everyone's surprise.

“What?! Have you gone insane as well?” Sebek protests as quietly as he can. “What about the surprise attack?”

“Listen, if Jamil really likes (Y/N) he won't hurt them.” Idia explains. “And (Y/N) can help distract him and provide a more effective surprise attack.”

Sebek, Silver and Grim are reticent, but you are the one who takes the initiative and gives yourself to the Scarabia students while the others remain hidden. Two students hold you by the arms and take you to Jamil. And to your surprise, as soon as they let go of you the darkness forms shackles around both of your wrists.

“It pains me to see you reduce to this, (Y/N).” Jamil tells you and pulls you by the chains of the shackles to bring you closer to him. “But you insist on resisting me. Oh, and those clothes... Let's give you more suitable ones, shall we?” He uses his magic pen to turn your NRC uniform into a Scarabia Dorm uniform. He laughs with satisfaction. “A beautiful desert bloom such as yourself should be on the arm of the most powerful housewarden in Night Raven College. What do you say, my dear? Why refuse to be my new Vice Housewarden, and partner?”

“To be honest... I also have a crush on you, Jamil.” you admit and he smiles, too pleased. “But not this version of you. The real you. Or rather, the best version of you, that I know exists behind this senior psychopath.”

“The... real... Hrk!” his head hurts and the world distorts a little, but Jamil pushes you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

“I'll teach you some respect... but until then...” he orders that the Scarabia students grab you by each arm and lift you up. “Let's just calm that rebelliousness of yours for a while.”

As the students hold you by the arms, he holds your chin to make you look at him. You knew what he wanted to do to you and struggled to keep him from using Snake Wisper on you. You are saved by Kalim, who attacked Jamil before the signal with a solid blow.

“Wh... Kalim?! What are you doing here?!”

Silver and Sebek attack the students who were holding you and free you from the shackles by breaking them.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Silver asks you, holding you in his arms in case you need a little comfort.

“Huh? I don't understand...” Sebek says. “The students aren't attacking us...”

“YOU BIG DUMMY!” You hear Kalim say.

“D... Dummy?!” Jamil responds in disbelief.

“The biggest one there is!” Kalim punches him again. “How can you treat (Y/N) like that?! I may not have realized you liked them, but I know you would never do these things to them. You don't want to force them to like you. You want them to like you for who you are. That's why you started getting nervous whenever we met with (Y/N), right?

“Nervous? ... Hrk!”

The dream world begins to distort as he remembers the first time he felt good around you and then begins to worry if you secretly hated him for what he did to you and Grim on Winter break.

“You don't want to use them, you don't want to deceive them.” Kalim continues. “And the same applies to competing with others. What you wanted wasn't a prize earned through dirty trickery! And you know it! Wake up right this instant, Jamil!”

“What I wanted? ...Hrk!”

The world distorts again with another memory: Jamil telling Kalim to shut up! Telling him not to give him orders! That he was through following other's orders! That he was going to BE FREE!

“Argh, you keep trying to tell me my business...” Jamil says, annoyed. “What would someone as oblivious as you even know about me?!” he punches Kalim.

And the two of them begin to fight while insulting each other. Until the insults are reduced to one adjective at a time between punches. Cynic, Imbecile, Jerk, Airhead, Blockhead...

“Such childish bickering...” Sebek comments. “The other students and Azul are all pawns made from darkness, but they're just standing there staring.”

He suggests that you aid Kalim, but Silver stops him.

“Let them get it all out of their systems.” Silver says. “Sometimes a fist fueled by emotion is more effective than any words. ...It definitely was for me.” He gives a small smile.

After some time of fighting, Kalim starts laughing.

“Huh? What could you possibly have to laugh about right now?” Jamil questions.

“Y'know, Jamil... I think this is the first time in our 17 years together that we've ever fought like this!”

“What?! Well, obviously! If I beat you up in reality, it would spell disaster for... Ah?!” The world distorts again. “Gaaah! Augh! It hurts... My head! In reality...? Why did I say that? Rgh, augh...!”

“That's right. This is all just a dream! Please, Jamil, remember! Remember the real you!”

“Right... That day... What I did to you... What I did to... Ah, aaagh...” Jamil remembers what happened on winter break, the dream shatters and he wakes up. “Heh. Haha... Ahahaha... That's right. I failed to oust you that day.”

Kalim celebrates that you all managed to wake up Jamil, but after a little chit-chat the ground starts to shake and fissures began opening all over the place. The dream was starting to break down because Kalim wasn't supposed to exist in it.

Idia warns everyone to get out of the dream as quickly as possible, but then the floor started giving out beneath Kalim. Jamil dove in to save him and the darkness began to dragging him in. Kalim grabbed Jamil to try to get him out of there, but Jamil told him to leave him and punched him when Kalim refused to do so. If you had also tried to help Jamil, he would have just push you too. And Jamil was swallowed by darkness.

When you returned to the dream after the Shroud brothers informed you that it was safe, you landed in Jahar Sahir College. And when you see Jamil he is wearing his Scarabia uniform. Kalim ran to hug him but Jamil dodged successfully.

You and Silver say you're glad he made it back, and Jamil says that he owe all of you a great deal before asking if someone could please fill him in on what was going on.

After the Shrouds show him the explanatory video he says he gets the general gist, and admits that he wasn't entirely sure the rest of you weren't more illusions he subconsciously conjured up, but he never would have thought of the cheat tools idea that Idia came up with. And continued talking about the possibility that it was part of Malleus' spell but it didn't make sense to bring it up to him at all, if that were the case.

“So it's probably safe to accept that all of you aren't illusions created by me or Malleus.” Jamil finally concludes.

“Dude, you were questioning our whole premise...” Idia comments.

“Why wouldn't I, after having my mind, my memories, and my whole world rewritten? But... if you're all real that means...” Jamil looks at you and starts to get worried. “W-when exactly did you get here?”

“Some time before you appeared riding an elephant at the start of the parade.” Ortho answers.

“Yes, we were even part of it!” Kalim adds smilingly. “It was super fun!”

“S-s-so... those people at the parade...” Jamil stutters as the panic grows. “T-the person w-who was with m-me on top of the elephant...”

“Aaaall that until we lost you to that black goop after our fight.” Kalim adds, oblivious to the main point.

“So... that means... that (Y/N)... that whole time...”

“Jamil Viper, please breathe.” Ortho asks him. “I am detecting worrying imbalances in your aetheric structure.”

“Jamil looks like he's going to explode with embarrassment.” Idia says. “I don't even know if that's possible in a dream, but I'd rather not find out.”

You realize the best thing to do is to calm him down, he was unable to say a single word anymore. You take his hands, tell him everything is okay and ask him to breathe.

“I-I-I'm really sorry...!” He says still in panic and almost petrified. “I-I don't know why I did that... I-I didn't want to... I didn't...”

You hug him and feel how tense all the muscles in his body are.

“It's okay. I don't blame you.” You say in a whisper close to his ear. “We don't control our dreams. If you remember what happened, do you remember what I told you?”

“W-what did you tell me?”

You confess that you like him too and that you knew that wasn't the real him. Maybe you even say that you’re willing to forget all that and start over as it should be when you return to the real world.

You then feel Jamil’s muscles begin to slowly relax. Until he reciprocates your hug, is as gentle as it is strong.

“I'm sorry...” He apologizes in a whisper, probably the most sincere you have ever heard or will ever hear from him.

“Aww, GROUP HUG!” Kalim says excitedly.

“NOOO!” Everyone else grabs him and stops him from joining you.

“My goodness, Kalim!” Vil scolds him. “You really need to learn how to interpret social insights.”

When you break the hug, he still tries to look you in the eyes, but can't. You chuckle and cup his face to make him look at you.

“Ironic.” You say with a reassuring smile. “You being the one who doesn't want to look into another person's eyes.”

A small smile begins to form on his lips and he brings a hand to one of the ones you have on his face. He looks at your lips for a second and when he sees you smiling connivingly, he kisses you.

A kiss that lasts until Grim loudly clears his throat. As soon as Jamil breaks the kiss and looks at the others, remembering that they exist, he... isn't embarrassed. He smiles smugly at them, still holding you.

“Hey, last time I checked, it was still my dream.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[bnyf]

baby you're my bunny ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒ bunny boy x female reader

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, slight body horror me thinks? slight horror, perverted yandere, non consensual touching, suggestive, uhhh that's it me thinks :3

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : so sorry if it's badly written also sorry if it ends weird :/

no survival instinct what's-so-ever. like... none.

but he was not complaining! it was just a mere observation. perhaps you were unaware of your allure, maybe you were not exposed to the cruel world yet, didn't know how sick people and creatures can be.

well for one... your little secret admirer was not one of those adorable bunnies you'd fawn over, nothing even close really. and no, he's not some cute boy with a bunny tail and some bunny ears. he's far from cute, a little scary actually.

humanoid? sure! typical bunny boy hybrid, uhhhh not really lol! he's mixed with human genetics but he's not quit. and for a bunny hybrid, he sure had a lot of predator instincts.

to put simply, he was an abnormality of mother nature. his lower half resembled a bunny whilst his torso and up is that of a man. his claws on his feet or paws or whatever are dangerously long, digging into the dirt whenever he walks, leaving behind a "too small to notice unless your looking for it" trail.

a muscular, lean build, biceps so perfect and manly hands to hold you down if you even ever think of escaping, awe how sweet of him <3

completely pale skin with small patches of equally pale fur in various spots, completely crimson, blood shot eyes and a pair of floppy bunny ears where any normal human's ears would be.

how did he even came to be? you may ask. well he was a normal boy, once upon a time. but one day, he'd gotten into a serious accident, a near death life experience. that day he could've hear the bells of heaven ringing in his ears but he wasn't ready to die, not like this... in his head he begged for more time, asking whatever god above to answer his prayers.

and yeah! his prayers where answered but, as they say, be careful what you wish for...

the moon goddess answered his prayers, but she also cursed him for it is the price he must pay to live longer.

"i grant you more time, as much time as you may need, but for as long as you roam his earth, your soul belongs to me and your purpose, is to server me," her voice rang in his ears like a bittersweet melody before he'd lose consciousness.

when he awake, he found himself in the mountains, he was a monstrosity of a man and dared not step a foot into society. he's to bare this curse and blessing till death.

he became easily bored and clueless as to what to do next, his every day life felt null and everything felt too much to bare. his eternity just began yet he dreads his mistake with every passing day.

"maybe, i should of just accepted my faith and die that day..."

with nothing and no one, he was left to wonder the mountain and serve the goddess by praying to her and tending to her shrine everyday, he's trapped to keep her energy going so she won't become a forgotten god.

(guys i made the lore up on a whim so bare with me even i'm confused right now :0)

anyways! everything drastically changed for our boy here when you and your family decided to move to the village nearby in the rural area, and live a peaceful life and just run a nice little farm hooray! hopefully, you don't get stalked and preyed on by a lonely scarily tall bunny male hybrid who looks like a utterly angelic, celestial eldritch horror, right?

all he could think about was a pretty girl had moved in next door and he just had to watch her from afar. most the villagers were very welcoming of you and your family, it was big talk because such a pretty girl had just moved in the small village and all the villagers wanted their sons or grandsons to get married.

it doesn't have much young people, mostly elders and young children and even less marriageable women. which is why you easily became popular, with everyone always gifting you things, begging you to marry into their family. they even had a town welcome celebration for you and your family!

he watched everything from afar. feeling a slight sting in his chest. jealous? already? of course he is, he wanted you all for himself. for countless nights, he just couldn't sleep at all.

he spent all his time admiring you from afar. the way he'd blush, his heart beat fastening, the gears in his head would just slow down a bit. gosh, he actually felt his heart warm so much it'd burn in his chest.

he wanted you badly.

you were his new source of entertainment, motivation and inspiration all in one and his mind was melting with how needy he started becoming.

"what the f- she's so kind and pretty..."

"i wanna hug her, wanna kiss her, feel her skin on mine, love her, fuck her."

"she can be my little bunny princess~"

"wonder what our babies would look like? i'm getting heated just thinking about it"

it didn't help much when he found out you adored bunnies and would play with them near the spring. fawning over the little fluffy creatures, hugging them and petting them. and when you held them in your arms and give smooches while rubbing your face on their fluffy fur?!?!?

that's where his obsession becomes almost to much to bare, his entire chest area felt so warm watching you treat those bunnies with so much love.

"everything about her is so perfect, i'm starting to crave her like crazy right now."

"wanna whisk her away, take her, lock her up and keep her all to myself."

his mind starts getting clouding with so many dark thoughts of you.

and so, he start pushing boundaries and going outside his comfort zone to appease his little appetite that consist of you. at night, he sneaks in to steal a closer glance at you and probably a few things so he can remember your scent properly.

the whole house was dark, the whole village asleep by the time it was midnight hour. he'd manage to get in somehow somewhere but when he did, he immediately went to your room.

finally. he could smell and touch you as much as he wanted, his mind was actually in ecstasy when he entered your room, your scent gracing his nostrils as soon as he did, and the poor touch starved male couldn't hold back on touching you various parts of your skin.

"how delightful, her skin is so smooth and her hair feels so good, she smells like flowers all over gosh so fucking perfect, i wanna devour her, drink her up, chew her, spit her out and do it all over again" with every slight movement you make and whimper scaping your soft lips, he can't help but hold back his own voice, he wanted to moan just by being around you, it felt so good.

after so long, why wouldn't it feel great?

to be around around someone for once, to feel the heat of another person's body, the sweet scent of someone else other than himself. he'd lay in bed with you, his larger self cuddling your smaller form as smells your hair, trailing his hands all over you.

he was getting ahead of himself.

it takes everything within him to not proceed and do something to you while in your sleep. his morals along with his sanity were drifting away more and more.

time flies by when you're enjoying yourself, before he knew it he had to leave before the sun raises. forcing himself he does but he also takes like 5 things from you.

"promise i'll return your belongings my love, i just need a little souvenir to help myself with."

the poor thing gets sent into an early heat after that little interaction. he's embarrassed a little but he really needs you, like he really does. and he thinks of ways of introducing himself but... he's a monster, you would run from him and be scared. and when that thought comes to mind it makes him... sad.

"if i'd die that day, i'd never meet her, never be able to see her, but now that i'm alive with the help of the moon goddess, i can't even act normal about her. it's like i'm truly doomed."

this realization was tough. it made him sick to think about. and for a while, he was just okay with sneaking in to see you, and holding your unconscious body but he wanted a lot more, and he wanted your acceptance and love. he wanted you to want him the way he wants you.

it hurt even more when he mistakenly glanced in the mirror only to see a 6 feet tall, half human half hybrid bunny with a deadly eerie looking bloody stare, stare right back at him.

the pale moonlight leaking on him, hitting his skin almost making it look silver.

"she'd surely fear me, she'd run."

he's such a beautiful tragedy. would you be able to appreciate that?

[justwinginglife]

Imperfect Perfection

Synopsis: You'd love to be the emperor's wife. Everyone would. But you've got a secret that makes you very unqualified to be his wife, so you do what anyone with a secret does- you hide and try to keep to yourself. But Jinshi's not used to women keeping to themselves around him. Just how are you going to keep this secret when he starts poking around? Approximate Word Count: 3600 Tags: Angst with a happy ending?

You hadn’t been trying to catch the emperor’s attention. But you were the only one who wasn’t, and that’s what caught his attention.

As the daughter of a high ranking official, you were invited (and then forced by your parents) to attend a garden party at the palace, where the newly crowned emperor would then choose his empress and concubines from among the party guests. 

