#you're allowed to dream of more than this in fact you MUST

[raven-dor]

you're my savior

in which anthony bridgerton’s childhood best friend is desperately in love with him…

PAIRING: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, platonic!bridgertons x reader

WARNINGS: given last name (Kinsley), typical sexism of the era, PINING, avoiding the inevitable, oblivious Anthony, angst, fluff, kissing, fluff ending!!

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

🎶 : sailor song - gigi perez

AN: 🩵♥️💗 - this is a personal fav of mine!! it's also a long one, so have fun!!

Dearest reader, the time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season. Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless mama. Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton. A shockingly prolific family noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters.

Your father extended his hand, guiding you out of the carriage. You smiled gratefully, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Papa."

"Of course, my darling."

Your mother hooked her arm through his, eyes full of adoration. "Shall we head inside, mon cheri?"

"Lead the way, my love."

The castle was magnificent as always, with flowers draped on every surface, and ushers waiting behind every door. Your father led you through to the main hall, his voice carrying as he greeted the young lord. "Viscount Bridgerton!"

"Lord Kinsley.” Anthony showed no sign of embarrassment or disdain for your father’s enthusiasm; in fact, he welcomed it. “I cannot recall how many times I have asked you to call me Anthony."

"As you wish." The older man laughed. "My lord."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your father. Your mother apologized to Anthony, hugging him as tightly as she hugged you. "It is his nature, to tease you.” She stepped back, holding his hands in hers. “And how are you?”

“Well, my lady.” He smiled, practically begging to be saved when his eyes met yours. “Very well.” 

You hid your laughter behind your hand, shaking your head in disapproval. "My lord." Your mother moved aside, allowing you to greet your lifelong friend.

“So formal today, Miss Kinsley.”

"You know very well I cannot smack you in front of the Queen.” You whispered. “Must you tease me so?”

The Viscount laughed, hooking his arm through yours. “Those poor Featherington girls.”

You frowned, watching as Penelope, Prudence, and Phillipa were practically marched towards the Queen. You held back a gasp as Prudence fainted in front of the Queen, the room erupting into chaos. Leaning over, you whispered in Anthony’s ear. “I assume Lady Featherington is hoping this is all a dream.” 

Anthony laughed. "I imagine this is her nightmare."

"Miss Daphne Bridgerton, presented by her mother, the Right Honorable, Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton." The doors opened slowly, Daphne almost gliding through them.

"She looks beautiful." You leaned into Anthony’s side, smiling brightly. "Don't you think?"

He looked down, his heart skipping. You looked radiant, the pale blue dress brought out your features wonderfully. It did not go unnoticed by him that you were wearing his family's colors, something he found pride in for some odd reason. “Yes. Yes, she does.” 

She bowed deeply, the entire room holding their breaths as the Queen stood, placing her finger beneath Daphne's chin. "Flawless, my dear." 

You grinned, squeezing Anthony's arm tighter. He winced, hissing from the pain. "Christ. You are more excited for my dear sister than I am."

You lay haphazardly on Daphne’s bed, smiling as you watched the Bridgeton women gossip around you. Moments like this made you long for siblings, for some sort of companion. You supposed the Bridgertons filled that longing by making you a part of their antics - whether you wanted to or not. 

You had known Anthony since you were a mere two years of age, meeting the young boy when your family had moved in those many years ago. You’d been there when each of the Bridgerton children was brought into this world, you’d been there when Edmund died, you’d been there when Anthony became the lord of their family, and you had been there with your mother when Lady Bridgerton gave birth to Hyacinth. 

"You absolutely sparkled, sister."

Daphne was the very picture of grace, brushing off her sister’s kind words. "Come now. I merely simpered and minced in a pretty dress like everyone else.” 

You scoffed. “Not exactly like everyone else, you were perfection itself."

Eloise sighed. "Oh, I shall need to go and visit with Penelope. Her presentation was anything but... what was it the Queen called you again?"

Daphne blushed, slipping into her dress. "Flawless. Or some such thing. Trust, I was astonished Her Majesty offered me, out of two hundred young ladies present, a most gracious remark."

"Yes, it was quite a distinction. And now, 200 young ladies have a common adversary. I wish you luck, sister."

"Eloise!" Daphne gasped. 

Eloise did not look shocked by her sister’s outburst, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was trying to rile her sister into a frenzy. “What? It is true.” 

“My success on the marriage mart influences all of your prospects. We will all need to find love one day. Indeed, a love as pure as what Mama and Papa once shared, if we are so fortunate. I merely hope I am able to continue such a grand tradition.”

Violet burst through the door, the maids trailing behind her, each carrying at least three boxes. “Your dresses have arrived.” The rest of the girls followed after Daphne, who had practically raced toward the new arrivals. 

Eloise stayed in her chair, staring at you curiously. “Surely you agree with me?”

“Eloise.” You gave her a pointed look. “Why must you tease your sister so?” 

“It is all in good fun,” Eloise grumbled, crossing her arms. 

You sighed, slipping off the bed, holding your hand out to the younger girl. "You know I wholeheartedly agree. The marriage market is no honorable arena. It is a bloodbath indeed."

Eloise laughed, putting her hand in yours. "I wish I were like you."

"How so?” You tilted your head. 

“You can flout about undetected, without fear of your mama forcing you to attend fitting after fitting.” 

You laughed, nudging her arm. “If it is any consolation, I wish I were you.” You walked through the doorway, gazing at the dozens of dresses laid out for Daphne to peruse at her pleasure. 

"Why would you want to be like me?" Eloise smirked, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. "To be young? I didn't take you to be so vain, Kinsley."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You know what I meant." You looked out at the room full of Bridgertons, watching with a concealed envy you hardly ever let show. "That, that is what I meant." 

Eloise squeezed your hand. "You do have that. We are family, you and I." 

"Yes, well..." You shoved Eloise towards the dresses, laughing at her disgusted face. "Enough chatter. Try one of these exquisite gowns on. I demand it." 

Eloise glared, sticking her tongue out as she grabbed the latest gossip column. "Mary Edgecombe, now the Countess of Fulton, apparently spent the last year living in a cottage hundreds of miles away from her Earl. It says it all right here."

Violet sighed. "Do not tell me it is yet another scandal sheet. Eloise-"

"No, no. This one is different. This one lists subjects by name, in full."

Hyacinth jumped. "Let me see!"

"Just wait-"

Francesca stared at the paper. "Lady Whistledown?"

"Do we know a Lady Whistledown?"

"Surely, Lady Whistledown cannot be her true name." Daphne glanced at the scandal sheet.

"What does it say, dearest?"

"She loathes the fact that we've been named alphabetically, oldest to youngest."

"Your father and I found it orderly."

"Lady Whistledown finds banality."

You rolled your eyes. "Lady Whistledown sounds like a bored old hag."

Violet gave you a disappointed look, raising a single eyebrow. "I may not be your mother, but I am sure she does not allow you to use that kind of language."

You instantly cowered under her gaze, smiling guiltily. "Yes, Violet."

"The papers were distributed around town today without charge."

"Without charge? What kind of author-" Violet gasped, holding Daphne's hand. "Well, at least she has one thing right. She has named Daphne this season's Incomparable. She calls you a diamond of the first water.” The older woman sighed, smiling to herself. “Well, how lovely."

You clapped your hands, grabbing the attention of the room. “I'm afraid I must be off. My mother will be wondering where I am."

Daphne smiled. "Will you be at the ball tonight?"

"Of course I will, Daph."

You waved goodbye once more before traipsing down the stairs towards Anthony’s study.

You watched as he worked or tried to, at least. He kept staring at his father’s pocket watch, distracting himself from his duties. And you kept getting distracted by how perfect he looked in the midday light. Ridding yourself of those outlandish thoughts, you pushed the door the rest of the way open, leaning against its frame. "Waiting for someone, my lord?"

"It’s you." He glared playfully. "Please, come in."

"You seem to be in a mood." You stood in front of his desk, wiggling your eyebrows. “Is dear Sienna denying your visits?"

“When I tell you things in confidence, that does not mean you may bring them up every waking moment.” 

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "I think that is exactly what that means, my dear Anthony. Friends tease; it is in their nature."

His eyes were heavy, as if he found offense with your statement. Still, he said nothing of it, leaning forward in his chair. “Shall you be in attendance at the Danbury Ball as well?”

“I would not miss it. Even if I wished not to attend, you know as well as I that my mother would require it. She is determined to find me a husband by the end of this season.”

Anthony looked unempathetic, feigning pity. “What a horrible life to lead. I seem to recall more than one man proposing to you over the years.”

You crossed your arms. “And what a horrible friend you are. You know very well I would wait centuries if that meant finding a love half as fulfilling as my mother and father’s. You do not seem to understand how horrible these men, your peers, truly are. If I had told Benedict, he would have at least tried to-”

“Well, I am not Benedict.” His tone was harsh, all inclinations of humor leaving his face as he sat back, his gaze returning to his paperwork. “Save me a dance.”

You nodded, wishing you could stay just a moment longer. “It is humorous.”

He looked up, taking the bait you had laid. “What is?” 

“That you believed I had not already done so.” You smiled, leaning across the desk and kissing his cheek. “Don’t be late.” 

The Danbury ball, as it had been every year before, was the very picture of elegance, the ultimate beginning to your seventh season on the market. Your dress was pale pink, practically white, with draping fabric that billowed when you walked. Your mother had chosen it herself, stating that if this gown did not attract suitors, she had no idea what would.

You smiled at Daphne, leaning over to your mother, who was locked in some conversation with a lord whose name you didn’t care to learn. “The Bridgertons are calling me over, Mama. Excuse me.” You hadn’t bothered to wait for permission, skirting across the room as you expertly avoided eye contact with any eager young lord in need of a wife. 

Anthony smirked, shaking his head at your antics. “Ms. Kinsley.”

“Lord Bridgerton.” You curtsied. “Lady Bridgerton.” 

Violet smiled. “Are you enjoying the ball, dear?” 

You nodded. “It is quite exquisite.” Looking over at the newly debuted girl, you forced yourself not to laugh at her overwhelmed expression, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Relax your shoulders, Daph. You look as if you forgot how to breathe.” Daphne smiled gratefully, releasing the tension she hadn't even realized she was holding. “It is not so bad, the balls and picnics.” You hooked your arm through Anthony's as if it was second nature, muttering under your breath. "Unless you get stuck with some boring lord like-"

"Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton." Ambrose sighed, smiling faintly. "Lord Bridgerton."

"Are you not forgetting someone?" Anthony’s voice was harsh, clipped as he gestured toward you. Ambrose nodded, extending the courtesy of a quick smile. 

"Miss Kinsley."

Violet smiled. "I believe you have already met my daughter, Daphne, Lord Ambrose."

He nodded. "Yes! We met at your brother's levee."

"If I recall, my lord, you had just won your first race at Newmarket."

Anthony smiled condescendingly at the lord in front of him. "His first and only, I believe."

"Well..." Daphne looked back at the visibly embarrassed lord. "In that case, let us hope your lordship has found yourself a new horse."

"I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you at our club lately, Ambrose. Should it have anything to do with the unpaid balance you left on our betting books winter last?"

Ambrose practically gulped, walking away without another word, leaving Daphne and Violet standing in uncomfortable silence. Anthony turned to his mother and sister, that terrible all all-knowing look on his face. "Ambrose is a cheat."

“I did not realize.”

"Well, how could you have done? It's the very reason I am here, sister. Now, let us take a turn about the room."

You felt as if this was a conversation best left to family. While you had grown up together, this was not your place. You began to slip your arm out of Anthony’s, whispering. "I should get back to my mother-"

"Do you really want to be stuck in a meaningless conversation with a boring lord?" Anthony scoffed, pulling you closer to him, closer than what many of the ton deemed proper. You choked on your breath, heart stopping at the gesture. "I am saving you from a night of misery."

You rolled your eyes, Anthony quickly reminding you of his arrogance. "How charitable of you."

Daphne interrupted, pointing towards a blond man dancing. "He is rather pleasing."

"He is here to shuffle about hunting fortunes. Trust Mr. Lewis knows of your sizable dowry. Leave him be." 

She frowned, pointing towards another man. "I presume you know him too?"

"Mr. Worthington. Second son. We shall find better."

You nudged Anthony’s side, signalling that he should ease up on the girl. “Anthony, you are going to scare her.” 

“I am merely warning her about the-”

"Anthony, Daph, Miss Kinsley!" Benedict waved from across the room, pushing his way across. You grinned, wiggling your arm out of Anthony's hold to greet him. 

It was not missed by Lady Bridgerton or Daphne how Anthony’s face fell from the loss. 

“Benedict! How are you?”

He brought your right hand up to his lips, kissing the back gently. "Better now that you are here."

You laughed, smacking him lightly with your fan. “You flatter me.”

Anthony glared at Benedict, shaking his head. “Benedict, do not flirt with our dear friend.”

“Why not?”

"Because I said so, that is-"

Colin interrupted. "Did mother tell you yet? About my tour? I'm to begin in Greece."

"Greece, how adventurous, Colin."

You grinned. "Greece is wonderful this time of year; you will have a wonderful time, I'm sure."

Anthony's eyes practically fell out of their sockets, grabbing your hand and making a run for it. “On guard!”

Lady Danbury approached, laughing. “Too late. I already noted you.” She turned to Daphne, smiling. “Miss Bridgerton, you look rather lovely this evening. Is there a reason I've yet to see you on the dance floor?”

Anthony jumped in. "All in good time, Lady Danbury."

The older woman glared at Anthony, leaning towards Daphne. "You poor thing."

You laughed, agreeing with the lady wholeheartedly. "I thank the lord every day I do not have an older brother."

Benedict nudged you, faux frowning. "If only I had been born one year earlier."

"And from different parents." You shook your head, laughing. "The sentiment is there." You turned to Anthony, who was still staring down every eligible young man in the room who had their sights set on his sister. “I believe I saved you a dance.”

“Do not think you can save Daphne by distracting me.”

You raised an eyebrow, an easy sort of smile gracing your lips. “Do I distract you so easily, Lord Bridgerton?” 

His cheeks flushed, and he rolled his eyes. “Come along then.” Still holding your hand from when he tried to escape Lady Danbury, he led you through the crowd, stopping at the center of the dance floor.

A simple waltz rang through the room, the kind that even children knew. Anthony lowered his lips to your ear, shivers running down your spine as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in. "We have not danced in quite some time."

You whispered, not trusting your voice to remain stable. “The last time you asked me to dance, I believe we were in your study." Your smile fell slightly at the thought of him erasing the memory from his mind. "Remember?"

His gaze softened, his fingers pressing into your waist as he pulled you even closer, closer than one should be for a waltz. "How could I forget?"

"It was a rather odd waltz." You retorted, desperate to break the tension. "There was no music after all."

He laughed, a look gracing his face you hadn’t seen in some time, since before his father’s passing. Peace, pure, unadultered peace, perhaps with a sprinkle of mischief. "Such a difficult woman to please." 

"I am not." You glared at him, hating the way he made you feel, the way your stomach twisted when he looked at you the way he often did. "Anthony-"

"You are not a hard woman to please?" His smirk grew into a boyish grin. "What an inappropriate thing to-"

“Do not finish that sentence, Anthony Bridgerton.” You scoffed. “What happened to being a gentleman?” The conductor bowed, the waltz ending what seemed out of nowhere. Or perhaps, you would later tell yourself, it was because you got lost in Anthony Bridgerton’s eyes for the umpteenth time. You curtsied, walking away from the Viscount with your nose in the air. 

He chased after you, walking a mere step behind you. "I forget what being a gentleman is when I am around you." You knew he was jesting, but the way he had said it caused your stomach to twist and your cheeks to grow hot. 

"Please." You pulled your fan out, desperate to save face. "Save your theatrics for Sienna."

"You bring up Sienna quite often." He practically jumped in front of you, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Are you perhaps jealous?"

You scoffed, grabbing a glass of champagne from the table beside you, taking a large sip. "You are the most indignant man I have ever had the displeasure of-" Your eyes drifted over his shoulder, squinting. "Is that Basset?"

"Basset?" Anthony whipped around, grinning at the sight of his best friend. "Basset!"

"Bridgerton!" The Duke smiled kindly at you, bowing. "Miss Kinsley."

"Simon, it’s wonderful to see you."

"Old friend. I heard news of your father.” Anthony had a look of astonishment on his face. “Deuce, take it, you are no longer Basset."

"I shall always-"

"Hastings! The Duke of Hastings, now known for evermore."

Daphne tilted her head. "The Duke of Hastings, is it?"

You jumped. Daphne had shown up out of nowhere. Anthony nodded. "Right, Hastings, this is my sister."

"Your sister?"

"Daphne, Hastings, and I know each other from our days at Oxford, days we shall not soon forget."

"Yes. As I am well aware of the company you keep, brother, I am certain your days with His Grace were most civilized indeed."

You coughed, trying to cover up a laugh that had unfortunately spilled from your lips.

"Hastings, we shall need to get together properly. I expect to see you at our club then."

Simon nodded. "Indeed. Evening Bridgerton. Miss Bridgerton. Miss Kinsley."

Every week since your two families, the Bridgerton’s and the Kinsley’s, had come to know each other, you had had dinner.

This week was no exception, walking behind your parents as the butler escorted you to the dining room. Your father hugged Violet quickly, running after the youngest Bridgertons, who had been trying to attack him while he’d been distracted. 

Your mother laughed, shaking her head affectionately. "I believe my husband will never mature, Violet."

"I believe you would be right, Elisabeth." Violet sighed, her eyes drifting from her typically light-hearted nature to one of melancholy. "Shall we take our seats?"

Ever since his father’s death, Anthony had taken his seat, and for just as long, you had been sitting on his right. It was fitting, your mother would say when you whined. ‘You will marry, I know it.’ That is when you would scoff, shaking your head.

Now, you secretly wish your mother were correct. 

“For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury of all places."

Benedict rolled his eyes at his brother. "And what should be so terrible about Bloomsbury? That the people there actually work for a living?"

"She does seem to be someone with access."

"Who knows if Whistledown is even a she?"

Anthony nodded, taking a bite of his dinner. "Good point."

You scoffed, leaning forward in your chair. "You all are forgetting one crucial detail."

Anthony raised an eyebrow, waiting for your apparent revelation. "And what is that?"

You smirked, teasingly pointing at him with your fork. "Men do not possess the capacity to remember such details."

Eloise nodded vigorously. "Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?"

Anthony sighed. "I must say, you are not a good influence on my sisters."

"Well, I think it is rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury."

"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly. She would never bother herself writing them all down."

Hyacinth spoke up. "Could it be Lady Featherington?"

The table fell into thunderous laughter. "No!"

"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featherington's, little sister." Eloise pointed out.

Hyacinth sat back, frowning. "I was just trying to help."

"And you were doing wonderfully, Hyacinth." You smiled warmly. "It is not your fault that you are normal and uneducated on such trivial nonsense, unlike Eloise." The girl rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "Some say your sister is obsessed."

"I am not obsessed. Simply curious." She said as she stabbed a potato rather harshly.

"I'm only teasing, Eloise. I am equally curious as to who the author is. Wouldn’t it be spectacular if it were-" 

"Hastings! I am most excited that you decided to join us this evening. It was most spontaneous of you."

You glared, muttering under your breath. “I was not finished.” Anthony paid you no heed, staring at his friend with a curious look in his eye. 

"Not at all. With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf, well. However, could I have declined?"

You laughed, covering your mouth with your wine glass, whispering. "What a matchmaker your mother is."

Anthony scowled. "Do not remind me."

You once again found yourself peeking through the cracked door of Anthony’s study. You smiled to yourself as his face came into view, admiring him from afar. He was quite handsome, with his terribly witty look, his dark features, and his kind eyes. You stepped closer, about to enter the study, when Lady Bridgerton’s voice cut through the silence.

"I was under the impression that the two of you are good friends."

"We are good friends. That is why I know that he is certain of never getting married."

Violet sighed. "Well, you must understand that all men make that assertion. Your father-"

Anthony snapped, looking up from his ledgers. "Do not bring Father into this. Even if he were in want of a wife, you would most certainly not have the duke anywhere near Daphne."

"I am fully subscribed to the belief that reformed rakes make the very best of husbands."

"He will not make her happy! Daphne deserves better. And I know that you think you are solving the problem, but you are not. That is all I shall say about the matter."

"The duke will be joining us as our guest at Vauxhall tomorrow evening. Now, I admit, it was not easy to convince him to come-"

"You overstep."

"She is my eldest daughter."

"Yet she is my responsibility, as are you."

Violet scoffed. "Responsibility?"

"Do not make this any more difficult than it already is."

Violet continued. "I wish to know something, Anthony. Tonight, when you leave this study that you continue to keep at your family home, are you to return to your bachelor lodgings across the square, or will you pay a visit to a certain soprano that you tend to in an apartment that you pay for on the other side of town?" 

You gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. 

"You like to speak of responsibility. My dear son! Of duty? Pray, tell, what should you know of it? You must ask yourself, are you merely an older brother, or are you the man of this house?"

Violet stormed out of the study, and you tried your best to look as if you’d just happened upon the hallway, that you had not, in fact, been eavesdropping the entirety of their conversation. Anthony’s face was in his hands as you entered. 

"Mother, please leave me-"

"Anthony." You frowned, shutting the door gently behind you. "Are you quite alright?" He shrugged, finding it difficult to form words. You walked behind the desk, sitting directly in front of him. “Do not become cross with me.”

"Why would I be cross at you?" He tilted his head.

You reached out, holding his hands gently in yours. Your thumb caressed the back of his palm, your eyes trailing up from your joined hands to his eyes. "Anthony..."

"Not you, too." He sounded properly exhausted, simply dropping your hold as he walked toward the fire. That was somehow worse than him ripping his hands out of yours.  

You followed after him, crossing your arms. “I am merely saying that your mother has a point. You are a great Viscount, but you could-”

"I'm not my father."

You felt as if the very air you breathed had been pulled from your lungs. Your voice was soft as you spoke. "I know that."

“Then why does she keep insisting that I be-"

"I know that it feels as if she is putting the weight of the world on your shoulders, but she is trying to help you." You could not fight the urge to hold him any longer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you.” You whispered, heart skipping. “As do I.” 

He turned around, pulling your hand from his shoulder and holding it in his. “Promise me something.”

You decided to humor him, nodding. "Anything."

"Do not ever leave me." His eyes held a longing, a want for everything to remain the same. You pitied him. Eventually, you would marry, and now that you had accepted that you and Anthony were never to be, that would mean you would cease to see him.

"I will try my best."

He shook his head and pulled you closer, your breaths intermingling as his eyes darted to your lips every so often. You so longed to jump up, to pull his lips to yours. “I do not know what I would do if I lost you.”

“Anthony, please.” You put a hand on his cheek, smiling as he leaned into your touch. “You would be fine-”

"I do not believe I would." He leaned down, your breath hitching as he laid his forehead against yours. "In fact, I know I would not."

You laughed, falling into the trap of domestic bliss. "Anthony, I will marry eventually. You and I will no longer see each other." 

He scoffed. "Pray tell, what possessed you to ruin my dream? Humor me." 

"Dream?” You raised your eyebrow, smiling giddily. “What dream is that?" His finger pressed against your lips, and you stopped, thanking the lord for the dim lighting the room provided. Hopefully, he could not see how wide your pupils were, your shallow breaths, your burning cheeks.

“It will not happen.” 

You raised your eyebrow once more, this time in offense. “Am I that difficult on the eye?” 

He laughed. “Do not fish for compliments. You know you are exquisite.” You sighed, stepping back. It all became too much, this complimenting, his dream, him. He tightened his hold on your hands, eyebrows furrowing. “Where are you off to?” 

“I should be going, Anthony. It is late-” 

“You always stay this late.” He frowned. “Is something-” 

“Dearest!” Your mother’s voice rang through the house, and your eyes widened, pulling away from the Viscount. “Dearest, we are leaving!” 

You would later thank your mother for her help. Curtsying quickly, you darted out of the study, racing down the steps. “Goodbye, my lord.” 

You hadn’t intended on seeing him here, of all places. You were surprised, in truth, that Anthony still frequented the library. It was gorgeous, and even though you were no student, the librarian still allowed you to frequent the aisles from time to time. You could be found here in truth, just sitting, enjoying the silence. The solitude. 

When you saw his ever familiar frame and you jumped, hiding behind an endcap in the hopes he’d missed you. You groaned when he’d called out your name, squeezing your eyes shut. He whispered your name again, and you took a deep breath, stepping out to face the man you’d been avoiding. 

“Lord Bridgerton, how wonderful to see you.” 

“I would say the same-” He took his hat off, smirking. “But it seems you have been avoiding me as of late.” 

“I do not know what you mean.” You scoffed, walking past him, desperate to escape. “If you’ll excuse me-” 

“Why?” He asked, following after you. “You have not been attending our dinners.” 

“I haven’t been feeling well.” 

“Oh?” He frowned, stepping in front of you. Reaching up, he placed the back of his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. Your eyes widened, and you stepped around him. He squinted, watching you with interest. “You seem well.”

“I am.” You nodded. “I am now.” He kept looking at you, kept trying to understand you. “Can you stop staring at me?” Your cheeks felt hot. “It is unbecoming.” 

“I have missed you.” He whispered. “May I call on you?” 

You scoffed. “Call on me? Anthony, you have been in my home more times than I care to count. You do not need to call on me.” 

“I know.” His hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “I will see you tomorrow, then?” 

“Anthony…” Your eyes trailed down to his hand, which was still holding your wrist. “I’m afraid I have the time reserved.” 

“Reserved?” He tilted his head, voice becoming hostile. “Reserved for what?” 

“For whom.” You corrected, hating that this conversation was occurring, in public, no less. “It is for Lord Goring.” 

“Lord Goring?” Anthony yelled, drawing the attention of the many students strewn throughout the hall. “Lord Goring? That man is twice your age-”

“His wife recently died, and he is kind.” You hissed. “We are going on a promenade.” Anthony stood before you, fuming silently. You frowned, curtsying quickly. “Goodbye, Lord Bridgerton.”

You’d practically flown down the steps, you walking pace closer to a light run. You hadn’t bothered to look behind you, too scared that Anthony would be there, following after you. 

“Miss Kinsley!”

Of course, he had followed you. You kept your pace, refusing to give in and turn around. 

“Miss Kinsley!” You gasped, turning to your side to see Anthony following after you in his carriage. The many lords and ladies walking on the street gasped, staring at the couple. “Let me bring you home, please.” 

“That would be most improper, my lord.” You hissed, eyes wide. “I enjoy a nice walk.” 

“As do I.” Anthony was not giving up. “If you like, I can escort you home.” 

You glared, crossing your arms. “You are the most arrogant, outlandish, pig-headed-” 

“Are you quite finished?” He raised an eyebrow. “Mother is expecting me for luncheon.” 

You wanted to scream. Gathering your skirts in your hands, you climbed into the carriage, shutting the door behind you harshly. “I cannot stand you.” 

“Funny enough, I cannot stand you either.” He looked thoroughly entertained. “Yet here I am…” 

“Here you are.” You were now hugging yourself, knee bouncing nervously. And Anthony… he had not stopped staring at you, watching you with a fascination you had never seen before. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” His voice was soft. 

“Staring at me with such a-” You met his eyes, voice going weak. “Turn your eyes away from me if you can.” 

“That is the problem.” He leaned forward, whispering. “I do not think that’s possible.”

“Why?” You wished the carriage could go faster. “Is there something on my face that you have yet to tell me?” 

“Can I not admire you?” He smiled. “You are beautiful.” 

You gasped. “Do not say such things.” 

“It is true.” His smile had not left his face. “I am not a fool.” 

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, a small laugh leaving you before you could think.

“Do you believe me to be a fool?” When you did not answer, he smirked. “I know why you have been avoiding me, Miss Kinsley.” 

“Do tell.” 

The ever-familiar scene of your two houses came into view as the carriage slowed, Anthony’s voice confident. “You have fallen in love with me.” 

“You are wrong.” You didn’t know what you wanted to do: smack him or kiss him. “I have not fallen in love with you.” 

He laughed, holding your hand as you descended the carriage steps. “Whatever you say, my love.” 

“My love?” You rolled your eyes, smiling kindly at the servants you passed as you walked through the Bridgerton’s house. “I am not your-” Your eyes widened as Anthony led you into the parlor, the entirety of his family present. “Anthony?” 

Anthony brought you into the middle of the room, hooking his arm through yours. “I have an announcement.” 

Eloise peeked out from behind her book, grinning when she saw you. “Miss Kinsley!” 

Violet stood beside Francesca, who was currently playing the piano forte. “What is the announcement, dear?” 

“Miss Kinsley and I are to be wed.” The room erupted into chaos, all congratulating you while you stared at Anthony, frozen in shock. He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “I may have forgotten a rather important detail.” 

You laughed. “I believe you may have.” 

“Forgive me.” Lowering himself to one knee, he held your hands delicately in his, eyes desperately staring into yours. “Miss Kinsley, will you do me the honor of-” 

“Yes.” You nodded, eyes wide with tears. You leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Anthony, you must know that I’ve loved you for quite some time.” 

He stood, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You must know something as well.” 

You smiled. “And what is that?” 

“I have loved you for quite some time as well.” 

Violet was simply sobbing as she watched the two interact. “Anthony, you must give her your father’s ring.” Pulling the delicate thing off her finger, she placed it in Anthony’s palm, tears streaming down her face. “I always wished- Your mother and I wanted this for- Oh!” She sobbed again, pulling you both into a strong hug. “I am overjoyed!” 

Eloise laughed as you silently begged her for help. “I told you you were family, dear sister.” 

“They will be wondering where I am, Anthony.” You looked nervously toward the door. “Now that we are engaged, they will not allow this sort of-” 

“You are quite tense, my love.” He laughed, placing one hand on your waist, the other on your cheek. “Our wedding is in three days time, surely they will not mind-” 

“My father now believes that every time we have been alone before this was-” Your cheeks felt hot. “Was an attempt on your part to seduce me.” Anthony laughed, actually laughed at your statement. You, on the other hand, did not find this situation remotely as humorous. “It is not amusing in the slightest, Anthony.” 

“I find it amusing.” He whispered, leaning down until his nose nudged yours. “May I kiss you?” 

“You kissed me when I entered your office.” You raised an eyebrow. “Are you so desperate-” You gasped as Anthony pulled you impossibly close. 

“I have a whole lifetime to remedy, for delaying the inevitable, for keeping us apart.” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “Do you not enjoy it, kissing?” 

You scoffed. “I never said that-” 

“Good.” He smiled. 

“But yo-” Your eyes fluttered shut, his lips colliding against yours passionately. It seemed a whole eternity passed before either of you let go, your breath heavy as you parted. “You interrupted me.” 

“I am sorry.” 

You shrugged, kissing the corner of his mouth. “As long as you promise to interrupt me as you just did for the rest of our lives…” Your voice was warm, full of adoration for your future husband. “Then I do not mind.” 