Now, it wasn’t that you didn’t want his attention. In fact, he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen, and you were sure that everyone else was thinking the same thing. But you had certain physical limitations that made you an ill-advised choice for either his wife or his concubine so you figured there was no point in getting attached to someone you had no chance with. 

With that in mind, you banished yourself to the farthest corner of the garden, with only the bees and the flowers to keep you company. When a server brought you a tray of carefully arranged delicacies, you graciously accepted, popping one into your mouth before beaming bright and stealing another. With a satisfied sigh, you turned to speak to the waiter.

“I’m sorry, I know this is rather imprudent of me, but could I perchance meet your chef? I’d like to thank them for the delicious treats.” 

He blinked at you curiously.

“Oh, I apologize. You have permission to speak.” 

He gave you a small smile. “Thank you, my lady. As flattering as your request is, it is generally frowned upon for the lower and higher classes to interact. Especially at such a…” He gave a wary glance at all the nobility socializing around you, “Public event.” 

“Ah, I see. You’re right, forgive me, we are in a rather public space. I’ll accompany you to the kitchen then.”

His eyes widened. “The k-kitchen?”

You nodded as though it were the only acceptable conclusion. 

“You mustn’t! It’s rather…chaotic at this hour, with so many guests to serve. I’m sure your ladyship won’t find the kitchen interesting in the slightest. I will convey your thanks to the chef myself, if it is of such great importance to you.”

“It’s no trouble for me. I’d really like to properly express my gratitude. And I must admit to having an ulterior motive, as I’d also like for your chef to teach my kitchen staff their recipes, so you see, we have much to discuss.” You explained.

The waiter gave another cautious glance around the garden, before finally sighing and nodding. “Alright, as you wish, my lady. I shall take you to him.”

And with that, you quietly slipped off to the kitchen with him. Though it can’t have been as quiet as you would’ve liked, because the moment the emperor laid eyes on you sneaking through the maze with a servant boy, he was instantly intrigued. Did someone dare to have an affair with his own staff right under his nose, at his own engagement party? What kind of woman were you exactly? Excusing himself, he followed carefully behind.

When you arrived at the kitchen and the emperor realized you’d snuck out of his lavish party just to convey your thanks to his chef, he was touched. And he couldn’t help but be drawn to the ways your eyes lit up when you discussed potential new recipes for the chef to try, or the way your brows furrowed as you wondered aloud if certain ingredients would mix together well or not, or the way you emphatically pleaded with the chef to impart his knowledge to your own kitchen staff like you’d melt and die if he didn’t. 

He stifled a laugh and then, realizing his own actions, wondered what on earth he was hiding his presence for. This was his palace, after all. He stepped out of the shadows, clearing his throat. “You know, the royal palace doesn’t hire just anybody. Of course my staff is well accomplished.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks when you heard his voice behind you and you turned to him, burying your chin deep into your chest as you bowed lower than you’d ever bowed in your entire life. “Your highness! I apologize; I didn’t see you there. Forgive me.” 

The kitchen staff followed, bowing low and humbly. 

He gestured for them to rise up. “There’s no need for that. I thank you for taking such great care of my party guest.”

They nodded and made their quick departure, leaving just you and the emperor all alone. Great.

“Well…I suppose I’ll be on my way as well. I’m sure you have more important people to see. Good day, your highness.” You gave him another respectful bow before turning away.

“Not so fast.”

You froze, nerves trembling within your veins. “Y-yes, your h-highness?”

Now he had to laugh aloud. “You speak so comfortably with mere kitchen staff and yet you find it difficult to speak to me?”

“With all due respect, your majesty, it is more difficult to speak to you. You require more care when speaking.” You admitted, though unsure why.

“Why? I’m just another man, same as them.”

You raised a brow at that. Man or not, emperor or not, he was being rather dense. “You are not ‘just a man’. You are this kingdom’s ruler. One does not speak to the emperor the way they would a friend.”

“So I’m not the emperor then. Not today. Today, I’m just a friend. So talk to me.”

This guy was going to give you a heart attack for real. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was baiting you into being improper only to reprimand you, or if he genuinely wanted something as simple as true conversation. But, as you gazed into his eyes, you thought you glimpsed a hint of loneliness behind them. Like maybe he never asked to be emperor. Like maybe he never asked to be so far above his peers that no one dared to hold a conversation with him. 

So, completely forgetting your original intention of avoiding him, you decided to humor him. You talked with him. The two of you wandered the palace grounds, talking about anything and everything under the sun. And you talked for so long that they sent out a search party for him.

You stifled a laugh as he pulled you deeper into the maze. “Are we supposed to be hiding from your guards? And at your own party?” You whispered. 

He grinned. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. Shh, they’re coming this way.” He slipped his hand over your mouth before yanking you behind a hedge. 

Once the guards had passed by, he removed his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No, I don’t want this to end.”

You laughed. “Well, we do have to go back eventually. Or they’ll think I kidnapped you.”

“That’s a great idea; you should kidnap me.” He teased, nudging you with his arm.

You snorted. “And be beheaded? No, thank you.” 

“Who’s going to behead you? I’m the emperor, after all; what I say goes and under no circumstances is any harm to befall you.” His eyes gleamed, true and sincere. 

You smiled at him. You couldn’t help it. Somehow, in the span of a few hours, you’d become dear to him. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, the way he walked with you, the way he talked with you, the way he didn’t want to stop talking to you. You didn’t want to admit that he’d also become dear to you, so you opted instead for a witty rebuttal. 

“Oh, is that right? You weren’t saying that when you were convincing me to climb a palace wall with you ‘for the view’ and I almost fell off of said wall. Which made the view less impressive, by the way. It’s hard to get a good look when you’re falling through the air.” 

He laughed lightheartedly. “But did you fall? No, because I caught you. So, as I said, I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”

“Oh, my hero.” You pressed your hands to your chest dramatically, to which he gave an exaggerated (yet entertained) scoff. You wanted to laugh at his theatrics as you were sure he wanted to laugh at yours. But you knew it was getting time for the fun to reach its end. “We should really get back. They’ll become suspicious that we’ve disappeared together.” 

“And what suspicions could they surmise from our time together?” His voice was light and amused- clear evidence that he was still in the mood for games. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that you’ve chosen to make me your empress or something.”

“And what if I have?” His teasing tone vanished in an instant. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “Don’t jest- I’d be a ridiculous choice. Besides, it’s rude to neglect your other party guests and then refuse to even consider them for the position. We can’t have the emperor scorning all of his high ranking guests; it would be chaos at best.”

“So I’ll make an appearance. Apologize for my behavior. Flash a smile here, a wink there. All will be well.” 

You rolled your eyes, amusement dancing on your curved lips. “And, once again, you’re beloved by everyone. The end.”

“Beloved by everyone except one.”

“One? Who would dare?” You teased.

“You.”

You almost coughed up your heart, but you refused to let your emotions guide your reaction. “That’s untrue. I’m quite fond of you. Kind of like a pet.” You opted instead for humor, once again, your default armor of choice.

His eyes narrowed. “A…pet? Would a…’pet’ do this?” In an instant, he had you pinned up against the column of the gazebo, lips meeting yours in a sudden burst of heat. 

You wanted to drown in his kiss. You’d spent so long resisting his dazzling eyes and his charming smile, but when it came to his intoxicating lips? You didn’t stand a chance. You kissed him back, against your better judgement, and when he felt you give in to him, his smirk curled against your lips. 

“So, I’ll see you tonight then? After I’m done playing the role of the responsible king?” He grinned unabashedly and it nearly made your chest cave in.

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” You murmured breathlessly, still drunk on the taste of him.

“Tonight, it’s just us. No bothersome party guests within sight. I’ll come to your room.”

You wanted to tell him no. To tell him that this was all moving too quickly. To tell him that he was wasting his energy on you. To tell him that you couldn’t be his. But all you could stutter out was, “T-tonight…” and he took it as your agreement. He kissed you once more and then disappeared into the maze, returning to his party shortly after.

Upon your delayed return to the party -having waited a few minutes after he had left so as not to arouse suspicion anymore than you already had- you feigned ill and retired to your chambers. You wanted to leave. To go for a walk, far, far away, and have that walk cure you of these unnecessary and unwanted feelings. You wanted to be anywhere but here, where he said he’d meet you. But your traitorous feet only allowed you enough energy to pace your room before finally giving up and collapsing on the bed, waiting for his return, longing for his return. 

You stared at the ceiling as you waited.

He couldn’t possibly pick you to be his empress, could he? He must have been joking, right? How were you going to tell him the real reason why you couldn’t be his wife? Why you shouldn’t be his wife. How were you going to let him down easy?

You bit down on your lip until it hurt. But…then again, would it really be so bad to be his concubine? To let him coax you into bed? To pretend you could be something to him every time he held you, to ignore the way you felt when he’d leave in the morning, attend to another concubine’s needs? You shook your head, discouraging the idea and jolting you back to reality.

He would come tonight, looking for your love, and you’d simply say you had none to give him. You’d deny the thundering in your heart and you’d tell him why it could never work between the two of you and then he’d be disappointed but ultimately he’d understand that you were a poor choice to begin with and then you’d return to your home town and act as if you never had such pounding in your chest to begin with. You’d forget him and he’d forget you. Or, more likely, he’d forget you, and you’d spend the rest of your life trying to explain away the aching in every fiber of your being. But that was how it should be. You thought you had already made peace with the fact that you’d never be anyone’s wife; it shouldn’t have pained you so much not to be his in particular. You were getting greedy, getting selfish. You wouldn’t wish your companionship on any man desiring a family, not now that you knew what you knew about yourself. And you certainly wouldn’t wish it on him, someone you’d genuinely begun to care about (and someone you would have to train yourself to forget you ever cared about). 

So before he even knocked on the door, having heard his footsteps in the hall (and having been embarrassed that you’d already memorized the sound), you ushered him inside your room, and closed the door before anyone could spot the two of you together. And before his excitement at your supposed eagerness could take hold of him, you made sure to express your denial of his advances as plainly as you could. 

“I don’t understand. So you…agreed to let me come to your room, you yank me into your room once I arrive, and now you say you don’t want me?” His brows furrowed, hurt and confusion clear as day across his face. 

“I didn’t say I don’t want you. I said we can’t be together.” You attempted to soften the blow but it pained you to even say the words.

Surprisingly, your response worked wonders on him. His tension eased immediately upon hearing your words. “So you do want me.”

Your eyes widened, panic shooting through your veins. “That’s not what I-”

“I know. But it’s what you feel, right? So whatever is making you think we can’t be together, I’ll figure it out.” His voice was confident, reassured. There was no hint of arrogance or exaggeration in sight. He was simply speaking the truth; he would clear a path for you to be by his side, no matter what it took. And that only made you want to be by his side more. 

But you couldn’t.

“Jinshi, you don’t underst-”

“Zuigetsu. You can call me by my real name.”

Your words froze in your throat. No one called the emperor by his real name. No one would dare. You half expected your head to be sent flying just at the thought of calling him by his real name. 

“There’s no way that I-”

“Please. I’ve never heard anyone say my name.”

Well, crap. You couldn’t deny him when he pleaded. You almost couldn’t deny him anything. And you didn’t want to. You wanted to be the woman he swept off her feet. You wanted to be the woman by his side. “Zui….Zuigetsu.” You murmured weakly.

His complexion brightened immediately, eyes brimming with joy. “It sounds so much more perfect than I thought it would.” His thumb ran across your lips, eliciting a shiver from you. There was no lust in his actions, only pure, unadulterated happiness, and it was the kind of happiness you could get lost in.

So, throwing your better judgement out the window once again, you indulged him. You lost yourself in him, lost hours to his welcome company.

You’d assumed he’d wanted to enter your bedchambers for superficial purposes, for more primal purposes, and you probably would’ve entertained his fantasies until reality took hold of you again. But he simply wanted a more private environment to continue his earlier conversation with you, asking more of your likes and dislikes, begging you to repeat an earlier story he’d found entertaining, telling you stories of his own, until you were laughing so hard he had to slip a hand over your mouth to avoid drawing unwelcome attention, grinning as he did so. 

So the night came and went, and you played pretend to your heart’s satisfaction. And then the morning came and you regretted your actions once more.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to him. Not to yourself. It would only make leaving even harder. No, today would be the day when you’d tell him the truth. The dreaded truth. The devastating truth.

So you sent a messenger to his room with gifts you’d brought from your hometown and you invited him to join you for conversation, one last time. 

“Spoiling me already?” He plopped down beside you, all giddy and glowing.

“I thought you might like the treats. Since you were telling me you’d never tried them before.” What were you doing? You were supposed to just spit out the truth and here you were, small talking him.

“I very much enjoyed them, but I think I’d enjoy them more with you, so I saved some to have with our tea.” He smiled, sincerity practically dripping from his lips, as he offered you the tray you’d previously sent to his room. 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay for tea.”

“Oh, I see. You’re doing the thing where you push me away again, claiming that we’re not meant to be. I told you; I’ll take care of everything. Do you not trust me?” For such a serious conversation, his tone was relaxed, like he was already assured of your feelings. You cursed your own carelessness for allowing your feelings to surface so plain for him to see. 

“It’s not that-”

“Then what is it?”

He was going to be the death of you. But you may as well dig the grave yourself, if your relationship was already within the Grim Reaper’s grasp. “I can’t have children.” There. You’d said it. Your awful secret had finally come to light.

You could tell he was not expecting that, because his features had frozen in place, his breath trapped within his lungs. Maybe he was expecting you to have a scorned past lover, maybe he was expecting you to merely be insecure about inheriting the title of empress. Whatever he’d been expecting, it can’t have been nearly as bad as the dreadful truth.

The truth that you yourself had not yet made peace with. You’d cried yourself to sleep the day the doctor told you and you cried almost every night since then. You’d always dreamed of marrying for love (as rare as it was during these times) and starting a family with your loved one. And now those dreams were nothing more than a relic of the past. The past belonging to a happier you. To a healthier you. To the ideal version of yourself. To the version of yourself you wish you could present to him right now. But you couldn’t change your reality, much like you couldn’t change your DNA. Your fate had already been signed, sealed, and delivered to you, and all that was left was to accept it.

“Okay.”

Time stuttered to a stop. “W-what did you say?”

“I said, okay. I told you, no matter what it is, I’ll figure it out.”

You sighed, exasperation seeping into your voice, “This isn’t something you can just figure out. I physically cannot have children. Do you understand what that means? It means you won’t be able to carry on the royal line with me. It means you’re better off with someone else.”

“I didn’t say I’d fix it. I said I’d figure it out. And I’ve already figured out that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, who cares if we can’t have kids? Marry me.”

Your stomach tangled in a knot. “I can’t marry you. I’m not right for you. Besides being physically limited, I’m also extremely selfish. I won’t want to share you with another concubine.”

“So don’t share then. Marry me.”

“You don’t understand. You would be giving up the idea of children altogether. That’s a difficult decision to make; I wouldn’t make it so lightly.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand. I don’t make this decision lightly; I make it with all the love I have in my heart because I love and want you, and only you. So marry me.”

In that moment, you burst into tears. You knew you shouldn’t be bawling like this in front of the emperor; your parents would’ve been ashamed. But you couldn’t help yourself any longer. All those nights, attempting to comfort yourself when no one else could. All those days, wishing for your imperfections to simply disappear. And here he was, offering to love you through it all. He didn’t see someone in need of fixing, he simply saw you and wanted you. And he didn't see you as an imperfection, he saw you as perfect for him.

And if you couldn’t give him children, you made up your mind that you’d damn well give him every ounce of love that you had to give, and every day of the rest of your life.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @h3art-love @ouiouimochi @minasfwoopyponytail

[bunny-jpeg]

how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!

the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)

i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!

all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunny-jpeg and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !

mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”

zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"

carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."

pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."

oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."

persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."

mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."

swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."

sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."

pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."

tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”

sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"

pull-apart bread: "i love you"

powered sugar donuts: "marry me."

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”

pudding chomeur: "i don't share."

ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."

chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

soufflé: "i'll be gentle."

fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."

apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."

vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"

berry trifle: "wrong. try again."

maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."

s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."

pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."

loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."

jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"

maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."

snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."

shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"

flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."

peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."

red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."

mince pie: "i'm not jealous."

banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."

crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."

chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"

nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

coffee cake: "knees. now."

sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."

blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."

pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

crepe: "pretty girl."

french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"

churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

savory pastry: "let your brother find out."

sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."

eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."

boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."

bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”

crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”

tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."

peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”

eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."

scones: "but what if they see us!"

english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"

honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."

banana split: "don't look at me like that."

beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."

fudge: "your father is pissing me off."

sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."

brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"

tim bits: "stupid little thing."

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."

cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."

devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."

crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."

custard tart: "i've never done this before."

cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."

mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"

date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."

figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"

spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."

cream puffs: "let me finish inside."

profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

with a side of:

coffee: rivals

tea: semi-public/public sex

juice: cockwarming

mocha coffee: breeding kink

bubble tea: daddy kink

a vodka shot: rough sex

sparkling water: gentle sex

coconut water: alternate universe

energy drink: doggy style

champagne: sugar daddy situation

hard lemonade: possessive behaviour

espresso shot: dirty talking

a glass of wine: cowgirl position

ice capp coffee: werewolf au

bloody mary: vampire au

martini: mafia au

frozen latte: dumbification

frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent

cranberry juice: mean!character

glass of water: aftercare

chocolate milk: tenderness

milkshake: size kink

pina colada: pregnancy

cider: body worship

mai tai: loss of virginity

margarita: unprotected sex

mint julep: punishments

chai: biting/hickies

earl grey: big cock

fishbowl cocktail: protected sex

tonic water: age gap

matcha latte: collars/bondage

root beer: filming/recording

soda: jealousy

americano: oral sex

whisky: degrading language

vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic

irish coffee: high sex

sangria: drunk sex

dark roast coffee: sub!character

dark hot chocolate: sub!reader

iced tea: accidentally launching relationship

lemon water: university/college au

naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader

on the house: author's choice!

ORDER UP!

[hiiragi7]

The plural community has a major problem with how it treats final fusion and systems who are fully fused.

If you ever wonder why you don't meet many fully fused systems in the community, part of it is because we are actively pushed out of the community.

People have been really shitty towards me ever since I hit final fusion in January. My friends who are fully fused have also experienced similar.

I feel like I can't talk about my experiences at all in a lot of spaces. When I do, I feel like I have to put in extra effort to word myself carefully, and even then it doesn't really help. It doesn't matter how much I say "everyone's experiences are different" or "this is how it is for me personally", people act weird towards me just because I am fully fused. I can't just talk about my experiences with my system like everyone else and it's really draining and frustrating.

People assume that because I am fully fused I will be pushy about fusion or even force fusion onto other systems. People say they are intimidated by me and don't want to talk to me because I am fully fused. People tell me about how horrible they think fusion is and how it's murder. People say they feel bad for fused systems because they think all fused systems are tricked into fusion and about how parts language is dehumanizing and abuse. People say I must hate myself or hate being a system because I chose final fusion. People say they don't believe in final fusion existing at all and that it's unhealthy to believe in it, that fused systems are just systems pretending to be singlets, and that we just need to deal with our internalized ableism and accept we're plural.

People even assume I'm "sysmed" because I am fully fused and use parts language. I have been vocally pro-endo the entire time I've been in system spaces. Hell, I myself am endogenic.

My very belonging in the plural community is constantly in question. I have witnessed numerous debates over the years about whether fully fused systems should be allowed in the community at all, or be allowed to talk about system experiences... because we "chose to be singlets". I've even seen people suggest that we are "appropriating" systemhood by talking about it because we are "no longer systems and have no right to talk about what being a system is like".

"No singlets should be allowed to talk about system experiences or be allowed in system communities, and that includes fully fused individuals" was and still is a major stance here on tumblr, as well as several discord servers I've been in.

I'm constantly expected to censor or completely not talk about my experiences at all because I am fully fused. Final fusion is on the blacklist for a lot of plural servers, and on tumblr a lot of folks get asked to trigger warn anything mentioning final fusion. This isn't something that really happens for any other form of DID recovery. This is specifically targeted at final fusion.

Yes, I understand that there are systems who are pressured to fuse and that it may be a triggering topic for these systems; at the same time, the plural community fosters a lot of fear and shame around final fusion by barring any talk of it and framing it as a negative thing, and it is rarely taken into consideration how triggering it is for many fully fused systems like myself to not be allowed to speak about our experiences and be treated like our existence needs to be hidden and censored, especially when we constantly see others talking very poorly of us and our experiences on top of that.

I get told I'm wrong about my own experiences as a fully fused system or about my thoughts on functional multiplicity and final fusion by systems who are neither fully fused nor functionally multiple, many of whom have never even spoken to a system who is or read about our experiences at all. People in the community are extremely black-and-white about it, and when I talk about how from my experience functional multiplicity and final fusion aren't actually a strict binary, people are very quick to tell me about how they're completely different experiences when they haven't even experienced it or even really know anything about it.

There's so much misinformation in the community about final fusion and it really fucking sucks.

It's so painful hearing my fully fused friends talk about how many of them have been chased out of the community or know folks who have been.

Plural community, be better for fused systems.

[angeliteeyes]

Shenhe x Reader

About her overprotective tendencies...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Shenhe struggled with her emotions and behaviors more than she'd like to admit, especially her aggressive tendencies. Given her difficulty with social interactions and her full figure, going out to Liyue Harbor almost always brought trouble. One visit it would be a pushy salesman, the next she would run into a catcaller, and so on. Some people with calmer souls may be able to simply walk away from such individuals, and to her credit, she does try to act like that. But sometimes, they push too hard. Sometimes, they physically block her off. Really, it's their fault that they ended up face-first on the floor half-conscious at that point.

Still, the consistency of her social clashes has formed an innate instinct to act defensive when wandering around in public, always keeping an eye open for occurrences such as uncomfortable faces at shop booths or groups of rowdy drunks. It's kept her safe in many instances.

It's no wonder she acts like that for your sake too.

Going out with Shenhe, whether it's for a date or a simple grocery run, is like walking with a bulldog. The only difference is how they warn others to stay away from their human—dogs typically growl and bare their teeth, while Shenhe uses her menacing glare and icy frown. You may not even suspect it's happening at first, with how soft she gets the moment your attention's on her.

You did notice her habit of hovering behind you, but naively, you assumed it was nothing more than just that: a habit. In reality, it's another manifestation of her protectiveness towards you. Being a skilled fighter, she's hyperaware of how vulnerable your backside is to attacks, and subconsciously slots her body between you and any potential danger. The body heat's an added bonus. And her ability to cling to your sides whenever a stranger's been staring at you for too long.

Due to her scare tactics, you rarely have to deal with any trouble from others. If anything, many of their demeanors have become friendlier. As soon as you stroll over to the bakery, for example, they always seem to frantically offer you free samples...? The first time, you tried to reject the offer politely, but Shenhe encouraged you to accept them.

One day, someone got a little too close.

Your date was going rather smoothly prior, actually. Both of your meals came out on time and the seasonings were perfectly balanced. The only issue was your server, who had a strange demeanor towards you. When they brought out Shenhe's meal nothing was amiss, but when it was your turn, she had to watch as their fingers conveniently bumped into yours. She grit her teeth. Maybe it was just a coincidence. You did tell her before to stop worrying about little interactions like this.

But then it kept happening. By the end of the night, the server wouldn't even face Shenhe since their body was turned so drastically to your seat. The "accidental" hand bumps got bolder each time, and worst of all—you were uncomfortable. Unforgivable. Still, she understood why you were hesitant to express your emotions. The date was nearly over, and she assumed you'd rather wait it out to get the check than make a scene.

So she took matters into her own hands. Not when you were there, of course. Shenhe waited until the meal was already paid and you were positioned comfortably in a spot where she could see you, but not the other way around. After walking around the backside of the vicinity, she quickly ran into the worker from before, hunched over and slacking off. They didn't even notice her at first, too focused on whatever was in their hands. An easy target.

*

After nearly dozing off, you heard familiar footsteps behind you. Your eyes widened as you turned around to spot Shenhe, barely containing your joy. Still, you weren't exactly sure why she made you wait in the first place. You cleared your throat.

"There you are. I'm falling asleep over here. What were you doing anyway?"

She snaked her hands onto your shoulders, beginning to massage them the way you liked.

"Just an issue with the bill. Don't worry about it."

[goose-duck]

Maybe Ronin with a reader who is dealing with their ex who is trying to get back together with them and won’t take no for an answer? Reader doesn’t tell Ronin at first but eventually he finds out anyways? Just a random idea I came up with, no worries if it’s not up your alley!

Exes & Orchids

Ronin Beaufort x Reader

2.6k words

You and your ex broke up a few months ago, just before you met Ronin if you had to estimate. The break up was bad; you left them due to their rather violent behaviour towards you and even your cat. They argued with you and would scream and hit you. Hell, on your way out, they even slapped you and scolded you for “daring to leave the only person who will ever love you”. They were a real twat and you were relieved to finally be rid of them.

More recently, however, you've found solace and love in a new place. You've found it with Ronin. The weird serial killer who likes to fuck with you on a server full of killers. The man who sought you out for his own entertainment. He's now also become your entertainment and the object of your affections. It seems he's found the same in you.

The two of you had semi-recently gotten together, having met in purgatory and not separated since. It'd been about a month since then, yet somehow the man had convinced you to live with him only a week after finally meeting in person. How funny is that? It's a wonder no one's killed you prior, I mean, moving in with a known killer a week after debating killing him? You're crazy. You're his crazy.

At the moment you're at home by yourself. Ronin had left a few hours ago; on a mission to get groceries, but likely distracted with something of less importance. You've gotten used to it by now. It's cute how he notices everything and just has to find out more. It's kind of annoying too.

Ronin had noticed your recent change in behaviour. How you've been on edge, kinda prickly about everything. Every time there's a knock at the door he notices your slight flinch, how you glare at the door as if it were going to eat you alive. He noticed your abrasive behaviour in regards to his affection, often pushing him away rather than accepting his love.

When he questioned you on this, you assured him it's not his fault. It was clear he didn't believe you; however he knew he couldn't pry the truth from your lips, so he dropped it. He left in a huff after that, insisting he just wanted to shower. You've grown to understand by that he means he wants to be alone to think, so you left him to it.

Maybe you should tell him about your ex? Not that he doesn't know about the low quality relationship you'd been in prior to having met him, but he doesn't know that your ex has been practically stalking you as of late. Ever since you made a post about being with Ronin, just a simple little post, a picture of you kissing his cheek; ever since then your ex has been very interested in your doings.

They've liked all your posts and been spamming you with texts about wanting to apologize and try to be friends. You know them well enough to know it's all bullshit. They're just upset you've moved on. They tried desperately to leave a cut so deep it could never scar; yet their efforts proved futile. Once you'd met Ronin it was like finally going to the hospital and getting the wound cauterized. The damage is still there, it's still a scar, one not easy to ignore, but it's healed and healthy. You have Ronin to thank for that.

You suddenly hear a knock at the front door. Yet another thing your ex had been doing recently, leaving gifts for you. They must run up, knock, then hide, because you never seem to catch them in the act. You don't know how they managed to find Ronin’s house, but it isn't as if they hadn't done this to you while you were together.

They've always been a stalker. A total creep. You were into it when you'd first met them. Someone totally obsessed? They'll never leave me? Sign me up. Alas, it's not like what the stories tell. It's not romantic at all. It's disturbing, traumatic and downright gross at times.

You'd found them in your house, uninvited, many times. Seen them going through your cupboards, sock door, and even using your shower. One time, when at their house, you'd found pictures of yourself sleeping pinned to their wall. It was horrific the things you'd seen them do. Obsession isn't nearly as attractive as you once thought it was.

Love however? That will always have your heart. When you first met Ronin on the server; he was annoying, seemed like just some other creep, especially when he talked of knowing where you live and things of the like. He managed to prove you wrong though. He respected all your boundaries and in the end kept you safe. When you agreed to meet in purgatory, you already knew he was the one.

You hesitantly stand up, making your way cautiously over to the door. Just in case something dangerous is there, you've begun opening the door in a way Ronin has stated is “strange”. You don't think it's too bad, just… careful? No- it's weird, but if he knew what was going on he'd understand. Maybe he'd answer the door for you? Track down you ex and end them? Is that too much- open the door bro-

You stand over to the side of the door, behind the side that would swing in when the door is opened. You gently turn the nob, opening the door slowly. You peek around the side of your wooden shield and search for the new object at your doorstep. It's a bouquet of flowers. White orchids. The exact flower you ex used to keep on their dining room table. Yikes. That's… awesome.