“Well then,” He grinned, eyes falling to your lips once more. “Your wish is my command, Lady Bridgerton.” 

taglist: @esmereldafloyd @linnygirl09

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[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[impish-baby]

You should totally have a yandere queen caregiver who’s is just obsessed with one of the servants!!!

by the way I love all your writing

Does the swallow dream of flying - platonic yandere queen x servant reader - 👑

(Trigger warnings: reader is hurt offscreen, queen helps them take a bath, threats/mentions of violence not towards reader)

Beatrice has struggled to bear children of her own, it is an unfortunate truth. Perhaps that's why she feels the need to be softer to the younger members of her staff, using them as surrogates for what she can not have. There is one servant in particular that always catches her eye. A bit ditzy, but that is forgivable, the effort and pride they obviously put into their work making up for it. She does not mean to coddle, but they help soothe the growing ache in her chest.

The sight of you sniffling in a pathetic heap on the floor is already enough to anger her, but the fact that you're clutching your reddened cheek only makes matters worse. Combined with the fact that your shirt is stained with hot tea, the queen would like nothing more to hang the perpetrator this instant but she has more immediate matters to tend to.

"You are aware that crying like a child won't help anything, correct?" Beatrice kneels, a firm frown on her face as she pinches your chin between her fingers, turning your head to the side. The handprint is apparent, marring the skin of your face. She'll do better than hang your aggressor, they won't have a hand to strike with at all first.

"Come," she commands, standing up to her full height after releasing you. "Let's get you cleaned up." Once you're back onto your feet, Beatrice is already leading you through the halls, your head bowed in shame. You must think you're in trouble, far from it, but she'll allow you to think so if it keeps you cooperative.

The maids know better than to speak up once they see the look on the queen's face, silently opening the door to her chambers as she marches through while you follow behind like a lost ducking. Her room is massive much larger than your measly quarters, and a stinging fear courses through you at the thought of it also being the king's room.

Beatrice pays no mind to the troubled look on your face however, ordering a maid to fetch you a change of clothes before ushering you into the bathroom. Once inside, she's already rolling up the sleeves of her dress and kneeling beside the tub, starting to run a steaming bath. Bubbles couldn't hurt either, she muses, you deserve to be pampered a little.

The sight of you awkwardly fidgeting in the corner makes her scoff, but she can not deny the fondness in her heart at the image. "Do you expect to bathe in your clothes?" That simple comment is enough to stir you into action, Beatrice having the decency to turn away as you get undressed and slip into the water. When she turns back around, she can't help but smile at the sight of you gingerly playing with the bubbles.

"We'll wash your hair first, alright?" The queen's voice is much softer than usual as she kneels down again, "Back towards me, darling." You comply easily enough, even with how tense you're sitting in the water. Poor thing, you act so much like a scared mouse afraid of a cat, if only you knew how much she adored you. Beatrice hums as she starts to shampoo your hair, scratching your scalp in an attempt for you to relax.

You didn't think her majesty could be so gentle, sure she's never been cruel to you, but that does not make her any less intimidating. She seems...perfectly relaxed at the moment. It's odd. You do not deserve such care, especially not from the queen herself, but you're not brave enough to ask for an explanation.

Your hair is soon rinsed, Beatrice placing her hand over your forehead so no soap runs into your eyes. Her gentle care, along with the warm water makes your already weary form long for rest, almost nodding off in the tub. 'How cute..' The queen coos to herself, resigning to quickly finish up the bath so you can sleep.

You're barely awake by the time she's grabbed a towel for you, clumsily stepping into it before she's wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body. She takes it upon herself to dry your hair as well, but at least let's you dress yourself, only helping button your shirt when it proves too difficult.

Her bed is softer than clouds, you're sure. It only takes seconds for you to drift off with your head in Beatrice's lap, not hearing the bedroom door creek open or the hushed conversation that follows soon after.

[dendroseelie]

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[thevoidscreams]

Omggg can we get a fic where sanguinius is in heat and he chases reader down and when he finally catches her he marks her up and breeds her (Its mating season for him and he needs to let that freakness out)

You get to experience your first rut with your husband.

Warnings: Feral sex, biting, marking, breeding, predator/prey dynamics, rough sex, extreme power imbalance.

this got a bit creepy in spots, there are some yan type vibes and the consent could be considered a bit dubious. Please this fic gets darker than most of my other ones. Proceed with caution, and if you aren't comfortable don't read. Also I had fun writing this, but I'll understand if you're not into it.

Word count:2108

He took deep lungfuls of the air around him as you fought to keep your body from moving, from breathing too deep or loud. Your heart was pounding like a drum, so hard that despite the plush rug under your body you were sure he could hear it.

"Oh little dove~ Why don't you come out now? Hunting you is only making me more excited."

A droplet of something watery hit the solid wood floor from just beyond the rug you were laying on under the bed. Whether that droplet was saliva or.. something else, you couldn't be sure.

Damn it he'd warned you. Told you to stay away, just for a while. But you were a fool in love, and you thought you knew better, thought your heart was correct. His words had been so pleading for you to stay away.

"I won't be myself, you must understand. I won't be in control of my mind or body, it won't be safe for you. Please my love, promise me, promise me you will stay away, where it is safe. If I get my hands on you, if I'm allowed to have you.." There was genuine fear in his eyes. "I don't know what will happen. I love you so much. Just promise me."

"I don't understand, what do you mean by this?"

"When I'm like this. I have no control, I don't remember things, I become blind to logic or reason." If he hurt you, he'd never forgive himself.

You had promised, but you lied, and now you were going to reap the consequences of your actions.

The sound of his feet retreating through your home as he called for you gave you just a brief moment of peace. But you couldn't rest. He was still out there.

As you took deep steadying breaths you were reminded of what had happened earlier that day.

Slipping your escort hadn't been easy. Raldoron was as sharp as the edge of an energy sword and more vigilant than a hawk.

Getting away from him to go and look for your beloved had been a task, first you had needed to be alone. Easy enough, you could lie about a bath, but every other part after that required you to sneak out a window, climb down a building and get past a dozen more astartes and then human guards.

It was such a stupid idea. Why hadn't you listened.

Well maybe it had been the psychic dreams of him, having intentionally locked himself in a cell for your safety.

When you found him he looked miserable. But there had been a gleam in his eyes when he saw you, a hunger that had nothing to do with blood. But you have allowed yourself to be blind to the truth.

He'd reached for you through the bars. Begging to touch you.

"I know you told me to stay away, but I just wanted to see you. And to tell you that I love you. I can hardly stand the few days I've been apart from you, but a whole other week just feels like torture." You told him, holding his finger in one hand as he smiled sweetly to you.

"No it is alright my darling dove." He cooed. You shivered at the use of his pet name for you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better, in fact I believe I am in control enough to be out for now. If you wouldn't mind, I would like a hug, just a hug." He assured you.

And you, the lovesick fool, ran off happily to find the keys to the tiger's cage.

When he was out. He smiled and stretched his wings. The look of love and content on his face twisted to something darker. Something you hadn't seen before.

"Guin?" You murmured, stepping back unconsciously as he turned his gaze on you. His pupils were blown wide and you understood then with terrible clarity the error of your ways.

"Run." He smiled, a wickedly gleeful look on his face. And you did, dropping the key in the process.

You escaped by sheer dumb luck. The thundering footfalls of the primarch falling behind you as you'd run, it had been like a scene from that old terran book about saurids.

Now you were hiding in your room, under your shared bed. It was terrifying. You struggled to hold back sobs of fear and distress.

Whoever that was, it didn't act like your husband. It acted like a monster.

You took a shaky breath, maybe you could get out, find Raldoron and tell him that Sanguinius was out. He would know what to do. Hells bells you were such a fool.

The floor suddenly dragged against your belly as an iron grip dragged you from the perceived safety of your hiding spot.

Another came down on your upper back, fingers pinning you to the floor.

"There you are, my dove."

You turned your face to look up at the drooling man you called your husband. His wild eyes burning with need as he crouched over you naked, his cock throbbing with what seemed to be a painful need.

"Why did you hide from me, little bird. I only wanted to give you that hug."

You wiggled under him. "Please, Sangy, I'm.. I'm sorry." You tried to crawl away but he was worlds beyond you in strength.

"It's alright dove. I know you didn't mean it." He lifted you by the back of your shirt and crushed you against his chest. "There there. That's a good girl." Even under the dear you couldn't deny the effect his words had on you. You loved when he called you good. It made you truly believe you were. But now, it only brought up a confusing blend of feelings.

You writhed in his grasp, but he didn't even seem to notice. He buried his face in your hair and took deep, deep breaths. Filling his lungs with you. "Sanguinius. Please. Your arms are too tight." You would sleep with him, give him consent under any normal circumstances but these weren't that.

"Such good timing my bird, you're at the peak of your fertility. This will be a fruitful union indeed."

The tearing of fabric accompanied the quiet trembling of your body. He held you crushed against him, his cock brushing your wet entrance. "So good for me." He pressed a kiss to your throat, and you jerked in his grasp. Murmuring that you were ticklish there.

He didn't reply, only pushed his cock into you. It was a familiar burning. One your body had grown used to. It felt good, really good, after the days alone with no one there to help you and fingers that felt inadequate for getting the job done, this fullness had been what you'd been craving.

But it felt hollow. Something was missing.

"Sanguinius." You whimpered.

He bared his teeth, drool splashing on the hard wood just below you as his whole body shook. "Oh little bird~!" He moaned aloud. His cock was pushed as deep as it would go. Filling you to the brim. "Gonna fill you so good. Gonna give you my little chicks." His hips drew back giving you a moment to breath, but as he thrust back in. You knew this wasn't going to be the gentle love making you usually had with your husband.

His hips snapped forward, his body curled over yours as he caged you between his body and the floor.

This wasn't love making, it wasn't even fucking. He was rutting, pulling you down to meet each thrust as he growled and hissed his pleasure at being inside you again. Mindless and blind to your cries below him. Half pleasured, half pained.

"Oh yes, take it little bird, take all of me inside you." It was the only warning you got before he unloaded his seed into you. His teeth bared, he sank them into your shoulder, deep, through the muscle to the bone. His claws raked down your back, warmth dripped from your flesh, droplets of blood dripped down to the floor below.

You wailed. Begging, pleading.

You were sure you'd have a brief moment of reprieve once his hips stopped but as he pulled back you saw the tortured expression on his face. For just a few moments, he was lucid once more. "Oh no," he shook, looking over your body, bruised and bloody. "Oh throne! Please no!" You shook in his arms trembling as you tried to reach for him. "RALDORON!" He cried, fighting his biological needs long enough to call for his son.