You hesitantly kick the flowers away with your foot, knocking them off the front steps into the dirt. You feel slightly bad, the flowers hadn't done anything to you. Your ex had though, meaning these flowers can't be trusted. You then slam the front door closed and thoroughly check that it's definitely locked before leaving it. You return to your place on the couch and resume your aimless internet scrolling.

~~~~~~

Ronin soon returns with groceries and mail and… a bouquet of white orchids. What is with everyone and white orchids? He sets down the bags of groceries and walks over to you. He leans over the side of the couch, single letter and bouquet in his hands.

“Hey, Darlin’~ what's with the dirt flowers out front?” He holds the orchids up to your face.

You grimace, “Seems to me they aren't out front anymore…”

He hums, “Seems they aren't.” He thinks for a moment, “What's with the flowers, hon?” He speaks a bit more sternly, suspecting there's more to the situation than just random orchids.

You sigh, “Ronin. They're meant to be in the dirt. Leave them there.” You give him the stern demand, not leaving space for refusal.

Ronin nods at this, “Alright, Darlin’, in the dirt they shall go… I do have to ask though, is there a reason you hate white orchids so much?”

You shoot him a sharp glare, “Quit catching onto shit I don't want you catching onto.”

He chuckles softly. “Not happenin’, love. What's going on? You've been acting off for a while, not that we've been together all that long, but, I didn't think you'd be the type to push away my affection. You can tell me if I'm being too much, Darlin’. Don't want things ending when they're just beginning.”

“I… don't wanna talk about it, Ronin.” You dismiss his concerns.

“Y/N. I'm being fuckin’ serious. What's wrong? I can't make things better if you don't tell me what the fuckin’ problem is. I'm worried about you and you're giving me nothing here. Please, just throw me a bone on the problem, or maybe the solution, if you have one.” He desperately begs you, his voice cracking with concern. You see his eyes water slightly. You've really got him stressed out.

He pleads, “At least tell me why you aren't tellin’ me things, Darlin’. Please, at least give me that..?” He's sunken to his knees behind the couch, only his arms and face resting on the back of the couch, just off to the side of you. He looks so worried and upset; like a cat you've stepped on the tail of then yelled at for being under your feet, as if they weren't just trying to show you affection.

You can't take that look on his face any long and concede. “Fine. ‘Guess I can at least give you that much.” You huff out, not making eye contact with him. “I don't wanna tell you… because I wanna believe this is something I can handle on my own. I don't wanna feel weak asking you for help. I know how stupid that is, it's not weak to ask for help… but… I don't know what's wrong with me!” You throw your arms up, annoyed with your own avoidance of asking for assistance when you're in too deep. You know better, yet you aren't being better.

Ronin tosses the Orchids to the floor and leaves the letter resting on the back of the couch. He then stands up and walks around the couch so he's now in front of you. He squats down in front of you, putting himself lower than you in hopes it'll make you feel more comfortable, more in control of whatever is going on. He rests a hand on one of your knees and puts his other hand to your chin; lightly grabbing your attention before pulling it away, only to gently grab one of your hands and squeeze it.

“Darlin’, tell me what's wrong. Even of you don't want me fixin’ it for you, sometimes it can help get your thoughts straight to verbalize them. I'm here. You're safe. You'll always be safe when I'm around. Please talk to me.” He gives her a patient look, worry still evident in his soft eyes.

You squeeze his hand back, finally allowing your eyes to lock with his, “My ex has been bothering me…” You wait a second, anticipating some reaction. All he gives is a soft nod; silently telling you it's okay to continue, he won't speak until you're done. You squeeze his hand again as a thanks.

“They've been stalking me again… maybe it never stopped? I don't know- I don't want to think about that. Anyway, they've been leaving me things… like… white orchids… and stuff… um… yeah. They're making me really uncomfortable and putting me on edge, so, y'know- um. That's all I've got. Eheh…” You nervously spit out what's been going on in short form. His focus is entirely on you. He's hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth.

Once he knows you don't have anything else to say he speaks up, “What do you want to do about it?” It's a simple question, yet you didn't have an answer. They may have harmed you in the past, but you don't enjoy the idea of causing anyone pain. Yet you wish he'd face some consequence for his actions.

“I- I don't know. I don't know, Ronin. I don't.” You meagerly whimper out in response. You receive a soft nod from him before he replies, “Would you like me to handle it for you?” You nod before quickly following up, “But don't kill them, okay? That seems like a bit much.” Ronin gives you a disappointed look, but agrees not to kill them.

Ronin changes his position slightly, moving himself to be placed between your legs. He gently rests his head against one of your thighs, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better right now, Darlin’?” He softly questions, pressing light kisses to the tight his head is resting on.

You giggling lightly and run your fingers through his messy hair, “This is more than enough, Ronin.”

He leans into your touch slightly, “Nothing is enough for you. I can always give you more.” He gently moves your hand from his head, bringing it to his lips and pressing a few soft kisses to it. You blush, but don't make any sign for him to stop.

~~~~~~

Later while you're asleep in bed, Ronin is hard at work trying to figure out what to do about your shifty ex.

First, he starts with the basics, those flowers they left. He burns them. He doesn't even think twice before those white orchids go up in flames.

Next, the letter. After hearing what had been going on he decided to read the letter himself before giving it to you. It was a love letter from your ex. He decided against reminding you of its existence. This also went into the fire.

Lastly, the root of the problem, your ex.

He knows you told him not to kill them, but it just seems like such an easy solution to the problem. How could he not? He could just not tell you he killed them. You don't have to know. It's totally fine.

Before burning the litter he had checked where it was sent from. He then followed the address to your ex’s place of residence.

When he arrives he bangs on the door. Three hard bangs.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Exactly like what he's going to do to their head. He's gonna bash it in. That should stop them from ever bothering you again.

Soon your ex answers the door; still in their pajamas, likely due to the late hour. They look confused as to why Ronin is there. They know who he is, they've stalked your posts enough to know he's your boyfriend. The question still lingers though, why is he at their home.

They soon find out when Ronin pushes them back in through their door and swiftly slams it shit behind him, not even giving them the chance to question him. They rush to find a weapon or maybe their phone, Ronin didn't care. All he cared about was ending them.

He quickly grabs them, pushing them to the floor. “I'll make sure you never bother my Darlin’ again.”

Bang.

“This wouldn't be happening if you'd just left them alone.”

Bang.

“It's all your fault.”

Bang.

“I hope hell isn't kind to you.”

Seeing that they're definitely dead; their head bashed in, blood covering most surrounding objects, he makes his leave.

He rushes back home to you… and to the fire he needs to put out. Hoping all is well and you're still asleep.