The door burst open to reveal the angel in red. "Emperor preserve, what happened!?" He went to his father who was weeping and shaking. "Take her. Please." Raldoron grabbed a heavy blanket, wrapping you in the fabric as his father's thirst helped stem the other needs coursing through his veins.

You didn't remember anything after the bite, only that it felt cold around you and there were panicked voices.

There was terrible commotion for what felt like forever.

Then nothing.

Sanguinius had hurt you. It was all he could think through his body's haze of heat and hormones. Raldoron had taken you away as the angel stumbled back to his cage.

Someone found the key and locked it again. His hair and nails and body was painted with the red of your rapidly cooling blood.

"She'll make a full recovery." He wasn't sure who gave him the news but he was grateful. "Oh my love." He went when he was alone, cursing his body for whining for more of your body, more of your blood. He would never allow this to happen again.

You awoke in the medicae days later. Your body felt fuzzy and warm. Painkillers you realized sluggishly. There were stitches in your shoulder and back.

An apothecary came in to check on you. Told you what happened.

He didn't have to scold you, he simply told you that your husband was properly contained again. You began to weep, the guilt eating at you harder than your husband. "You will recover my lady. There is no need to be so upset." You shook your head and laid down, not having the energy to explain.

You loved your husband and you'd made him a promise. Only to break it days later and almost get yourself killed. Even still you didn't blame him. You blamed yourself. "When will I be able to see him?"

"Three days. You should rest till then." You did ask after him every day and asked for him to be sent for as soon as possible. Just hoping this wouldn't be the end of your marriage. He'd have every right to send you away for doing this. You just hoped it never came to that.

Sanguinius was dressed and out of the cage as soon as he was mentally stable.

He was informed that you'd sent for him. He feared the worst. As upset with you as he was for you doing what you'd done, he didn't want you hurt. As he went to you he felt a pool of sickness churn in his guts. What if you asked him to let you go? What if you were too traumatized and wanted to leave him? He would never forgive himself if he'd lost you.

When he pushed through the doors to the medicae he was surprised to see you up. You rushed him, tears leaking from your eyes. "I'm so sorry." You cried as he fell to his knees to embrace you. "I know I was wrong, it was stupid. I'm sorry." You shook and he just held you, your face buried in his chest. "My dove, I should be apologizing. I hurt you so badly." You shook your head.

"I couldn't keep my promise, I lied to you, I got hurt and you didn't deserve any of that." You hugged him as tight as you could. "Please don't send me away. Please don't make me leave for this."

He looked down at you, puzzled. "Why would I do that?" "Because I almost got myself killed and worse it was you. You told me not to. But I went to you anyway. I let you out, you sounded so normal." He shushed you. "I know what happened, I saw the security feed." He soothed. "And I won't be letting you go. You are my wife. And you understand now?"

You nodded. He sighed. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way he supposed. And this was certainly a lesson you would never forget.

[gremlingottoosilly]

König with an s/o who refuses to accept any form of payment from him. Like gifts are okay sometimes on special occasions but they’re going out to eat? Reader is fighting him for the bill. König buys reader a designer bag worth more than their salary on a random day, reader is working that back to pay him back.

It's cute how you think you can be independent with this man. If you want to pay for your own meal after a nice date, you better be ready for his hand to literally crush yours in his hold, making sure you're not doing silly, stupid stuff like paying for yourself. He doesn't kill people for you to just refuse his money! He understands how hard it must be for you to get your dumb dreams about being independent crushed, but...well, he can always give you another gift to cheer you up, right? Konig has pretty awkward views on roles in relationships. Even if you assumed the role of provider or at least an independent part of this arrangement from the start, he would still refuse to acknowledge your uncomfortableness around expensive gifts and other things he is giving you. It's hard to earn more money than a mercenary whose only bad habit is being obsessed with his girlfriend, and you'd, shamefully, have to acknowledge the fact he has more means to pay for you and him. You can only achieve a separate tab by having a really long conversation at the very start of your relationships - but even then, Konig would only allow you to buy small things, insignificant purchases that don't really matter in the long run. He just...doesn't understand why you don't want his gifts, his special treatment, his everything. Isn't this how love is supposed to be like? He gives you money and nice things, you give him love. Some occasional gifts from your side are encouraged, but he is fine with giving you huge allowance and making you quit your job. So...yeah, good luck with trying to repay him. This man only accepts payments in your mouth, your tits and your pussy - so you will be breaking your back over some new designer bag, but in a completely different meaning...

[bokettochild]

Okay, I accept your dare! Please tell me about your guardian of life Legend theory (only if you want to, though)!

Even if you don’t answer this, I appreciate that you took the time to read this. Thank you so much, and have a lovely day/night ❤️💜💚💙

Ooh! I've actually had a couple people send me this ask recently! So I suppose it's about time I answered them!

Alright, well, a central thing in all Zelda games is the idea that the hero must rescue someone, right? Typically, that's Princess Zelda, sometimes it's actually a sibling, guardian, or friend and then Zelda comes into the picture later (WW, OoT, TP) but there are a few games where Zelda isn't even in need of saving (and no, I'm not talking about EoW). These games, specifically, are the OoX games and LA, where the focus is not on saving a princess, but on saving a deity!

"But, Ketto," I hear some of you say, "Zelda is a goddess! She's Hylia incarnate!" And you're right! But the fact of the matter is that the hero has to save the goddess Hylia, or aid her, on a regular basis, it's when he starts helping other deities that we need to start looking and going "what's this?"

And Legend does that! The Oracle games (of which there are two, although a third was in the works and I have plenty of in-world theories about that, but let's focus here) have him saving not just the Goddess of the Triforce (Hylia), but the Golden Three themselves, makers of the world and creators of just about everything on it. Granted, they're in semi-mortal form, but he's still saving basically Hyrule's whole pantheon.

Allow me to recap:

ALTTP - Rescues Hylia's Incarnate

Oracle of Seasons - Rescues Din's Incarnate

Oracle of Ages - Rescues Nayru's Incarnate

Oracle of Secrets - Was supposed to rescue Farore's Incarnate, but the game got nixed

LA - Rescues the Wind Fish

And if we want to make this the LU version, than:

+ ALBW - Rescues Lolia's Incarnate from herself

Which means that the Hero of Legend has spent his existence rescuing gods and goddesses- not one, all of them!

And that's not even touching the fact that he's also the one to:

Rescue the Seasonal Spirits

Restore the Seasonal Cycle

Restore/Preserve the Timestream

And if you like to add CoH to Legend's accomplishments, than:

+ Rescue the Fates

This means that, within his lifetime, the Hero of Legend acts as the force to not only protect and preserve the whole of the Hylian pantheon, but also the forces of nature themselves!

Now, I'm not saying that the other heroes are lesser, or their accomplishments are in any ways less impressive, because any one of Legend's adventures is no more difficult or easy than any other hero's adventure. That said, he has had, at minimum, four adventures, maximum of nine depending on what games you assign him and if you count the canceled games that fit the pattern of his other adventures (Secrets being an Oracle game) and all that. So while any one accomplishment isn't greater, the fact of the matter is that if you compare all that Legend has done to all that the other heroes' have done on their own, it is considerably MORE.

So yeah, there's something to be said for accomplishment, and when you look at all of the everything I listed above, it does seem rather that the Hero of Legend spent his era holding the world together with his own two hands. I mean, he's basically the designated guardian of the goddesses themselves. Not their lands, not their incarnates, but just.... the gods.

He's the Guardian of Ages, Secrets, and Seasons, of Light, of Dark even, in that case of Lorule. Of Dreams and Reality. Of Fate itself.

The Guardian of every aspect of Life itself, preserver of it.

If one wanted to put it in the most dramatic way possible (which, you know me, I DO) one might even say that the moment Legend took the Triforce as a child, he in essence sacrificed himself, his life and future, in exchange for Hyrule's life, future, and prosperity. Honestly, that's probably how Hylian's of Ages after his will see it! The Hero became a living sacrifice, acting at the will of the Triforce to save the gods in exchange for his wish coming true.

A wish that (if you will forgive my slightly relevant rabbit trail) some people have theorized is the entire reason the Timelines were split. This idea isn't mine, I'll note, but the theory is that the Downfall Timeline is the original one, and when Legend made the wish to undo all that Ganon had done, then, by nature, hat would mean restoring all the lives of the people Ganon killed, which would include the Hero of Time himself. However, the Hero of Legend would never become a hero if the Hero of Time didn't die, so we have a conundrum; Legend can't make the wish if he never existed, but the Triforce still has to grant said wish. Solution? A new timeline is formed where, through whatever means, be it Fi sealing him to give him a better chance, or Ganon being a second slower, or whatever have you, the Hero of Time survived, and went on to split the timelines himself when he returned to his childhood after saving the future, rewriting time a second time there as well.

If we want to go with this, then Legend would be the sole reason all three timelines stood a chance, and, well, you know how I love to push the Legend agenda; I'm all for that!

But what makes him any different from any hero? Why him?

Well, he's born out of a world doomed without him, and if we go with the Prince Legend theory, then he's born of the blood of the goddess, the spirit of the Hero, and canonically to a line of Guardian Knights. It's not by chance, I think, that he'd be all this; the goddesses made a purposeful choice. They didn't just pick him, they created him, they crafted the perfect situation for him to be born to in order for him to end up as the hero they'd eventually need themselves. he, like Fi, was forged specifically for his role; a guardian, a protector, a hero, a preserver of all that makes up the nature of Life itself.

Legend's shown to understand beasts, birds, the trees themselves, and even spirits, in the games and mangas both! He's born of Hylia, but also, in OoS, he's revived by Din after an attack, and she breathes life into him again after he should have died. He has Nayru's blessings as well after he saves her, and Farore's touch has always been on him because he's the Hero of Courage.This would make him the blood of Hylia, the breath of Din, Blessed of Nayru and Chosen of Farore; all the goddesses had a hand in this kid, and in return he's had a hand in their fates.

One would almost say he's deity level himself (maybe a demi-god even?) even without the theory of him being Zelda's brother, but that does feel like something nobody would be able to prove in his era. So, instead, I like to think that legend is regarded more as the Guardian Spirit of Life itself, in all it's aspects. the guy who just so happens to show up in the right place, at the right time, no matter the country, era, or situation, no matter who the foe is, and he's always the one to fix it!

You can't tell me the kingdoms aren't convinced he's something special, something more than a hero.

Hence: Guardian of Life!