When he returns to the house he sees his fire is still going. He gets a bucket of water and quickly doused the fire, putting it out with ease. He then returns inside the house, quietly grabbing some clean pajamas and sneaking into the washroom to clean up.

~~~~~~

Once out of the shower he dries himself and puts on his pajamas. They're the matching ones he'd bought with you. Pink and fluffy with rainbows on them. How silly. How cute.

He silently walks into your shared bedroom, laying down on the bed beside you. He turns to look at your sleeping form, drooling slightly in a deep slumber. He smiles softly at you, brushing some hair out of your face. He holds your face gently in one hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. He then quickly runs his fingers through your hair before pulling you close.

Your face is now pressed against his chest, your face a little squished and oh so adorable to him. He plays with your hair a little more before drawing small patterns on your back and arms. He lovingly kisses your forehead.

“‘Night, Darlin’. You're safe now, right here, in my arms.” He whispers softly against your forehead, finally closing his eyes and joining you in your peaceful sleep.

[mrs-delaney]

Heather

request: a Joe Burrow request based on the song heather by conan gray! but happy ending as usual yk

something sweet for the weekend, babes ✨ took lots of creative liberties with this one—hope you love it! thank you to whoever sent in the request 💌

Joe Burrow x Reader 4.4k Words

masterlist: click here for all my stuff!

tag list: sign up here to get tagged in new stuff! 🌟

December 3rd, 2018

You were walking back from the bar with Joe, the December air just cold enough to make you shiver. Your friend group had just finished celebrating his birthday early—December 10th always fell during finals, so you'd made December 3rd your traditional date for Joe's birthday celebration.

"You're shivering," Joe observed, that quiet way he noticed everything about the people he cared about.

"I'm fine," you lied, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walked across campus. It was mostly empty, just a few students hurrying between buildings under the soft glow of the streetlights.

Without a word, Joe stopped walking and pulled his purple LSU hoodie over his head, his t-shirt riding up slightly in the process. You tried not to stare at the glimpse of skin, the way his hair stuck up after the fabric passed over it.

"Here," he said, holding it out to you.

"Joe, you don't have to—"

"Take it." His voice was gentle but firm, and when you still hesitated, he stepped closer and pulled it over your head himself, his fingers briefly brushing against your neck as he adjusted the hood. "It looks better on you than it did on me, anyway."

The hoodie was warm from his body heat and smelled like his cologne—something woodsy and clean that made your chest tight with feelings you'd been carefully keeping buried for three years. You pulled it closer around yourself, trying not to think about how the casual gesture felt like the most intimate thing in the world.

"Thanks," you managed, your voice smaller than you intended.

Joe's smile was soft, genuine. "Always."

If only he knew how many times you'd replay that moment over the next few days. How you'd wear his hoodie to bed, pressing your face into the soft fabric and pretending it meant something more than friendship. How you'd catch yourself staring at him during your group's regular hangouts at Ja'Marr's apartment, wondering what it would feel like if he looked at you the way you looked at him.

But Joe Burrow had never seen you as anything more than a friend, and you'd accepted that reality a long time ago.

Or at least, you thought you had.

***

December 15th, 2018

"So Heather's coming tonight," Justin announced as your group gathered at the usual bar near campus, the kind of place that was sticky and loud and perfect for cheap drinks and good times.

You tried to keep your expression neutral at the mention of her name. Heather Collins had appeared in your friend group two weeks ago—some connection through one of the girls in your broader social circle—and she was everything you'd never been. Tall, blonde, effortlessly beautiful in a way that made guys stop mid-conversation when she walked by.

Including Joe.

"Cool," Ja'Marr said, already scanning the crowd for their server. "She seems nice."

She was nice. That was the worst part. You wanted to hate her, wanted to find some flaw that would justify the sick feeling in your stomach every time you saw Joe's face light up when she entered a room. But Heather was genuinely sweet, funny, and completely unaware of the effect she had on everyone around her.

"There she is," someone said, and you looked up to see Heather weaving through the crowd toward your table. She was wearing a cream-colored sweater that probably cost more than your textbooks, her hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders.

Joe stood up immediately, that easy smile spreading across his face—the one that used to be reserved for your group, for moments when he was relaxed and happy. Now it seemed to appear every time Heather was around.

"Hey," he said, pulling out the chair next to him. "Saved you a seat."

Heather beamed, sliding into the chair with graceful ease. "You're too sweet."

You took a large sip of your drink and tried to focus on the conversation Ja'Marr was having about their upcoming bowl game, but your attention kept drifting to Joe and Heather. The way he leaned in when she spoke, like he didn't want to miss a single word. The way she laughed at his jokes, not the polite chuckle you'd perfected over the years.

"You okay?" Justin asked quietly, following your gaze.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

But Justin's expression said he wasn't buying it, and when you glanced around the table, you caught similar looks from the rest of your friends. Everyone could see what was happening except the two people at the center of it.

As the night wore on, you watched Joe become more and more captivated by Heather. He bought her drinks, told her stories about growing up in Ohio, made her laugh until her cheeks flushed pink. And when she got cold—because, of course, she got cold—he didn't hesitate to shrug out of his jacket and drape it around her shoulders.

It was a nice jacket. Nicer than the old hoodie he'd given you two weeks ago. Newer, more expensive, the kind of thing you gave to someone you wanted to impress.

"I should probably head home," you said during a lull in conversation, already reaching for your purse.

"Already?" Joe looked genuinely disappointed, and for a moment, your heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he paid attention to you. "It's not even midnight."

"I'm tired, I wanna go home and crash," you said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Watching Joe fall for someone else was exhausting.

"I'll walk you out," Ja'Marr offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm good. Have fun, guys."

You made your rounds of quick hugs and goodbyes, trying not to notice how Joe's attention was already drifting back to Heather before you'd even left the table. Outside, the December air felt sharp against your skin, but you welcomed the bite of it. Anything was better than sitting there watching the boy you'd been in love with for months fall for someone else right in front of you.

Your phone buzzed as you waited for your Uber.

Joe: Get home safe. Text me when you're there.

You stared at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Months of friendship, and he still texted you after every night out to make sure you got home okay. It was sweet, thoughtful, and completely platonic.

You: Will do.

But as you climbed into the backseat of the car, you made a decision. You were tired of watching from the sidelines. Tired of pretending it didn't hurt. Tired of being the friend who got the old hoodie while other girls got the nice jacket.

It was time to protect your heart.

***

December 22nd, 2018

Joe: Movie night at my place tonight? Ja'Marr's bringing his PlayStation.

You: Can't tonight, working on a paper that's due Monday.

Joe: Bowl party this weekend? Everyone's coming.

You: Might have to work, I'll let you know.

Joe: Haven't seen you around lately. Everything good?

You: Just busy with end-of-semester stuff! You know how it is.

Except Joe didn't know how it was, because his classes were online and his biggest concern was preparing for their bowl game. But it was easier to blame school than admit the truth—that seeing him with Heather felt like swallowing glass, and you were finally putting yourself first.

You'd been successfully avoiding the group for over a week, declining invitations with vague excuses about work and school. It helped that finals were actually approaching, giving you a legitimate reason to be scarce. But the real test would be Joe's next game.

You'd never missed one of his games, not once, since he'd transferred. You had a ritual—his number 9 jersey, the same seat in the student section with your friends, the same pre-game text wishing him luck. Missing it would definitely send a message.

But as you sat in your apartment that Saturday afternoon, listening to the crowd roar from Tiger Stadium a few miles away, you knew you'd made the right choice. You turned off your phone and tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, ignoring the way your chest ached with every distant cheer.

Your phone stayed off until Sunday morning, and when you finally turned it back on, the messages were waiting.

Joe: Good luck, text? Come on, it's tradition.

Joe: Looked for you in the stands. Where were you?

Joe: Call me when you get this.

Ja'Marr: Joe's asking where you were. What do I tell him?

Justin: You missed a good game. Joe threw for 4 TDs.

Joe: Seriously, are you okay? I'm worried.

You stared at the messages for a long time before typing back.

You: Sorry, wasn't feeling well yesterday. Heard you guys won though! Congrats.

It wasn't technically a lie. Heartbreak was a kind of sickness, wasn't it?

Joe: Thanks. Feel better.

The conversation felt stilted, wrong. After months of easy friendship, you suddenly didn't know how to talk to each other. But this was what protecting yourself looked like—messy, painful, necessary.

You just had to stick with it.

***

January 8th, 2019

"Alright, what the hell is going on with you and her?" Ja'Marr's voice cut through the noise of the bar where Joe was nursing his second beer, trying to celebrate their bowl game win and failing miserably.

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked, though he knew exactly what Ja'Marr meant.

"Don't play dumb. You've been asking all of us about her for weeks. She's been MIA since before Christmas. What did you do?"

Joe's jaw tightened. "I didn't do anything. She says she's been busy with school and work."

"School and work." Justin snorted, sliding into the booth across from them. "Right. When did she stop coming around, Joe? Think about it."

"I don't know, a couple weeks ago—"

"Try again." Ja'Marr's voice was pointed. "When exactly did she start bailing on group stuff? When did she miss your game for the first time in three years?"

Joe thought back, a sick feeling forming in his stomach. "I don't know, maybe mid-December—"

"Oh, I don't know," Justin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe right around when you and Heather started doing whatever it is you're doing?"

Joe went quiet, staring down at his beer. Your short texts. Missing his game. The way you'd barely said two words to him lately.

"Shit," he said quietly.

"Oh," he said quietly, the realization washing over him like cold water.

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Ja'Marr said. "Jesus, Joe. We've all been watching this for fuckin' months, dude."

"Watching what?" But even as he asked, Joe knew. He'd always known, somewhere deep down, where he hadn't let himself look too closely. The way you smiled at him. The way you always showed up. The way you fit so perfectly into his life that he'd never questioned why you were always there.

"She's in love with you, man," Justin said. "Has been for a while. And you've been too up your own ass to notice."

Up his own ass. Yeah, that was exactly what he'd been. So focused on football, on his own stuff, that he'd completely missed what was right in front of him. He'd convinced himself you were being a good friend, never bothering to look deeper.

So he'd dated other girls. Kept things casual. Told himself he was protecting your friendship when really he was protecting himself.

And Heather? Heather was easy. Pretty, uncomplicated, new. He didn't have to think about it.

"Shit," Joe breathed, running his hands through his hair. "Shit, I really fucked this up."

"Yeah, you did," Ja'Marr agreed. "Question is, what are you gonna do about it?"

Joe looked around the bar, suddenly desperate to leave. To find you. To fix this before he lost you completely.

"I have to end things with Heather," he said, already reaching for his jacket.

"And then?"

Joe met his friends' eyes, the realization still sinking in.

"Then I have to fix this."

* * *

January 9th, 2019

Joe found Heather at her usual study spot in the library the next afternoon, her blonde hair catching the light as she bent over her textbook. She looked up when he approached, her face brightening with that easy smile that had initially drawn him to her.

"Hey," she said, closing her book. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you. How was your night with the guys?"

Joe slid into the chair across from her, suddenly unsure how to start. Heather was sweet, and she didn't deserve to be hurt because he'd been an idiot.

"It was good," he said, then paused. "Actually, we need to talk."

Something in his tone must have given him away because her smile faltered slightly. "Okay."

"We should probably stop this," Joe said. "It's not fair to you."

Heather was quiet for a moment, studying his face. When she spoke, there was understanding in her voice rather than surprise.

"This is about her, isn't it?" she asked. "Your friend who stopped coming around."

Joe's eyebrows raised. "You noticed?"

"Kind of hard not to," Heather said with a small smile. "The way you kept looking toward the door when we were out, like you were expecting someone. How you'd get this look on your face when someone mentioned her name." She shrugged. "I figured you'd realize it eventually."

"I'm sorry," Joe said again, meaning it. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this."

"I know." Heather reached across the table and briefly squeezed his hand. "For what it's worth, I hope you figure it out with her. She's lucky to have someone care about her that much, even if you're too stubborn to see it."

Joe managed a rueful smile. "Thanks. I hope so, too."

"Just don't wait too long," Heather said, gathering her things. "Girls like that don't stay single forever."

* * *

January 9th, 2019 - Evening

Joe: Can we talk?

Joe stared at his phone for twenty minutes. No response. Not even read receipts.

Joe: I know you're avoiding me.

Another hour passed. Nothing.

Joe: I fucked up. I get that now.

Still nothing. Joe ran his hands through his hair, pacing around his apartment. He'd never had to chase after anyone before, never had to work this hard just to get someone to respond to a text.

The next day, he was desperate enough to try a different approach.

***

January 10th, 2019

Joe was sitting on the steps outside your building when you got back from your late Thursday class. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and you stopped short when you saw him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice carefully neutral.

"You won't answer my texts."

"I've been busy."

"Bullshit." The word came out harsher than he intended, and he saw you flinch slightly. "Sorry. But come on. It's me."

You shifted your weight, looking anywhere but at him. "What do you want, Joe?"

"I want to talk to you. Not whatever this has been for the past month."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Really?" Joe stepped closer, and you took a step back. "Because Ja'Marr and Justin seem to think there is."

Your face went pale, then flushed red. "What did they tell you?"

"The truth, apparently. Something I should have figured out a long time ago."

You were quiet for a long moment, hugging your backpack tighter against your chest like armor. When you finally looked at him, there was something guarded in your expression that he'd never seen before.

"Congratulations," you said flatly. "You figured it out. Do you want a medal?"

The bitter tone caught him off guard. This wasn't how he'd imagined this conversation going.

"Can I come up?" he asked. "Please. Five minutes."

You stared at him for what felt like forever before shaking your head.

"I can't do this right now, Joe."

"When then?"

"I don't know. Maybe never."

You turned and walked toward your building without looking back, leaving Joe standing alone in the parking lot with the sinking realization that fixing this was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought.

* * *

January 12th, 2019

You'd been avoiding the complex's common areas for three days, taking the long way to your car and timing your movements around when you knew Joe would be at practice. But Saturday morning, you ran out of coffee, and desperation won over pride.

Of course, he was in the parking lot, loading gear into his car.

"Hey," he said when he spotted you.

You gave him a small nod and kept walking toward your car, keys already in hand.

"Wait." His voice was quieter than usual. "Please."

You stopped but didn't turn around.

"I ended things with Heather."

That made you turn. Joe was standing a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, looking more uncertain than you'd ever seen him.

"Good for you," you said, but there wasn't much bite in it.

"I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I need to say it. I was wrong. About everything."

You studied his face, looking for something you weren't sure you'd recognize. "Joe—"

"Just... can we talk? Not out here. My place."

You were quiet for a long moment, weighing the ache in your chest against the small part of you that still hoped this might mean something.

"Your place," you said finally. "Twenty minutes. And this doesn't fix anything."

Relief flickered across his expression. "I know."

"Twenty minutes," you repeated, getting in your car before you could change your mind.

As you got in your car to get coffee, you tried to prepare yourself for whatever this conversation was going to be. But deep down, you knew there was no preparing for Joe Burrow finally wanting to talk about feelings.

* * *

Joe's apartment was the same as always—a couch, a big TV, not much else. You sat on the edge of his couch while he stood by the kitchen like he wasn't sure where to put himself.

"So," you said when the silence stretched too long. "Talk."

Joe ran a hand through his hair. "I don't really know where to start."

"How about why you suddenly care now?" The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn't take them back. "Funny how you want to have this conversation right after I stop coming around."

"That's not—" Joe stopped, jaw tightening. "Okay, maybe it is. But not the way you think."

"Then explain it to me."

He was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. "I didn't know," he said finally. "I genuinely didn't know you felt... I mean, I hoped sometimes, but I convinced myself I was seeing things that weren't there."

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Right. So this has nothing to do with losing your friend and everything to do with some great revelation about your feelings."

"No, that's not—" Joe's voice got sharper, frustrated. "God, you're not making this easy."

"Why should I make this easy?" You stood up, suddenly too restless to sit. "You want to know what's not easy? Watching you with a different girl every few weeks. Heather was just the last one I could handle watching. Watching you give her your nice jacket while I got some old hoodie."

Joe's expression shifted. "You think that's what that was?"

"Wasn't it?"

"No." He stepped closer, something intense in his voice. "That hoodie was my favorite. I gave it to you because..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Because what?"

"Because I wanted you to have something of mine. Something that was important to me."

You stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. But you'd spent too many weeks protecting yourself to let your guard down that easily.

"That's convenient," you said. "Real convenient that you're remembering all these meaningful moments now that I'm not around anymore."

Joe's eyes flashed. "You want to know when I knew? 

You crossed your arms, waiting.

"When you didn't text me before the Auburn game. Since I got here, you never missed that text. I kept checking my phone right up until kickoff, and when it didn't come..." He shook his head. "I played like shit that first quarter because I kept looking for you in the stands."

"Joe—"

"I'm not done." His voice was steady now, more sure of himself. "When Justin asked me when you stopped coming around, I knew exactly when. December fifteenth. Because that was the first time I went out and didn't look for you when I walked into the room. And I hated it."

You felt something crack in your chest, but you held onto your anger like a lifeline.

"So what? You miss having me around as your friend? 

"It's not about missing a friend." Joe stepped closer again, and this time you didn't back away. "I don't want you as just my friend. I should have figured that out sooner."

"Prove it," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Joe looked at you for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. "How?"

* * *