Hope that covers it well enough! I feel like I might have left something out, but, hey, it's been a bit since this idea first came to me. those tags are off, what? an old art post from several years ago? Maybe a theory post? It's from a while back, either way, so I believe I'm well within my rights to not remember my own theory very well anymore LOL

[sinful-lanterns]

Ooo! My mind is stirring with all sorts of ideas for this new Demon AU of yours, Angey! 😍

So these demons take you back to whatever realm they live in, allowing you to recover from the injuries you sustained from that terrible night. Given their demonic natures, you expect them to take advantage of you in some form or another. Yet, while they're largely curious of you and the strength of your soul, they otherwise leave you be.

But that allows you to get to know them and vice versa. You learn this group is comprised of powerful individuals—rather high-ranking ones in the hellish domain you find yourself in. Some of them have lived for centuries and others have lived for far longer than even that. They've since amassed the type of might and influence that humans within your world could only dream of.

Gradually, that allows you to ponder upon an idea—one that you're certain they'll agree with: revenge.

"Will you help me?" you ask them one day.

And you can't help the way your heart skips a beat at the very slow, sharp smiles aimed your way.

They take you to the center of their castle where several thrones sit in a ring surrounding a stone altar—a meeting place of sorts.

Or one to conduct a ritual.

For them to agree to your request of revenge, you must be able to consummate a pact with them. Only then would you be able to call upon their aid and assist you with all the power they possess.

But they also tell you that you can decline to partake in their ritual. Rather than leave you to mercy of the demons of their world or the conniving ones of yours, they can take you someplace far away and safe with enough wealth to build a new life. With as old as some of them are, they've amassed a similar amount of wealth in that time, so it's hardly a financial burden for them to aid you in such a way. You can't help but think it so strange that these demonic creatures somehow have more honor than even your own bloodkin.

Nevertheless, you agree to their terms.

With unexpected tenderness, they help lay you atop the altar, and multiple hands help with removing your clothes. Some distract you with kisses that leave your mind dizzy with desire while others suckle at soft, tender flesh. Beneath determined and skillful touches, however, they soon have you spread open, eager, and oh so wet for them.

Whoever takes you first is entirely up to your imagination, but given the size of some of these demons though, it takes some time for them to be able to work themselves into you. When the first demon finally manages to hilt herself fully inside, that's when you really start getting into it. 😏 In fact, you startle her unexpectedly when you wrap your legs around her waist, greedily determined to milk her cock.

What follows is a long night of absolute pleasure and debauchery. There's such an earnestness in how these powerful demons almost seem to worship you with their attention.

Like, can you imagine it? 🤤

Eirene playing with your body like a master strategist, testing touches and rhythmic thrusts to draw out the best pleasure from you. She wraps her tail around your leg to keep you open and dripping for her.

Adela who wants to be so good for you that she can't stop the way from how quickly her hips rut into you as she hears each pretty moan you let out. Her claws dig into the surface of the stone altar, using it as additional leverage behind her thrusts as you whisper praise into a pointed ear.

Then, there's Chameleon who sits on the edge of the altar for her turn, bouncing you atop her lap. She has your thighs sitting on the outside of hers, baring you intimately to the many eyes watching you. And she won't let you turn your gaze away from them as she steadily grips your chin between her fingers, murmuring such sinful things to you.

This should be degrading. Humiliating even. And yet you can't help but gasp for more, begging for it even, pleading for the promises they made to you as much as the desire to belong to them.

You moan at one particularly hard thrust, dropping your head back against her shoulder as you reach behind you to grip a large horn. You feel the growl of pleasure against your neck as Chameleon sinks her teeth into your neck, spilling deep inside you, mixing with the rest of the seed already there.

Cabernet kneels then, and she can't seem to get enough of your taste as she laps between your legs with a talented mouth and an obscenely long tongue. Slitted, violet eyes never wanders from yours as she delightedly works you into another orgasm even with Chameleon's cock still pulsing hard inside you.

And then there's Langley, sitting back and watching it all from her throne, demonic eyes gleaming with lust as she watches her inner circle take and slowly bind themselves to you and you to them.

You're convinced that days have passed as they continue with their ritual. Sometimes, they go one by one, and during other occasions, multiple of them take you at the same time. Throughout, they mark you in different places with their fangs to show that they have also consented to this pact you made. You have bite marks on either side of your neck, atop your breast, along the insides of your thighs, etc.

You're under their protection now, and anyone who seeks to harm you will have earned their absolute wrath because they will always take care of what's theirs... -- Nyx (formerly 🌙 anon) P.S. - Yes, I finally made the writing blog. 😉

OMG NO WAYYYY. You finally made the writing blog, anon! Everyone go follow 🌙 anon’s new blog, I can’t wait to see what things they come up with on there 🤭

Anywho, back to the thirst. I love that in order to form a pact with the demons, they basically need to bang you. The transfer of bodily fluids is quite common in many rituals, but people tend to use blood rather than cum when forming the contract. It’s just that the demons have taken such a liking to you, that they wanted to use the ritual to give you pleasure rather than pain. You’ve been through too much pain already and they wanted to give you the experience of feeling loved and adored.

Another thing to consider is the horn grabbing. Oh man, the fact that you grab onto their horns and it’s extra sensitive for them really turns them on. Humans are usually never that bold, but when you latch onto Chameleon’s horns at the peak of your release, it really is a weak spot for the demons watching. Many of them love it when you latch onto their body parts for comfort, digging your pathetic human nails into their flesh as you bounce on their cocks so desperately. Your cute human pussy just fluttering around their shafts, it drives them wild and they’re growling at each other to take the next place between your legs.

I also love how their tails wrap around you when they’re feeling extra into it. They probably didn’t expect for a human pussy to feel so good, but a lot of the demon girls will coil their tails around your legs/waist/neck because don’t want you to be separated. It can be a way of showing their possessiveness towards you, but all in all, there’s just so much fun to imagine with demon ladies and their unique anatomy 🤤

[merakiui]

texts i think the twst cast would send with the help of liquid courage. some of them don't even need liquid courage, but it is silly to imagine a drunk text from them anyway.

warning: some of these lines are excessively cheesy and also nsfw.

riddle - i want to study you like you're my notes and do you like you're my homework.

trey - are you a pastry because i'd like to fill you. ;)

cater - heeeyyy heeyyy wanna be more than /j? ;D we can be /srs instead. <3

ace - i'm in love with you.

deuce - can i take you out? on a date. not to kill you. i would never. you're really cool and i think we should go out like best buds do. you and me together. a date. for best buds. a best buds date.

leona - bed's empty. come warm it. don't make me wait.

ruggie - starving rn. lemme feast between your legs.

jack - can we be lifelong mates?

azul - you must be my glasses because i can't see clearly without you.

jade - mushrooms double in size every day. may i show you a special species that does the same whenever i look at you? :)

floyd - life's hard. essay's hard. dick's hard. :/

kalim - just so you know, i don't need to use oasis maker on you to get you soaked. :3

jamil - you'd look pretty wearing a collar with my name on it.

vil - you would look very beautiful tangled in my sheets. shall we make this opinion of mine a fact tonight?

rook - let me inside, mon amour. in more ways than one, of course. <3

epel - you're the apple of my eye... (the follow-up text: that was so corny. can we just fuck instead?)

idia - jk but not rly but jk wannawatchthisnewshowtogetherinmyroomjustthetwoofuspleasesayyes

malleus - child of man, allow me to bestow upon you a most glorious gift: my surname.

lilia - if you'll allow it, i would love nothing more than to give you a delightful green gown.

silver - would you be willing to sleep beside me tonight? i'd like to meet you in my dreams.

sebek - HUMAN. YOU ARE OKAY.......FOR A HUMAN. VERY OKAY. YES.

rollo - i yearn to kiss you and taste sweetness on your lips, and in return you can taste the sin on mine.

neige - you're really so cute!!! i wanna be more than friends. :D keep this a secret, though. don't tell (name)!

che'nya - you're purrfect in everything, but nothing is nyat bad either. lemme come over and prove it. ;3c

fellow - are you in the market for a husband? i know a great candidate. i'll introduce you free of charge! it's on me! (the follow-up when you ask if it's him: no, i'm talking about hellow fonest.)

[yanderes-galore]

Low honor Arthur Morgan + prompts 58, 57?

Yandere! Low Honor! Arthur Morgan Prompts 58 + 57

"One more mistake and I may just break something."

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Deception, Violence, Possessive behavior, Threats, Arthur likes control, Coercion into eloping, Isolation, Forced/Toxic relationship.

You should've known better than getting with a man like him.

When you met Arthur, you felt your heart flutter. He was handsome and an outlaw. Despite the warnings you were given... you found yourself falling for him.

Even Arthur felt himself drawn to you.

Your time with Arthur was sweet at first. You had met him at a bar and looked at him as though he was a gentleman. To be fair, for an outlaw, he played the part of a gentleman well.

But Arthur was never a very honest man.

You were like a fly in a web to him. When he first saw you, it was indeed love at first sight for him as it was for you. Except... love for him was quite different.

You saw Arthur as a charming yet rugged man. One you had no issue seducing one night with a couple drinks. Yet while you saw it as all sunshine and rainbows...

Arthur was busy trying to figure out how to keep you.

You were too delusional with your feelings to realize Arthur's honeyed words felt fake. Your 'relationship' had started just because of you being intimate in a hotel one night. Ever since, you've loyally met up with Arthur... eager to just have his affection.

You're naive. Even your family keeps pressing that you shouldn't be involved with a man like him. Arthur, however... tells you to ignore them.

Each kiss, despite tasting like bitter tobacco or whiskey, is rough yet pleasant to you. Each hug is tight yet makes you feel secure. You were blinded by love...

Unaware of the fact Arthur intended to trap you... leading you like an oblivious rabbit to an animal trap just to prevent you from running.

Once you were close enough to him, clinging to him like a lovesick fool, Arthur knew he could lessen his restraint. You looked so cute to him. He loved the idea of making you his.

Which is why he suggested eloping... why bother with a big wedding?

No one else approves of your love... for good reason.

Arthur never hurt you... thankfully. However, the outlaw did enjoy control. Eloping with you allowed that.

Now he felt you'd always be his, slipping a stolen ring on your finger to solidify things.

It's after your little 'ceremony' together that Arthur became more possessive. He was quick to steal you from your family, isolating you to a gang you didn't know. It wasn't until you were surrounded by outlaws yet forbidden from talking to them that you had... second thoughts.

This wasn't your dream... was it? You were thinking of something more akin to the typical family life. You wanted to prove to your family that Arthur wasn't who they thought he was...

Yet you weren't even allowed to talk to them.

You were meant to be Arthur's obedient partner. You were meant to stay as loyal as you were before. You're just meant to be his....

Such a new dynamic often sparks many arguments between you... breaking your fantasies as you realize just who Arthur was.

Arthur... doesn't take this well.

He may not harm you. But the man can scare you. Especially with his strong build.

You and Arthur had gone off to make a private camp together. He says it's a date. Yet you know he just wants you with him and not left alone.

You ask if Arthur can take you to the town your family is from. You haven't seen them in so long now. Must be... a couple months now....?

Arthur just tenses... shooting you a cold glare... yet you keep pushing.

In the middle of quite possibly nowhere, Arthur and you bicker. Your husband remains adamant on keeping you away from your family. You, on the other hand, are tired of just submitting...

It isn't long before Arthur has enough.

You jump when the coffee pot is flung off the fire. Your heart nearly stops as Arthur stares you down, practically growling. He's... terrifying.

So unlike your usual handsome outlaw.

"One more mistake and I may just break something." Arthur barks, making you flinch away. "You've been testing me long enough... Your folks don't matter no more."

"Just one visit... please love... I promise I'll come back to you...!" You try to bargain but Arthur doesn't relent.

"You go near them again and I'll shoot them myself." Arthur threats, stunning you into silence.

"... y-you'll... what...?" You whisper, feeling yourself shake.

"Sweetheart... You know how long I've been wanting to shoot them fools?" Arthur chuckles in an exasperated tone. "They've done nothing but put me down... but say I can't have you... but y'know what...?"

Arthur then leans forward, holding your chin softly. He makes you look into his eyes. You swore he felt pleasure when he saw your fearful expression.

"You're stuck with me, like it or not." Arthur coos, caressing your cheek. "Since I met you, I never planned on letting you go... so forget going back home. You're with me now..."

You then feel yourself tugged close to him, him gently kissing your neck.

"I think it's time for rest, darlin'..." Arthur whispers, soon tugging you to the tent he's making you share. "I want to hold you...."

As you're dragged to the tent, you feel a sense of dread...

You begin to wish you listened to your family...

Maybe then you'd look past your fantasies... and see the beast you were truly dealing with.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Corori

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 3

A penguin! What's more Christmas than a penguin? Many things. Many, many things. But they're still moderately Christmas. That's just your lot in life when you're an inherently whimsical creature living in a world of ice and snow!

While real Antarctic penguins are constantly fighting for their lives in a freezing polar desert, Corori is having a whole lot of fun! Instead of huddling with anyone else for warmth, it is playing with a snowball, rolling it up and pushing it down a slope. Yippee! What allows it to be unaffected by the elements? Clearly, the answer is its cute little hat. And the fact that its feet are so close to its blubbery little body. I know you don't see any, but they're there, I promise!

Corori's snowball is dangerous! What did you expect? This is a big rolling ball in a platformer! One must wonder, though, how much harm it actually intends, especially because I doubt it can see around that thing to know if anyone is in the way. Maybe it is just trying to get the snowball bigger to make the biggest damned snowman anyone's ever seen... don't tell Corori about Snowman's Land, please. It would be rather disheartened. After it pushes the snowball... that's it! It only had the one. I hope you liked it!

So, Corori is pretty "cool", huh? I think it's very n"ice"! There's "snow" doubt about that! If you don't like Corori, I might just have to give you the "cold" shoulder. If I ever saw one in real life, I would hope to have a "polar"oid camera on me! "Antarctic Krill"

Anyway, Corori gives no ability in this game. And it sort of makes sense, I suppose? Previous (and future) games would have penguin enemies with the Ice ability, but these are typically ones that have intrinsic Ice Powers, while Corori, as far as we know, is just playing with the snow. I could do that! But it doesn't make me able to produce ice from my body. With my unique biological abilities, I would yield the Pee ability!

After Kirby's Dream Land 3, Corori was gone. No one had any contact with them. They left no note. We did not know what happened, and resigned ourselves to a world where we would never see Corori again...

Until, after 25 years, Corori returned! "I'm back," said Corori, "and more powerful than ever." Indeed, in Kirby and the Forgotten Land, Corori can now make multiple snowballs, getting to work on a new one right after pushing the previous away! You will also now notice its little orange feet, no longer hidden within its body. Enhanced snowball craft? Increased cold resistance? Could it be? Yes! Corori is now a source of the Ice ability! And its hat is so realistic now! I feel like I could wear that! But I won't. It's not mine.

[animentality]

oiiiiiiiiiiiiii, calling for readers again

i have a novel i'd like to share with you guys, if you're interested.

i'm not calling this a beta readers request this time, because more than anything, i just need people who can read my gay little forced proximity romance, and just tell me if they think it's good.

don't need line edits, don't need grammar checks, just people reading the story like it's a book they picked up at barnes and noble.

and then telling me what you liked or didn't like. that's all.

so. here's the summary, and uh...if you're interested in checking it out, pls contact me!

here are the warnings first: graphic violence, child death (death of an infant), self-harm (because their powers are blood-based, and they need to self harm in order to use them), implied sexual assault/incest (not graphic), animal death (a lot of it), and oh yeah, sex scenes. this is an adult romantasy. adult.

and now here's the summary:

In a world ravaged by war between the old gods and the new, demigods sow chaos and discord wherever they go, destined to be either legendary heroes or fearsome villains. But Marrow is not like other demigods. They are the child of the god of blood and slaughter, born with only one purpose: to kill in their savage father’s name, and bleed the entire world dry. The one problem? 

The only living creature they want to kill is their father.

But Marrow has been imprisoned within their temple for their entire life, unable to realize that dream…until now. A deal with a devil allows them to escape, making their way into a hostile world they know little about- and matters are not helped by the fact that their father can use their eyes to see what they're seeing at any time. To keep him from seeing their location, Marrow must remained blindfolded. But Marrow, an eternal optimist, won’t let their lack of vision stop them from fulfilling their lifelong dream. 

The demigod hunter might, however. Arlo Ren is a member of the Razor Watch, a religious order dedicated to the goddess of the hunt. He is clever, but impulsive, eager to prove himself to his goddess by capturing powerful prey. Soon after meeting Marrow by chance, and discovering what they are, he sees his opportunity and refuses to let it go. Literally. The demigod hunter handcuffs the demigod to his side, and swears to sacrifice them in his god’s name. Luckily for him, Marrow is an inexperienced, blind pacifist, who needs him to guide them through a dangerous, unknown world. They fully intend to escape him eventually. But perhaps a demigod and a demigod hunter have more in common than they might think. Perhaps they might even need each other...but they will, at the very least, need to learn how to live, work, and fight together as they are relentlessly chased by Marrow’s powerful demigod siblings, all hoping to kill their youngest sibling and please the god they abandoned. 

And that's all folks!

Pls let me know if you'd be interested, and I'll reach out!

[forsaken-headcanons]

Forsaken 'The Upgraded Hell AU' [Name might change, I suck at giving names]

Tw: slight mentions of death.

My hc reminder: The Robloxia is made out code, Spectre is created from broken code that gained sentience and becomes more powerful the more negativity/suffering it consumes. Spectre is a silent killer.

The lore/world building:

It's been thousands of years since the first person got Forsakened™. The world advanced, moved on and everyone that went missing became a simple legend to scare kids so they won't trust strangers, eventually even this legend became forgotten. No one remembers the missing people anymore.

For survivors and killers the time that passed is even longer. They've been trapped in endless loop of death and survival/chase and murder for what it feels like eternity. The memories of their past became blurry, now feeling like some odd dream. The purgatory is their only reality, they don't remember why they are here anymore.

Unbeknownst to everyone a Cancer of Code, a being that owns the purgatory... The Spectre grows in power fueled by suffering of the people it trapped in it's realm. It slowly spreads outside the purgatory, silently taking control of the rest of the world.

___

It's a winter, a day like every other day, people live their lives, but then something shifts. In one second the entire world collapses. A snowstorm that affects the entire Robloxia. People loose their lives, homes, families. More than half of the population loses their lives.

The Spectre made it's move, bored of the purgatory, where's fun in every round being basically the same for millennials. It decided to spread onto the real world, altering the very core of it. It created disasters to survive, giving the people the very minimum. After all it doesn't want to look it's for of entertainment.

Winter became and endless snowstorm with temperatures below zero, that stops only a few times during it's duration.

Spring is one big flood, that seems like an ocean.

Summer is a drought, the temperature so high it feels like you're in the middle of the desert, in fact the world becomes a desert.

Fall comes with a fog so thick, that sometimes you can't see your own hands.

Each season spawns a animals/monsters that are suitable for the environment. Some being a source of food for the people, while other bring death. Each season is it's own hell, with it's own troubles.

Examples of hostile animals:

Winter - has mutated Yeti like monsters hiding in the snow.

Spring - underwater beasts that look kind of like water dinosaurs.

Summer - a gigantic worms that move underneath the sand that feed on what they find on the surface.

Fall - a beasts of unknown look, hiding in the fog, the only hint that they are nearby is a sound of their movement and the fog becoming slightly darker colour.

Examples of troubles each season brings:

Winter - the cold and lack of food

Spring - the water is not clean so it's hard to get drinkable water, it rains and storms often

Summer - the heat, lack of food and water, easy way for uncontrollable fires to start and sandstorms.

Fall - seemingly the easiest season, but you can easily get lost in the fog. Be weary of what lurks inside it.

You also must be weary of other surviving groups, not everyone is friendly. Also the different illnesses can happen.

___

The Spectre has a favourite group. A group that allowed it to achieve the control over the world. A group made of people trapped in it's first purgatory. Survivors and Killers combined.

It nerfed the killers so they would struggle in this new world, it also buffed survivors so they wouldn't die so easily. (It also nerfed the new generation of admins, after all, it's not fair for them to be stronger than the rest.)

The Spectre forced the groups to work together, enjoying the tension between them. It doesn't care about the other groups/people in the apocalyptic world of Robloxia, as long as it's favourites live.

For the survivors/killers it was supposed to be another 'day' of rounds, but suddenly everyone got spawned in one big cabin, with snowstorm raging outside. Their only explanation being a note:

'Welcome to your new hell:D'

The Spectre sent the groups into the real world, once it took control of it. It combined the cabins of survivors and killers into one bigger cabin. Each person has their own room, but they are forced to live together.

The cabin is located on a hill, which gives them a little bit of advantage. Both groups, seeing that their situation changed decided to work together to have bigger chances of survival. People that were trapped in purgatory are the only Robloxians that have an ability to respawn, but each time they die, they loose a part of themselves.