Joe was quiet for a moment, looking at you like he was trying to figure out where to start.

"You remember that night in October when you fell asleep on my couch watching film?" he said finally.

You frowned, not sure where this was going. "Yeah."

"I carried you to my bed and slept on the couch. But before I did, I just... sat there for like twenty minutes watching you sleep." He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable with the admission. "I kept thinking about how right you looked there. In my space, in my bed."

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you kept your mouth shut.

"And that time you came to the library at like 2 AM when I was stressed about the Alabama game. You didn't even say anything, just brought me coffee and sat there while I watched film for three hours."

"I was being a good friend—"

"No." Joe shook his head. "That's what I told myself, too. But good friends don't make your heart race when they walk into a room. They don't make you wish you were brave enough to kiss them when they fall asleep on your shoulder."

You felt your resolve starting to crack.

"You want to know why I gave you that hoodie?" Joe stepped closer. "Because I liked seeing you in my clothes. I liked that you smelled like my detergent the next day. I liked that everyone could see you wearing something that was mine."

"Joe..."

"And when you stopped coming around, it wasn't just that I missed my friend. I missed you specifically. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes. How you always steal food off my plate, even when you have your own. The way you get that little crease between your eyebrows when you're concentrating."

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head up to look at him.

"I missed wanting to kiss you and being too much of a coward to do it," he said quietly. "So yeah, maybe it took you pulling away for me to realize what I was losing. But what I was losing wasn't just a friend."

You stared at him, heart hammering against your ribs. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I ended things with Heather before I even talked to you," Joe said. "Because I'm standing here telling you things I've never said out loud to anyone. Because I'm willing to risk whatever friendship we have left for the chance that you might feel the same way."

The last of your walls crumbled.

"I do," you whispered. "Feel the same way. I have for so long, Joe."

Something shifted in his expression—relief, want, something that made your breath catch.

"Yeah?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice rough.

You answered by reaching up and pulling him down to you.

* * *

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like you were both still testing the waters of this new territory. Joe's hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones as he kissed you with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

"This is weird, right?" you said, voicing what you were both thinking.

Joe's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "The kind of weird we can work with?"

"Yeah," you said, reaching up to touch his face. "Definitely that kind."

"We just made out in my apartment," Joe said, like he was testing the words. "That's... new."

You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all, and Joe joined in, the tension breaking into something lighter. When the laughter faded, he was looking at you with an expression you'd never seen before—soft, open, completely unguarded.

"I can't believe we waited this long to do that," he said.

"I can't believe you were too scared to make a move for months," you teased, some of your usual dynamic sliding back into place.

"Hey, you could have made a move too," Joe protested, but he was smiling.

"I was protecting my heart, thank you very much. You were the one dating half of LSU."

Joe winced slightly. "Yeah, about that... I'm sorry. I really didn't know."

You studied his face, seeing the genuine regret there. "I know you didn't. That's what made it worse, honestly. You weren't trying to hurt me."

"I never want to hurt you," Joe said seriously. "Not ever again."

The weight of that promise settled between you, and you realized that despite the weirdness, despite the months of friendship you were potentially risking, this felt right. More right than anything had in a long time.

"So what now?" you asked.

Joe shrugged, but he was still smiling. "I guess we figure it out."

"Our friends are never going to let us live this down," you said, already dreading the smug looks from their friend group.

Joe groaned. "I forgot about them."

[munv]

Hi, I hope you're doing well :) Could I request Pomefiore 12? (Vil being picky about anyone touching or taking care of him and reader coming in cuz he only wants their attention)

HIP HOP!

posted..once again!! BOOMMM

ITS FINISHED WAHOOOO

discord server

Rook looked like he was ready to cry, he was in a corner, a glittering corner.

"He won't eat, sleep, and refuses to be brushed! Doux sept, it truly breaks my heart to witness!" he cried

You stared at the pristine rabbit sitting on the dorm couch like it was a throne. White fur and lilac eyes, with a disgustingly judgemental twitch to his nose. It was as if he was judging everyone in the room. Like everyone he had eyes on had something lacking.

"Vil?" You stepped forward from Rook's corner to face him.

The bunny turned his head to examine you almost immediately. Elegant. Effortless. Stylishly. He then jumped down from the couch and hopped until he was in front of you. Stopping at your feet, he looked up expectantly.

Epel scowled, "I tried feeding him, and he kicked lettuce right into my face."

"I attempted to brush his fur..He bit the only good brush! TWICE!"

You kneeled in front of the rabbit with a sigh and outstretched your hands. You watched as Vil took a sniff of your hands, before he leaped into the palm of your hands. Epel stared. "He's purring."

"Oddly polite for someone who won't even accept some proper grooming." Rook clasped his hands together in wonder "only you could tame the heart of our delicate beaute! even if he is in the most fluffiest of form!"

You glanced at him with a raised brow "Im pretty sure he's just upset that your hands were dirty but alright."

Later into the evening, Vil had claimed your lap as his personal longue. Stretched out on the silk hand towel. Grim stared from the staircase. "..I never thought that the high life I could be living was taken from me by a fake bunny.." he sneered. You absentmindedly ran your fingers along his fur.

"Y'know..if he finds out about this when he turns back, he's gonna kill ya"

"He's the one that chose this, not me." you replied without batting an eye. "I didn't even purr when you fed me tuna. BY HAND"

"You bit my hand mistaking it as tuna as well." "tch."

Vil lifted his head to shoot Grim a glance. Even as a bunny, his disdain was obvious. "Ya got something to say ya fluffball? I bet yer jus tryna get in good with my henchman so they take your side when crowley finds out about all those shipments you ordered!"

Vil gave a squeak and rolled over in your lap

Grim huffed "im gonna steal all ya beauty products one of these days and replace them with sardine residue" Vil flicked his ears in defiance as to what you could presume to be a "you wouldn't dare"

[jetblack4realz]

protector - haymitch abernathy

not her

masterlist

after a week of teasing the capitol, haymitch has gotten really good at setting boundaries with pushy peacekeepers and sponsors.

warnings: sexualizing, allusions to sa and gross people, spoilers to sotr, age gap of like 3 years

word count: 2.6k

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

twelve more days in the capitol and twelve more parties to attend, each one decorated as a different district in "preparation" for your victory tour - though several capitol women complained about the tackiness of doing distrct 4 twice in one week from your first celebration.

you and haymitch had done your due diligence with flirting, the boy whisking you away for at least a dance or two each night and stealing your time with sponsors. he had expert timing, always stepping in when a man over forty was getting too close.

"honey, have you tried this?"

you didn't even turn, simply holding a hand out to accept the little pink eclair the district 12 boy was offering you. his hand settled on your waist securely and you could practically hear his overdramatic expression as he turned his attention to the green-haired gentleman opposite you.

"you into eclairs?" haymitch didn't wait for a response to continue, his other hand falling to your arm. "i'd never had one before i first came here for my games, but i think they're the best damn thing the capitol's come up with."

the man's brows raised, slightly hesitant and extremely confused. "oh, yes. yes i am a fan of the eclairs."

"who isn't?" haymitch chuckled, his breath hitting your ear as he began pulling you backwards with him. "now, if you'll excuse me i need to introduce our sparkly new victor to some friends."

you started to learn to do it too; those colorful capitol ladies sure had sweet spots for district 12's only living victor.

they weren't shy about their interest in him - hands on his arm or chest as they pushed bright colored drinks in his face and giggled on about how much of an eligible bachelor he was.

"oh haymitch, you would love this!" a woman looking to be about thirty chirped, a flamingo-pink margarita in her hand as she offered it to the younger boy. she was stood entirely too close to him with her free hand on his upper arm, leaving a faint purple stain on his white shirt. "it's bubblegum flavored."

you quickly snatched a glass of whiskey off the tray of a passing server, spinning as you slid up to his side with a hand on his back and the glass just slightly in front of the other lady's. "here, h. noticed you were out."

he took it from your hand, smiling gently in your direction as you turned your eyes to the lady you recognized from the sponsor booths who'd been supporting your district partner. "he's into dark liquors, not the fun, bright stuff like the rest of us. i'd be happy to try it though, thank you!"

they were all talking about you two. everyone. just as you hoped.

whispers as he pulled you around the parties, pictures snapped when you met for a meal or went on a walk, giggling questions about the other whenever approached.

"are you dating haymitch abernathy?"

you looked up with wide eyes, glancing sideways at mags before turning your attention to the young teen in front of you. "sorry?"

"are you dating him?" she repeated, a hand settling on her hip as she looked over your blue sundress that seemed rather simple in comparison to her flamboyant toile bubble of a dress. "because my dad was going to introduce us at the party last night and instead he was all caught up with you."

you laughed a bit, shaking your head. "no, sweetheart, we're not officially dating."

"unofficially?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business," you answered as politely as possible.

she scoffed. "well, i'm gonna be at the party tonight too. i'll find him and no one will be wondering if you two are dating again." she hesitated, thinking through her words again. "because it'll be me. he'll be dating me."

"well, i look forward to seeing you tonight," you told her with a smile. "we'll be at the bar so you can find us - oh, except it's 18 and older..."

she paused, racking her brain for any sort of way she could get out of that situation and hopefully into haymitch's arms. after a few moments she just scoffed and walked away.

you laughed to mags when you saw caesar's gossip review later that day, quoting an anonymous witness saying that you admitted to being in an unofficial relationship with haymitch.

you even saw a headline in the capitol newspaper:

“Seashells & Sass: Y/n Flanagan and Haymitch Abernathy Spark Romance Rumors!”

it was night 7, the theme following suit.

you felt like a tree, in a skin tight, bark-patterned dress and a headdress of leaves that you were pissed your stylist placed on your head. it sounded like streamers being shook around every time you moved and bobbed in and out of your eyesight as you tried to talk to people.

"i love your leaves!" a girl in a similar brown dress to yours complemented, one hand rising to mess with the little green fabric pieces.

"really? thank you!" you said, smiling as you reached to pull them off. "here! you can wear them. they'd look darling with your dress."

"oh, you're so kind!" she chirped, accepting the headband with a wide smile and slipping the canopy of leaves onto her hair.

behind her, a man in different shades of green all over his suit popped out of the crowd, his eyes immediately landing on you. his short black hair had green sparkles gelled into it, shimmering against the light of the overhead chandeliers, and to you he just looked like the embodiment of disgust. when he met your eyes, your face fell for a moment before you picked it right back up and focused back on the girl in front of you, pushing a leaf to the side to see her face better.

"don't even thank me," you told her, patting her arm as you moved past her towards the bar. "you have a good night!"

you didn't even hear her response. "gigi! hey, gigi!"

mags turned with furrowed brows as you stood in front of her barstool. "what is it, dear?"

"i have to get out of here," you said, shaking your head as you let out an exhausted breath. "i don't think i've gotten a full night of sleep since before the reaping and there's this guy who keeps following me around."

"what?" she asked, moving to stand before you rested a hand on her arm to stop her. "who?"

"i can't remember what he said his name was, but he's about my height-" you held a hand to the top of your head for reference "-dressed head to toe in the ugliest shades of green ever, and keeps making comments about how surprised he is a girl of my age can have the curves that i do in this dress."

she was about to say something, her brows knitted into a glare, but then you added quickly with a glance to the side:

"oh, and he's on his way over to me again."

she followed your gaze and presumably spotted the man before she looked back to you. "has haymitch been with you?"

"yes, but never when he comes around. i think that's strategic," you answered. "so, i think i'm gonna head back to my room. can you cover for me?"

"don't go alone, darling," she said, shaking her head. "i'll come with you."

"no, i'm fine, really," you insisted, waving her suggestion away.

"just, hold on-"

you glanced to the side and the man was moving quicker towards you.

"gigi, i'm gonna go. i really don't want to deal with all of this right now," you told her, moving to the side to slip out the door beside the bar.

"sweetie, honestly-"

"well, hello again."

both yours and mags' eyes snapped to the side, tensing at the sight of the glittery fifty-something year old.

"oh. hello," you answered politely.

"figaro," he said, grinning widely as he told you his name and held his hand out towards you. "i know you must be meeting so many people that you forgot. totally understandable. but, i promise you won't forget it by the end of the night."

"except unfortunately my granddaughter's night has come to an end," mags told him, the man lowering his hand as he looked at the woman. "she's exhausted and feeling ill, so if you'll excuse us-"

"oh, i'd be happy to walk her to her room," figaro said. "no need for your night to end."

"no, that's quite alright. i will take her," she answered, her lips set in a thin line as she eyed him.

"i insist," the man said, reaching forward to take your arm and step towards the door you were previously trying to escape out of. "it's no problem." and then he leaned closer to you, a sickly sweet smile on his lips as they hovered by your ear. "i was hoping to take up some of your night. like i said earlier, i'll get you to remember my name by the end of it."

"no," you said sharply, pulling your arm from his grasp and stepping back towards mags. "no."

"no?" he repeated.

"no," you said, frowning deeply. "no, i can't even imagine why you would-"

"do we have a problem here?"

a peacekeeper. all dressed in white with a gun on his hip. and his eyes were on you.

"yes, actually," you said. "this man won't leave me alone. if you could escort me back to my room, that would be greatly appreciated."

he eyed you for several moments before glancing at the man to your left and back to you. "i believe president snow requested that you be as accommodating to our sponsors as possible."

you were dumbfounded, your mouth dropped open and your brows knitted. next to you, mags was obviously frustrated, but a certain knowing was in her expression too as she reached to squeeze your hand.

"actually, he didn't."

the peacekeeper spun around to find panem's favorite golden-haired, whiskey-drowning victor, his brows raised questioningly at the peacekeeper.

"those rules may apply to some of our fellow victors, but not her," he continued, stepping between you and the two other men, setting his glass on the bartop beside mags. "you get that? not her."

you and your grandmother both held your breath as you watched the expressions of the peacekeeper and figaro morph from annoyance to confusion to a strange mix of frustration, knowing, and fear.

what sparked that?

the spark then reached for your hand behind his back and you took it gratefully.

"if you could relay that information to your friends - both of you - that would be lovely," haymitch said. "we're going to leave now and neither of you are going to have any issues with it, because you have no reason to. are we clear?"

another beat of silence before the peacekeeper nodded. "yes sir."

"good, that's what i like to hear. and you, my lovely green friend?"

"crystal clear."

"wonderful. you all have a wonderful night now," he said with a false smile, turning and keeping you and mags in front of him as he moved towards the door. when your grandmother pushed the door open he glanced over his shoulder at figaro and lifted a hand vaguely in his direction. "you have some... glitter in your hair, by the way. just thought you should know."

and then he slipped into the hallway after you and mags, shutting the door firmly behind him.

he shot you both a smile. "alright ladies, let's head home."

one hand hovered over the small of your back as he walked you both back to your rooms, taking the elevator and dropping off mags first before walking down the rest of the hallway to yours.

"thank you," you told him when he came to your side again. you took his hand. "seriously."

"no problem. hopefully they get the memo from now on," he huffed.

"hopefully."

"and if they don't i'll just rescue you again," he told you, smiling gently as you guys stepped in the elevator to go up to your room. you pressed the button for the appropriate level. "i never have an issue with playing hero for a bit."

you hesitated. "are they going to try again? like... when you're not here? when gigi isn't here? what do i - what do i do then?"

"it won't happen," he told you, hands moving to grip your upper arms gently and slowly rubbed them up and down. "it won't. don't answer the door unless you know it's me or mags. just pretend you're asleep and if they keep knocking message me on my intercom. i'll come."

"you'll come."

"i'll come," he said again. "i promise."

"okay," you said quietly. "thank you. you didn't need to do all of this."

he shrugged, his hands stopping their movements and staying still on your arms. "i don't mind it. really."

except you thought he did. you could assumed how exhausting all of this probably was. how much effort he had to put into socializing. not that he ever said it - he's only been kind. but, you know it isn't easy. this is a threat to him too.

you threw your arms around his neck, squeezing tightly as you felt his arms wind around your waist securely, hugging you back. "thank you, haymitch. for helping me."

"i'm here for you," he mumbled into your hair. "and i will be for as long as you need me to be."

you pulled back with a sad laugh. "even if that means forever because i'm too damn scared to go it alone?"

he tucked your hair behind your ear with a gentle frown as he considered your words. several beats of silence passed before he finally answered: "you're not weak because you're scared of being hurt, you know. i'm scared too. believe it or not, being with you like this has made it... easier."

"oh." it was all you could come up with, however idiotic it was.

but then the doors opened and haymitch was pulling you out after him.

"you're really good at this, by the way," he said. "or, at least, you've gotten better. the whole flirting thing? you're very convincing now."

"it's, uh, gotten easier," you said with an awkward laugh.

he laughed gruffly. "ditto."

did he mean what you meant by that?

probably not. no. he didn't want this. but, well, neither did you.

it wasn't long before you reached your door and you lifted your wristband to the lock to let you in. it flashed green and then you paused before pushing it open. you clicked the authorizing code on the little screen, resetting the lock controls with another tap of your wristband before turning back to haymitch.

"give me your wrist," you said, reaching for his left hand.

"what?"

"i need your wrist." and then you just grabbed it, holding up his own coded wristband until the light flashed green again. his eyes were on you as he realized what you did, his brows furrowing. but, before he could ask the question, you spoke again. "just so if anything happens you know and you can get in. it sends me notifications when someone goes in that's not me... now you know too." you hesitated. "is that alright?"

"smart," he hummed. "how else am i supposed to be the hero?"

you smiled. "just trying to help you out."

"well, i appreciate it," he said, tilting his head at you. he reached a hand out to brush your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. "you get some rest. i'm just a walk away."

"yeah," you nodded. "okay."

"goodnight," he said and you pushed your door open.

"goodnight."

[pinkofatom]

Casino Bunny

CW: hypnosis, brainwashing, ftf transformation, mentions of gambling

Hiya! Happy Easter (or Bunny Girl Day)🩷 I hope you will enjoy this story and have a wonderful day.

Maybe you'll hop over to my ko-fi and hide a tip?

Happy sounds filled Alina's ears. Bright lights flashed in celebration. Giddy she accepted another win. Today was her lucky day! With a smile she inhaled the smokey casino air. It smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. The floor was a chaotic mess of bright flashing lights and happy sounds. The jingles of slots, cheers from the table, and even the clatter from behind the bars. It was a symphony to her ears.

Alina wiggled in her seat, her skirt rode a little higher. It exposed the lacy hem of her stockings to the world. A shiver went up her legs. Her body got hot and cold, the hair stood on end. It felt weird to show so much skin, to expose the bare parts of her thighs. But at the same time it felt liberating, it made her feel sexy. She hid her giggles behind a hand. The winning streak made her light-headed.

A woman clad in a bunny outfit came up to Alina. "Good evening ma'am," she said with a smile, "you must be thirsty, can I bring you anything?"

Alina blinked. The server's black bodysuit clung to her figure like a glove, showing off her curves, especially her breasts. Her gaze glued to those round globes. Swallowing a lump, Alina answered, "Uhm, no?" Heat flushed her cheeks.

"Are you sure," the bunny asked, her smile got bigger, "maybe you'd like something — full." She leaned forward, putting her cleavage right in front of Alina's face. The top of the bodysuit could barely hold back her large breasts. Alina stared, her eyes wide, her jaw dropped a little. "Something — sweet." The woman whispered. "Something that would give you a nice," her hand lightly brushed over Alina's cleavage, "warm," her fingers traced Alina's neck and stopped to hold her cheek, "feeling." She lifted Alina's chin. Their eyes met.

Alina couldn't stop staring. Azure crystals reflected her face, the server's eyes looked so shiny and pretty, they seemed to glow with a faint blue light. Her mouth got dry, she licked her lips, her throat felt tight, a tingle ran down her body, and her heart started to race.

"Doesn't that sound lovely." The bunny girl's smile widened. Her blue eyes sparkled in anticipation.

The tingles intensified. Alina squirmed in her seat, her cheeks burned. The world seemed to melt away, her head felt light and tingly. "Yeah," Alina answered breathless, "I'd love some — " The word got stuck on her tongue, her mind felt clouded.

"Help," the bunny asked. Her voice was low, she leaned in closer. Her warm breath brushed over Alina's face. She smelled of chocolate.

Alina's throat went tight. "Yes, please," Alina begged in a whisper.

"Of course ma'am." The server pulled back. "Please focus on my voice, ma'am," she instructed, "focus only on my voice, let it fill your ears and drown out the sounds of the world." The bunny paused for a moment. "I'll take care of you, ma'am. I will give you something sweet and lovely." The woman leaned in close, she cupped Alina's cheeks in her soft hands. "And all that you need to do —is listen. Can you do that, ma'am?" Her fingers stroked Alina's skin. A tingle followed the woman's touch. "Nod if you understand, ma'am."

"Yes." Alina nodded, she couldn't help it, it just happened.

"Very good." The woman gave Alina another warm smile. "Just relax, ma'am. Let yourself become calm. Take a deep breath in." The server breathed in, "And a breath out." The bunny breathed out. Alina followed her example. "That's perfect, ma'am." The server took Alina's hands and held them gently. "Keep breathing like this." Her hands felt so soft. "Close your eyes, and let the sound of the casino fade into the distance."

Alina shut her eyes. Her eyelids felt heavy, her muscles relaxed. "Let my voice fill your mind, let my words soothe you. Imagine that my words are a soft cloud wrapping around you." Alina's back trembled and her head began to swim. The servers voice wrapped around her. It was warm and gentle.

"You can still hear me," the server continued, "you can still feel my touch, but you feel calm and safe, and that is good." Alina's mouth fell open slightly. Her breathing deepened, her heart thumped, her head was light, her body was tingling, and she felt so warm.

"That's perfect," the server continued, her fingers stroking Alina's hands, "you feel safe. Safe to let go. Safe to trust. Trust that you can listen to my words."

Alina's head fell forward; saliva dropped from her lips. The words washed over her, filling her mind.

"You trust that my words are true," the bunny girl's words sounded so far away, but so close at the same time. They echoed inside her mind. Alina felt so safe and comfortable. Her muscles went slack. "They make you feel so relaxed. You want to listen to them."

"Yes," Alina mumbled, "words true."

"You trust that my words will take care of you. You feel like you are sinking, but that's alright." Alina felt herself sink into her chair. "You trust my voice. My words will guide you to where you should be. And you are so grateful."

"Yes." Alina felt a smile tug at her lips.

"And every time you sink," the server's words sank deeper and deeper, they echoed in Alina's ears, "you feel the need to thank me for guiding you. Thank me for taking care of you."

Alina licked her dry lips. "Thank you," she said with a breath.

The bunny's fingers drew circles on Alina's hand. "And every time you thank me you sink a little bit deeper."

"Thank you," Alina moaned, she sank lower into the chair, it embraced her like a soft blanket. It was so comfortable. The world was so far away.

"But that is alright," the server continued. Her voice sounded like velvet, her words caressed Alina. "It feels so nice, to sink. It's like your mind is drifting down a slow river and every time I talk, every time you hear my voice you are gently carried away by the stream."

"Yes," Alina mumbled in agreement, she could feel it. A gentle stream was carrying her deeper into her chair, her body, her thoughts, they drifted with the flow, and her mind got hazy. "Thank you." She sank even deeper, her mind drifted further down the river of relaxation. Her world shrank. It became nothing but darkness, warm darkness, a cozy place. And the server's words, they kept her company. They echoed, they were everywhere, and that was right, it was perfect. The voice of the bunny, it was all she wanted, it was all she needed.

The server continued, "Drifting further and further away. Nothing worries you. Nothing bothers you. You are just drifting and sinking, deeper and deeper." Her words were a melody. "Down, down, down," she cooed.

"Down." Alina's lips were dry. Her mouth felt parched, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except her relaxation. It felt so good. She wanted to sink deeper and deeper into this wonderful, cozy darkness that embraced her, like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night.

"You are drifting away, listening to my voice and feeling the world drift away. Your conscious mind so relaxed it simply falls asleep. Only your subconscious mind is aware." Alina's breathing became slow and deep, she drifted on the river of words. Her thoughts melted into the warm embrace of her subconscious. "It listens to my voice. It listens and understands." Her subconscious mind nodded, she knew it did, and that felt right, so very right. "Your conscious mind trusts your subconscious, so much, so completely, it can't resist. And your subconscious accepts everything I say as truth."

"Yes, truth." Alina mumbled in agreement, she was drifting in the dark and it felt right, she didn't need her conscious mind, it would only get in her way, and her subconscious knew the truth.

"Very good." The bunny's fingers stroked over her hands. "Now listen even more. You've won so much; you are so grateful to the casino for making you feel this way. And that is why from now on you want to help the casino as well."

"Yes," Alina's voice sounded far away.

"You want to make other people as lucky and happy as the casino made you." The bunny's fingers danced up Alina's arms. They felt so nice. Alina leaned into their touch. "That's why you want to be a bunny server." Alina gasped. The server's words sank deep. They echoed in the back of her mind, becoming louder and louder. She wanted to be a bunny server. The thought bounced around her mind like a pinball. "Just imagine how wonderful it would feel, to be a cute bunny server, helping people to have fun and be happy." Alina's imagination conjured an image of herself dressed in a tight bodysuit, serving drinks, flirting with customers. "How wonderful it would be to dress like a bunny, wearing this tight bodysuit that shows off all of your curves." The bunny's fingers slid over Alina's breasts. They felt so big, so soft. "Wouldn't it be lovely to have such big, heavy breasts, that feel wonderful and make people smile and look at you with admiration? Have them on display for everyone?"

"Yes." Alina moaned. It would feel wonderful. The thought of her big breasts bounced in her mind.

"You'd want everyone to look at them." The server's fingers moved to Alina's thighs. They slid along the lacy edge of her stockings, leaving behind a trail of warmth, and goosebumps. "To admire your sexy, stocking-clad legs." The woman's hands ran along her smooth skin. "To desire your plump, beautiful butt." Her fingers squeezed her ass cheeks. "To lust over you, and want to be close to you." The woman's fingers trailed over Alina's crotch, she felt a wetness between her thighs. "To be inside of you."

"Inside," Alina mumbled. Her body got warm, the warmth gathered in her crotch, a tingling sensation filled her.

"You want to be nothing but a release for their desires." The server's voice was so seductive. "You want to make all the guests happy. To bring them relief." Her words sent a shiver down Alina's spine. She felt something inside her stir, an itch. "Serve the casino, and be a sexy, bubbly bunny girl." Her fingers ran over Alina's body, caressing and teasing every inch. "Let the river wash away any thoughts distracting you from your true purpose. You don't need them, they are not who you are. Just leave them behind, forget them."

Alina felt her mind become more empty. She felt her thoughts, her personality, drift away into the dark waters. It was so liberating; a gasp escaped her lips.

"You feel so relaxed now, and you don't need to think about anything but your job. Your purpose is clear. You want to be a bubbly, slutty bunny. You love your job." Her voice sunk into every fiber of Alina's being. Her words echoed, they were all around her. "It makes you so happy to serve. It makes you so happy to serve everyone. To serve as many customers as you can. You feel like you can't help but to serve. Serve every guest, no matter what. And when you serve, you can't help but to flirt. The best part of your job, is that it lets you indulge your slutty, perverted desires. You are a bunny girl, the sexiest, slutty, perverted bunny there is, and it makes you so, so happy to make everyone else happy."

Alina let the words fill her. Her body trembled, a soft moan escaped her lips, she was a bunny, she was a slutty, perverted bunny. The words echoed in her head. It felt right, so right. Her body felt warm, the heat spread to her belly and down between her legs. Her thighs quivered and rubbed together, and her body shuddered in delight.

The server's fingers traced Alina's neck. "You want to show off," her voice was so sweet and soft, it felt like a hug, a warm hug, "to have people leer and grope." She brushed her fingers against the bare flesh above Alina's cleavage. Alina gasped at the sensation, a spark running through her body. "To be seen as a sex object, to be desired and lusted after, it makes you so wet."

The woman's hands moved lower. "It makes you feel good to wear the sluttiest, sexiest, and skimpiest outfit possible. To dress in the tiniest skirt you can find, and the most revealing tops, and the tightest dresses." Alina's nipples grew hard under the server's touch, a soft sigh left her mouth. She wanted it so badly. She wanted to show herself off to everyone, she wanted to dress up for them. She wanted to be a bunny, to please the casino and make all their customers happy. "You want to dress in ways that leaves nothing to the imagination." The bunny server grabbed her wrists. "Now stand up, little bunny. And follow me."

Alina opened her eyes. Her body was sluggish. But she did what the woman told her to. Her head was swimming, she was so horny, and the woman's touch was electric, sending sparks flying up her arm.

"Follow me," the bunny repeated. Her grip on Alina's wrist was strong, and she led the way, taking long, graceful steps that made her hips sway. The fluffy tail swayed in a hypnotic rhythm.

Alina's eyes were glued to her backside. Her mouth fell open. The sway of the woman's ass made the tail bob up and down. The woman's heels clicked against the tiled floor. Her body was so toned and shapely. Alina wanted to be like her.

Alina's steps were clumsy. She stumbled along behind the woman. She was barely able to keep her footing. It felt like walking on cotton balls. But the bunny held onto her. She dragged Alina with her, through the crowd and towards a door at the end of the casino floor. The world seemed to spin, it swirled around her, until Alina's eyes focused on the sign next to a door: "Bunny staff only." Her heart raced and a tingle went up her legs.

The server opened the door and pulled Alina in. Alina gasped in awe. Dozens of bunny girls, all of them dressed in skimpy outfits, hurried about the place. Their heels clattered on the tiles, and they were giggling, talking, laughing. One girl passed them. She carried a tray with empty glasses. Her smile was wide and radiant. Her emerald eyes blank and unfocused. Alina's gaze was drawn to the girl's cleavage. Her eyes widened, her jaw fell. Those round and bouncy breasts. Her gaze drifted over the woman's shapely hips, her slender legs. She was so pretty, her hair so shiny, her lips so full.

The server guided Alina through the changing room, and stopped in front of a changing stall — or something that looked like a highly futuristic version of one. It was a big machine with a transparent plastic chamber that was big enough to fit two or three people comfortably. There was a computer interface on the outside, and inside the machine there were several nozzles and sprayers.

"Oh, you are going to be great. A session for one bunny girl alone. You really hit the jackpot," the bunny said. She pushed Alina inside the machine.

"Thank you." Alina felt warm and fuzzy inside. She had been so lucky today.

"Of course. You won it after all," the bunny winked. "Now, let me enjoy the show." Her fingers danced across the control panel, and the door closed with a soft hiss.

Alina stood in the center of the chamber when a pink fog filled it. Alina blinked, the fog smelled of sweet, fresh strawberries. Her heart fluttered. Her skin prickled, and a tingle ran down her back. A warm breeze brushed against her body. The temperature of the chamber changed to a balmy, humid summer day, the same temperature her body had inside. Her nipples grew hard. A sizzling sound alerted her to her dissolving clothes. Bubbles tickled her skin. She giggled and ran her hands over her body, feeling the material dissolve beneath her fingers.

Alina bit her lip, it felt amazing to watch and feel her clothes vanish like this. Her shirt melted off her chest and dripped down her arms, her skirt turned into pink goop and oozed off her hips, and her panties and bra followed suit, dissolving and melting away. Naked she soaked in the pleasant sensations of the transformation.

Her nipples stood erect and proud. She cupped her breasts in her hands, they felt bigger than ever. Her skin was soft and smooth. She caressed her belly, it was taut and toned. She traced her curves with her hands. A sigh left her mouth.

She ran her hands over her hips. They were wider, and her waist was slimmer, her skin smooth and flawless. Her butt cheeks were firmer, and fuller. They filled her palms nicely. Her fingers traced her thighs. They were long, slender, shapely, toned. Her skin felt so silky and smooth.

Hair that only reached for her shoulders now brushed against her bottom. She lifted it up, it felt heavy and luxurious in her fingers, the golden blonde shimmering and vibrant.

But between all the bliss, a discordant voice grew inside Alina. "This is wrong," it whispered, it was faint and distant, yet Alina caught the protest. Something felt out of place. A thought bubbled up to her consciousness, she wasn't supposed to look like that. Alina's brows furrowed, a cold sensation crawled up her spine. But the warmth of the chamber soothed the doubts, the worries. Her desire to be a bunny swirled and mixed with the nagging. The voice became quiet and vanished into a cloud of arousal. Her pussy throbbed, the thought of being a sexy, hot bunny was so arousing. The idea of being desired and admired made her so wet and needy. Her clit ached. Her fingers slid lower. They traced her labia. The pink fog thickened.

Alina gasped, inhaling a large lungful of sweet strawberry scented air. It made her dizzy with want. She needed to cum so badly. Her fingers slid over her pussy lips, she was dripping. A sigh escaped her. Her eyes closed. Her thighs rubbed together. Her nipples ached to be touched, her skin craved stimulation. She couldn't resist. She massaged her pussy, her juices coated her fingers. Her free hand wandered to her breasts, they felt so sensitive. Her palm rubbed over her nipples, she pinched and tugged them.

Her breathing quickened. She played with herself. And still her proportions inflated and changed. The chamber sprayed more of the sweet perfume over her. Her body was hot and sweaty. Arousal coursed through her veins. Her head was filled with pink mist. She couldn't think of anything but the desire to be a bunny. Her mind felt muddled, drowned in a pink ocean.

Alina's lips curled into a smile; her pussy clenched around her fingers. Her juices ran down her legs; a moan left her mouth; her eyes fluttered open. The world was a blurry pink. Her heart hammered against her ribs; her body ached with need. "I'm a slutty bunny girl." Her words came out breathless, barely audible. She was a perverted slut who wanted to make her customers happy. She loved her job, it made her happy, and horny. She rubbed her thighs together; her hips bucked. She wanted more.

The chamber filled with another mist. It smelled of vanilla, it made her thoughts feel heavy, sluggish, her arousal intensified, a tingling spread from between her legs throughout her body, up to the tips of her hair and the soles of her feet. The world spun, her eyes were unfocused. The chamber was so warm, her skin so sensitive. Her body was on fire. And her mind dripped from her lips — both sets.

Alina needed to cum, her clit ached. She was so close, but her orgasm eluded her, no matter how hard she rubbed, how hard her nipples ached and her pussy clenched. Her fingers slipped inside herself, she couldn't get a hold. The chamber spritzed something cool over her face. It felt refreshing, it smelled like lavender. The need persisted, but now the inability to find release intensified the pleasure. She felt a rush of energy, a surge of ecstasy that washed over her, but still the climax remained just out of reach — and she loved it.

The door to the chamber opened. Alina's head jerked up. She gasped. Cool air hit her sweaty skin, her nipples grew hard as diamonds, and the cold sensation traveled down to her toes. Her clit ached, the orgasm had receded. Her eyes focused on the bunny. The bunny girl's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"You look great. And bunny girl, what do you think about orgasms," she asked with a knowing grin.

"Orgasm," Alina repeated. She tried to think about that word, what it meant. She had to cum so badly, but the word was foreign to her, "What does that mean?" She giggled.

"Good," the bunny said, her voice soft and low. "Orgasms aren't that important, right?"

Alina thought for a moment, then she nodded. "Yeah, not important. I don't need to cum." She let her fingers slide out of her. "Not at all," she giggled. It wasn't that important. There was more important stuff. Like being a bunny.

"Exactly, now come here. Let me dress you up." The bunny reached for her, her hand extended, waiting.

Alina took the woman's hand, she stepped out of the machine on shaky legs. The world spun around her.

"I'm proud of you, you look so hot." The woman led her through the changing room. "And I know just the right outfit to make your customers go wild."

Alina felt warm and fuzzy inside, a shiver ran over her skin. "I can't wait." Her words were barely above a whisper, and yet they seemed to echo in the silence of her mind. Her head felt heavy and full of cotton balls, and her body felt so strange, so foreign, yet so familiar. She couldn't quite remember how she looked before, but she was sure that this body was perfect. As she followed her fellow bunny, her breasts jiggled — their was an artificial nature to every bounce.

She was led into an area that looked more like a high tech lab. There was a table filled with bodysuits, fishnets, high-heels and of course bunny ears. They came in different shades of black, red, and white. Her eyes landed on a bodysuit that shimmered and glistened. It was a sleek black material. She could already sense how tight it would fit her vuloptuos figure, digging into every curve. A tremor ran through her, a warm tingle filled her body. The suit looked perfect. The other woman seemed to notice her interest.

"Yes, this would fit you wonderfully, dear," the bunny said, her voice soft and low, almost a purr.

"I can't wait to put it on," Alina answered. The woman took it from the table and held it out for Alina.

"Slip in. I promise, you will be a completely different person," the woman said with a wink.

Alina took the bodysuit from her. She stepped into it, her heart fluttered in anticipation. The fabric felt so soft, yet clung to her skin as if made for her, stretching to hug every inch of her curves. Slowly she slid on the fishnet stockings and the high-heels. The outfit was perfect, she couldn't wait to serve her customers, to show herself off.

Next came the bunny ears. And as they connected with her scalp — a jolt ran through Bunny Server 69. Her pupils turned to azure crystals, her eyes glazed over, her face relaxed, her mouth fell slightly open. The ears sent a wave of information into her head, the knowledge and instructions she needed to serve, the training and skills to do her job as the best, slutty server.

"Look at you. A perfect bunny," the woman said, she brushed her fingers over the bunny server's cleavage, and her nipples.

"Thank you, sister," cooed 69.

"Now go out there and serve those customers. You have a job to do, don't you?"

"Of course." She smiled and bowed. "Thank you for your service."

"My pleasure," her sister said with a grin.

Bunny Girl 69 left her sister and walked back out into the casino floor, her hips swaying with every step. The smokey atmosphere of the casino filled her lungs, bright happy jingles and laughter greeted her ears. She looked over the room, a few customers sat at a roulette table and cheered, another was playing on a slot machine.

She licked her lips. So many customers to serve. Maybe another one would be lucky as she was.

[1920sladydectective]

Serve or Perish Trying - A Noxian Message

Ambessa Medarda and a lowly servant of a visiting dignitary have some fun....

Kinda oblivious reader gets a lesson in serving lol. This is not proofread, nor will it ever be. Tenses and stuff keep changing but whatever. Thank my wife for this gang.

D/S dynamics, degradation, reader is new to this. Mostly non descript female reader.

Love you, be kind I am rusty! Minors DNI I stg. Cross Posting to AO3

Crimson suited her. It flowed like a damning waterfall from hardened, certain shoulders. 

There was doubt in her gaze, not of herself - never that - but of your usefulness to her. Whatever she wished for, her face told you she had found it. 

She had found you, nestled in a corner of her opulent ballroom awaiting instructions from your Mistress; a Duchess from a neighbouring Kingdom who had been invited to Lady Ambessa Medarda’s birthday ball on account of her fine trading connections. Not that you’d know her speciality in fabrics, considering the filth she kept her servants in. Presentable but ugly and misshapen, meant as a reminder of your station. 

You had been drifting into a daydream, the beauty of Noxian balls harsher and more pressing than other lands. It wrapped you up, threatened to choke you with its splendour. Everything here was a message - everything would surrender to the red and gold might of Noxus one day. 

Horrified, both for your job and then more pressingly your life, you were dragged from ponderings by a firm, calloused hand cupping your chin. Lady Medarda was holding you like trussed up livestock. The red fabric seemed silkier up close, gentle etchings swirled in it, fine gold thread adding a shimmer to her movements. 

Should you speak? Bow? Had you offended her?

“Are you going to make me repeat myself?” Steel cut through your panic, grey eyes bemused.

“I-I’m terribly sorry Lady Medarda,” You blurted, cheeks aflame, “Please accept my-”

“Enough of that,” She snorted, “Tell me your name child,” 

It fell from your lips, mouth staying agape.

Her thumb traced along your lip, “I was unaware I’d been given another present, the gifts are over there dear,” 

A nervous laugh tittered out under her grip, her eyes darkening into charcoal pools. No wonder she was a renowned warlord, even light flirtation was a battlefield with her. Her hand slipped from your face, resting on your hip instead. 

“Who should I give my thanks to for such a delightful offering?”

A pause, your dry mouth swallowed in search of moisture, “Duchess Montgermaine is my Mistress my Lady, I am to serve her wine,” 

A sharp eyebrow raised, “Are my servers not enough?”

“Of course not, my Lady,” You attempted a demure smile, “She just-”

“Is a drunkard,” Lady Medarda snapped bluntly, relishing in the surprised giggle you let out, “Is she not?”

“Well, I couldn’t say,” You bit your lip, the inferno from her gaze fueling you, a hazy spell embracing you under her touch. 

“A secret between friends then, Precious,” 

Her advances were interrupted by the Duchess herself and you feared she may lose her head for it. Medarda turned, face frustrated, as Montgermain began to ramble about their happy trading union. 

“She is yours, I am told,” You are gestured to lazily, bangles jangling, as her words are choked back into her overindulgent throat. 

You had never seen someone interrupt your Mistress, let alone belittle her so. It made your body throb. This seemed to summon the warlord's eyes as if she could sense it on you. 

“Unfortunately yes,” She babbles, glare fixated on you, “Dull girl, you know how hard finding help is Ambessa,” 

“I suppose you won’t mind my taking her then,” She sneers with fake civility, “I am sure I can find a way to use her,” 

Use you. It echoed, red and gold smothering you as you had feared. You were as good as hers now, your naivety at the seriousness of her advances crystal clear. It seemed an extravagant way to gain staff. 

“I’d be happy to oblige you,” the Duchess slurred, “No skin off my nose,”

The interaction ended there for Lady Medarda, it seemed, as she turned and pushed you against one of her guards. They ushered you away down a corridor, her wolf-like grin lingering in your eye as she looked away. 

Heavy doors swung open to reveal a large, smooth bedchamber. It screamed of her, each corner loomed as she did. Flurs covered the bed and an enticing fire showered the room in an orange hue.  You were not unaware of your chances here, should you fail to impress her it was highly likely Lady Medarda would simply kill you. She had killed many more for far less. That felt less like a death sentence and more like a challenge, an otherworldly desire to please overwhelmed you.You would spar if necessary or clean or scribe or bathe her. Whatever it took, you resolved The guards left quickly, leaving you alone. 

Unsure of how long she would be or if she would join you tonight at all, you curled at the foot of the fire. Sitting on a chair felt too presumptive, the bed entirely off limits as hers. 

Time slipped by like sand through a sieve, your eyelids grow heavy as you stayed perched. 

“Undress me,” You were unsure when she appeared and how you’d missed it, a stormy smile yanking you forward. 

Twitching, unsteady hands stroked against her dress, you undid it and pulled it off, careful not to linger too long on any part of her body. 

Fuck. There was no underwear to even attempt to remove. 

“Anything else, My lady?” You muttered, eyes down. Thick hands slammed you down, your knees crashing into harsh marble. The pain had tears forming, eyes darting up in shock. 

Lady Medarda slapped your face lightly, as if disciplining a dog, “Eat,” she commanded, pushing your jaw forward. 

Oh.

Soft, dewy folds rested just above your mouth, your task for her Ladyship suddenly obvious. Your small tongue dashed out, unsure as it lapped against her. A triumphant sigh rattled from her chest, grip encouraging your ministrations. The inferno was back, eating you whole, turning you to dancing embers. Warmth leaked from her onto your lips, wiping your mind into a blissfully clean slate. Each pulse of her core had you licking harder, deeper, fuelled by her certain guidance and your primal bliss. 

You were inexperienced and sloppy, but Ambessa hardly minded. Your emptying eyes and desperate gasps against her cunt were more than enough to close that gap, her head lulling back in pleasure. Her pillowy thighs robbed you of the small gaps of air her clit had allowed, pressure weak but noticeable. Another Noxian message - serve or perish trying. 

This was far from a death sentence, it was salvation.  Like a mutt you rutted mindlessly at her feet, your own leaky ache coating your thighs. 

“Dirty girl,” Ambessa cooed, riding your face more harshly, a smirk on her lips, “Unable to stop yourself,” 

You whined, nose pushing against her clit as you nodded, spluttering in oxygen noisily. She would be your undoing, towering and crushing your sense of self, moulding it for herself. 

Fingers tugged against your locks as Ambessa roughly used your face to find her completion, grunts and bewitching moans sending her higher and further until she crashed against your bruised mouth, her juices flooded onto your surprised face as you lapped and sucked. 

“Strip,” She panted, glittered gaze dominating you as she held out a hand to receive your clothes. 

You did without question, lumpy fabric landed in her grip as you tried to offer yourself as openly as possible. Embarrassment crept through the heady fog. You were slight, not by choice but malnutrition and years of overworking yourself. Ambessa crushed that doubt, throwing your clothes in your flames as she stalked around you. You were perfect, she decided, oh how she loved to break things. 

“No need for those, they hide you away,” She purred, toying with your upper thighs, hovering just below where you begged for her, “Have you ever been touched here little one?” 

“No, My Lady,” You moaned out, “I-Uh just you,”

She let out a laugh, making butterflies dance in your chest, “I haven’t even done it myself yet, Dear,” 

“Please?” You find yourself whimpering, “I’ll do whatever you like,” 

“Oh will you now,” Her tone mocked you, sympathetic pout on her mouth as she gripped your hips and you flung across the air into her bed. The furs soothed your sore legs, her scent permeated them. Your knees fell open, pleading for her to use your molten core. 

Use she did, regardless of your comforts and desires. Two fingers pushed into you, you stuttered and slurred as your body adjusted. Ambessa was not patient, overactive from too many idiots at once and your artful, whorish tongue, she ploughed into you against your pained whines. Soon pain gave way to a sticky, addictive ecstasy. She saw the change, empty eyes suddenly clouding over, loud keening moans ripping from our throat. 

“My, very loud without a cunt against your mouth, Pet,” Ambessa’s hypnotic snarl had you nodding nonsensically, chasing a high you didn’t understand. Just as you thought you would tumble helplessly off a cliff it all stopped. The engine died. Her fingers stilled. 

“Why did you stop?” You croak, outraged, grabbing at her wrist. 

Ambessa growled, fear spiking your heart as harshly as pleasure had. A free hand leisurely planted a slap against your burning cheek, lips falling open in shock. Not at the violence, but the joy it flared in you. The same hand slapped your suddenly empty hole, narrowed eyes following the trail of drool leaking from your useless mouth. 

“You don’t do anything without my permission, Foolish girl,” Ambessa flipped you as easily as a book page, rubbing against your ass absentmindedly, “Do you think ten will suffice?”

“What?” Your lips could barely move.

Her eyes rolled, “Fifteen then, do be sure to count them,” 

Her hand came swiftly slamming down. 

One

“Aloud,” Her teeth bit your ear.

Fuck

It was almost as if you had never been taught numbers, each one fighting its way out as your ass joined the list of things sore and overused on your body. Ambessa seemed detached, calm as though she was merely discussing the weather. At fifteen your face was crushed against her thighs, taking in her skin and huffing in the sex stained air as much as you could.

From this new position those blissful, brutal fingers thrust back in at an inhumane rhythm, your battered mind finally following the flow of commands. If you wished for more, you begged and even then if she did not wish it, it would not be so. You were dangling over that cliff again, love drunk on Ambessa as her siren song sang you over the edge. It felt like ascension, your soul left your body, your scream desperate. Gushing liquid and tinges of red mingled on her powerful fingers. Noxian in your own way then, you giggled to yourself, head rolling against her legs. Lady Medarda revelled in it, her fingers licked clean by her own indulgent tongue. 

You seemed to float there for a while, murderous sweet nothings indecipherably fell from your Lady’s lips as she cleaned you. 

“A fabulous start,” She grinned, caressing your cheek, “I think you’re ready now,” 

Rolling you onto her furs, she stood and opened a small wooden cupboard to the right of her bed. What she removed you could barely process, a long dark rod attached to leather straps that fit snugly on her hips. She had never seemed stronger, force and control things she owned and tamed rather than possessed as your legs were spread. Now lying on your back, tickled by the bedding, you could fully appreciate her breasts. Weighty and glistening, they called to you like a swinging pocket watch, enticing you with every movement. This distraction allowed Ambessa to toy with your stretched hole, her strap-on lightly stimulating your twitching folds. Leaning down, her own hand met your sorely neglected breast as she squeezed the supple flesh. Pinching a nipple between her nails, she twisted till you’d soaked your thighs, coating the strap-on as she wished. 

“Good girl,” She tugged you down, strap moving in an inch or two.

A wanton mewl slipped from your lips, grinding against it for more friction. She only punished you slightly, sharp nails scratching at your clit. The warlord attempted to be patient, coaxing the length in as kindly as possible. Your rolling eyes and sharp inhales were making it troublesome, her restraint slipping as she thrust into you fully. You squealed, glassy eyes wide as she bottomed out, pussy gushing slightly. Her fingers had prepared you for any major stretching, so the pain was fainter than you’d anticipated. Once Ambessa realised this her restraint slipped entirely, merciless hips destroying you as she stared into your very soul. 

“I thought you’d squirm less, Pet,” Venom dripped into your ear, your body twitching and rutting to meet her pace, “I do hope it's not too much,” 

“More,” You grunted, desperate, “Use me like a whore,” You had no idea where that came from, but it felt right somehow, your thoughts dripping in the lustful debauchery she had introduced.

“Don’t worry, your Mistress knows just how to treat you,” She said firmly, pace speeding up as a dark chuckle left her lips, this was a pleasant exercise, her muscles flexing as her strap soiled your sloppy cunt. 

“Mistress,” You slurred back happily, the word soothing you. You were getting close again, blood thrumming in your ears, black spots dancing across your vacant eyes, shameless begging filling the room. 

It was music to Ambessa’s ears, wet slaps of skin against skin as you whimpered and shrieked for her, your body moulded to serve. You had come so far from the little Wallflower she had teased hours ago, and you would stay like this, a sex-crazed slut worshipping at her feet. Feeling her own climax edging closer, she slurred filth into your malleable mind, both of you breathless and dripping with slick. She stole your orgasm from you as she conquered everything else, with ruthlessness and obsession. You were babbling, preening as you leaked over the furs, relishing in her juices dripping down onto you. 

In a fluid motion she pulled out and sank down, lapping up your mess as you giggled helplessly. Her tongue was far superior to your own, coaxing another sticky flood as your mind snapped like a weak twig. No thoughts, no noise, no understanding. Only pleasure. Always pleasure. 

Ambessa surveyed your blissed out, nonresponsive form as she cleaned herself and the strap-on off, placing it back in its box. A warm hand towel was fetched, as she stroked up and down your shining skin, slowly grounding you with sweet nothings and alluring kisses. You couldn’t quite understand her, but love and safety blossomed in your chest. Lady Medarda had chosen you and you had pleased her. Succumbing was good. Was right. 

“Thank you,” Your weak voice said, kissing against her palm. 

“You’re welcome, my darling,” A kiss to your forehead, “Rest now, sink into me,”

You were pulled onto her chest, pillowy breasts and warm covers plunging you into a dreamless, glorious sleep.

You loved Noxus. 

[sunnysana]

hi i was wondering if you could do a geonwoo from bloodhounds x reader? maybe they’re on a date and he gets protective over the reader?

Gunwoo × Reader / when he gets protective

A/N: Hiii, thank you so much for the request. I love the idea and I hope you enjoy! I hope it reaches your expectations.

Warning(s): None? (Not proofread, lmk if anything sounds odd!)

The air was chilly outside in the evening. However, the atmosphere is cozy. Just holding his warm hands made your day a tad bit better.

Small clouds of warm breath fill the air as you walk towards your favorite Korean barbecue spot at a steady pace.

He'd often take you there as he formerly worked there and liked to show off his skills cooking the meat. Anything to impress you.

Actually, it's the place where you went on a first date together when he finally had the guts to ask you. Which you ofcourse immediately accepted as you had hoped for this day to come.

Now you're going back there. You're almost regulars at this rate. It's become a repeating occurrence.

It's his favorite place to go, and hotpot his favorite food... well, short after ribeye steak, but that's too expensive. Though once in a while, you liked to suprise him with it.

"I can't wait any longer. I'm starving," he said, his hand slightly squeezing yours in excitement. He had a lot of boxing training today with his best friend Woojin and now had a great appetite cause of it. "Me too, you must be after training so much you better eat well," a chuckle leaves quickly after.

The light of the familiar sign of the restaurant gives a warm color to your faces as you stand at the entrance of the place. "Good thing we're here cause I'm not waiting any longer" he rushed in playfully, not wanting to wait any longer, giving you no time to think. "Hey Gunwoo, wait for me!".

Moments later, you're both seated and all set on the soft plush sofa you know all too well. And the smell of hot beef. Which he cooked like a pro.

not too long and not too short. Perfect.

Like always, he'd feed the first piece to you with a soft smile plastered onto his face. "Open up, I made it just how you like it" he extended the piece of meat between his metal chopsticks after blowing on it to cool off.

He wouldn't want you to have to do any of the work like the gentleman he is.

"Mhm, it's perfect." You chew on the perfectly cooked meat which makes his cheeks tint a light color of pink, though he'd deny it if mentioned. Though perfection is what you'd expect of someone who had worked there as well.

After a while of enjoying the fun date together getting taken care of by your boyfriend Gunwoo, you decided to head for a bathroom break.

You stand up, getting out of the plush seating and give him a quick teasing peck on the cheek. "I'll be back in a moment, wait for me" with a chuckle you head there.

Gunwoo is really the best, you think. He always makes sure to treat me like a princess and take care of me. It's adorable, really. Even Woojin liked to tease him for it.

You reach the door and do your thing. When stepping back out into the main dining area, an unknown guy stops you as you're a few meters away from you and Gunwoo's table.

Must be a new server. You don't recognize him, though he must be a new server as he's wearing the uniform.

He gave a short greating as I akwardly returned the same. Taking a small glance at the name card, it said Yoon Sihun. "Hello, I've heard you're a regular here by my colleagues, you can call me Sihun".

"Yeah, you could say so" I said politely, though trying to get back to Gunwoo quickly". "You're pretty, you know I'd love to take you out sometime".

That didn't go unnoticed. Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around your shoulder protectively. "Let's go back to our table, shall we?" He remained composed though giving a certain look towards the waiter. And then quickly took you back to our table at a semi rushed pace.

He's just like a golden retriever.

You both sit back down at the table, though this time you're next to him. "What was that guy all about..." he tries not to show it but sulks a little. "Are you pouting?" A small chuckle of endearment leaves your mouth. He huffs softly.

He would've been fine if it was just a compliment. He wants you to know how amazing you are. Though asking you out was too much. No way he'd let someone take you away from him. Your his. And he's planning to keep it like that. You're his special girl.

"You know I'm only for you, don't worry, hm?" You playfully poke his cheek, which makes him soften up. Though you always manage to without much effort. He's just a big softie on the inside after all.

Luckily, the date wasn't ruined by that. Though Gunwoo would just have to keep an eye on that new guy the next time. You'll just make it up by giving him extra cuddles tonight.

Just what he loves.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/N:

Hi, I hope you all enjoyed it! Sorry if it's a little short. Feel free to request again if you'd like I'd love to write again for you!

Also, a tag for another person who asked if I could write for Gunwoo:

@vampyyjules