Once I'll be done with it I will make another ask that will focus on the 'Ex Purgatory Prisoners' group (I really need a shorter name for them), going further into each character. This one is about world building.

~ Purple anon

did you just come into our inbox, casually drop the peakiest peak known to mankind, and just. dip. /silly

THIS IS SO BRICK-SHITTINGLY COOL???? WHAT THE FUCK???? WAAAIT WAIT WAIT. hey. hey. he;y. leans on expensive car. ehy. /unrizz /silly (< has no idea how to express how cool we think this is in a normal way)

jfc hold ON. we've never thought of incorporating seasons into this holy shit?? MADDENINGLY creative. what the hell. throws a cinderblock in your direction (it misses but we use the downtime as a distraction to yoink this headcanon /sillier)

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (5)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 5.4k

— 🍄 summary: what’s better than two nerds? three nerds, obviously.

— ☕ content warnings: jimin is a shameless flirt, mentions of death/decomposition/suicide, more scientific inaccuracies, jimin joins the league of nerds, namjoon is a sweetheart

— 🕸️ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who continues to read and comment!! your kind words keep me writing :)

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 5: triple threat

october 14, 2004

"How is it? Do I look human enough?" Jimin asks on their way out.

Yoongi pauses by the front door to assess him, raising a brow when he's able to take a look at Jimin's ensemble.

"Your glamour's solid," Yoongi replies, scanning him up and down. "Dressed up, huh?" He says it with a slight teasing lilt.

Jimin is decked out in fitted pants, a green turtleneck sweater under a black coat, his signature heeled boots, and one of his more expensive leather bags draped over his shoulder.

Jimin feigns ignorance as he looks down at himself.

"Oh, am I?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes and side steps him to slip out the front door, which opens and closes without any effort from either of them.

You don't want to talk about the dreams. They're nothing to worry about, really. Just a multitude of images and sounds and sensations. Some of them worse than others.

But even still, you don't want to talk about them.

Today, you're setting out for some more fieldwork, this time with Jimin the chemist adding to your bank of knowledge.

You pick up their coffee orders as well as some pastries from the cafe and head to the meeting site.

They're three minutes late, which you wouldn't have expected from Yoongi. Not to mention that they arrive together, cresting the hill and walking down the path like they came from the same place.

"Good morning," you greet them.

"It definitely is now," Jimin casually mumbles under his breath, but you still catch it. Yoongi does too, judging from the way his eyes widen ever so slightly ad his cheeks immediately flush.

You hand them their coffees, allowing yourself one (1) indulgent look at them before you focus your mind on work and not a pair of pretty faces.

Not that you've seen Jimin's full face. Again, he's wearing a black mask and tinted glasses, so really all you can see is his (absolutely cut) jawline, the curves and contours of his neck, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. But this time he's wearing a black pageboy hat that hides most of his silver hair, probably on account of the cold.

The fact that he looks like a goddamn model leaving his chic apartment in the middle of Paris fashion week doesn't help your one look rule.

So you look at Yoongi, and shit it does not help.

He's wearing black skinny jeans, an oversized black button up, and a pair of battered sneakers. This time, his elegant hands are adorned with a multitude of silver rings, bracelets glint around his wrists, and several sets of dangling earrings frame his face.

His hair is fluffy with a slight curl to it. Did...did he style it?

He must catch you staring at him, because then his hands are fidgeting and he's looking down at the ground.

Clearing your throat, you grab your notebook to look over your bullet points.

"Alright, to the lake," you break the silence, leading the way while chugging your coffee.

Now that you have a little more information on Sharon Mason's death, you can analyze the site with a fresh perspective. It is indeed cold, and the water is no doubt even colder.

You did a bit of research, and apparently some of the first signs of hypothermia are the "-umbles," i.e. stumbles, mumbles, and fumbles. Then, involuntary shivering, loss of motor functions, and—

"Do you think she was dead before she entered the water?" Yoongi asks suddenly.

You're doing it again, damnit. Working alone for so long has given you a habit of talking to yourself, and sometimes it's hard to know if you're doing it (very much out loud) without realizing, since no one is usually there to comment on it.

It doesn't help that the two men have already proven to be distracting enough.

"In my opinion, no," you answer. The autopsy report, as well as all of your research, flashes through your memory like so many sleepless nights.

"It's much more likely that the temperature of the water lead to her demise," you say, half to yourself. Because of the high thermal conductivity, hypothermia can occur twenty-four times faster in water than in the air. Even in non-freezing temperatures, hypothermia can cause death in as little as forty-five minutes.

"And in the moderate stage of hypothermia, one of the symptoms is irrational behavior. Like removing their clothes even though they're freezing," you rattle on, eyes on the dark undulating water of Lurking Lake.

Honestly, that's one of the only reasons you can think of as to why Mason entered the water of her own volition. Even if you were to entertain the notion of suicide, hypothermia is often a slow and painful process, and survival instincts are likely to kick in involuntarily.

But the toxicology report stated she wasn't under the influence of any alcohol or drugs that could've explained the odd behavior. It just doesn't make any damn sense.

"So," Jimin says softly, as if sensing your frustration. "What did you want me to look for?"

You shake your head to clear the cobwebs, taking a few more sips of coffee.

"Anything unusual when it comes to the lake environment," you answer. The lake happens to be the area you have the least expertise in, so you're hoping Jimin will be able to make up for it.

"Tell me about it," you invite, stepping forward to examine the waterline.

Looking at it again, you notice several things you hadn't before. There's the same curtain of fog, the same cattails and lily-pad-like plants poking to the surface, but there's also a little wooden dock a small distance away.

Almost unconsciously, you start to move towards it while Jimin and Yoongi follow dutifully.

"Well, you've probably heard that it's polluted," Jimin answers.

"So I've heard. Polluted how, exactly?" you press.

You're closer now, seeing that the little dock is half underwater, old and rotted.

"The real question is what isn't it polluted by, really," Jimin continues. "There's the lead poisoning, the PFASs, the—"

"The what?" you interrupt, rummaging around in your bag for something to write with.

A little glint sparks in Jimin's eyes, the rest of him visibly perking up.

"PFASs, or perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances, they're a subset of fluorinated chemicals, so they possess strong carbon-fluorine bonds—"

"Jimin, you don't need to go into detail..." Yoongi cuts in, but not in an annoyed way, more like he's anxious that you'll get annoyed.

"No, no, please go ahead," you encourage him, pen now poised over your notepad.

You can't see it, but Jimin smiles and blushes a bit under the mask.

"So, these are sometimes called "forever chemicals," because of their strong molecular bonds that can take hundreds of years to break down," he continues, with you one step behind him jotting everything down.

"Hmm, and I'm guessing you can find many of these "forever chemicals" in pesticides," you remark.

Another smile, this time from admiration, crosses Jimin's face.

"Correct."

While you were roaming around town to interview Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's family, you found out that many of the townsfolk use a heavy amount of pesticides and herbicides on their land. You're guessing because of the strange fungus and tree rot that's been rapidly spreading.

As the three of you roam the perimeter of the water, you listen to Jimin's explanation of the other types of pollution in the lake, from nutrient pollution (or an excessive amount of nitrogen and phosphorous that cause algal growth) and the increase of TDSs (or total dissolved solids, usually due to an increase in the saltiness of the water).

You ask Jimin to collect some samples so he can test the salinity and get a more accurate sense of what specific chemicals you're dealing with.

"What about the wildlife?" you ask, watching a few tiny fish squirm between the rocks.

There's that same twinkle in his eye as he gets into it.

"Well, there's actually a pretty invasive species of leech in this lake," he says, sounding like a kid in a candy store.

He explains that these leeches can grow up to twelve inches long (jesus christ), and while different species of leeches can feed on organic material or prey on other animals, this specific species is purely parasitic.

Yoongi wanders off to examine some of the outlying plants while Jimin excitedly rambles on, with you listening intently to every word.

He has a strangely melodic voice, sweet and smooth. It's a voice you feel like you could listen to for hours.

Apparently, leeches have a numbing agent in their saliva, so the host can't even tell when it's been bitten. They also release an anticoagulant, making the host's blood flow faster, so there's even a danger of excessive bleeding after the leech has detached.

"You're quite knowledgeable on the subject," you say, allowing your interest and admiration to shine through your voice.

Jimin shrugs it off modestly, turning to continue along the path.

"I have specific interests, I guess," he replies. "I wanted to head a research project on this location, but there wasn't enough funding."

"Ah, that's a shame," you say sincerely.

"Yoongi wanted to look deeper into the local plant life mutations, but again, lack of funding," Jimin adds.

"Really?" you respond, and something in your voice must betray the way your interest snags, because Jimin looks up at you like he let something slip.

Maybe that's why the mayor recommended him to you, maybe he contributed to the push for answers.

Jimin wanders off a bit, and yeah anybody who wants to judge you for staring at him can press charges.

It's just so easy to watch him when he's focused, Yoongi too for that matter. They always put their hands in their pockets and lean forward, head tilting to the side and eyes narrowing as they hone in on whatever they're examining.

Yoongi is collecting some more plant samples, his eyes narrowed in what looks like confusion.

Jimin is staring at a specific spot in the lake, towards the center but still visible from your position.

"See something?" you ask as you walk up to where he's standing, following his line of sight.

He points to the spot he's been staring at, and you have to lean forward and squint your eyes.

For a moment, you don't see anything, just dark water and fog. Jimin seems to notice, being as perceptive as he is.

"Unfocus your eyes a little, be openminded," Jimin whispers in your ear like it's a secret.

You do as he says. It takes you a few seconds, but then you see it. The top of a wooden post sticking up from the gentle waves. And when you look closer, you can see the top of a sign. Through the water, you can make out the words DEEP WATER.

"Huh," you let out. "So the water level is rising."

"It would appear so," Jimin replies, and something in his voice suggests that he's thinking hard.

He pulls a tupperware container from some secret pocket in his coat, snapping it open.

Your attention shifts between the algae covered rocks and the tadpoles just under the surface. Then you smell something sweet.

Another look at Jimin answers why. He's pulled his mask down and is nibbling at a cupcake with swirling frosting, flecks of pure vanilla visible even from where you're standing.

It tickles something in the back of your brain.

"I should get going," Yoongi says, checking his watch. It reminds Jimin to do the same thing.

"Yeah, me too," he adds, readjusting the mask back over his face.

You check the time. It's only two p.m. Though it is Wednesday, and you remember Yoongi having to head home at a certain time during your last outing.

"Okay," you reply, expertly hiding your slight disappointment at having your time with them cut short. Just because you're eager to work through this case. No other reason.

"Let me give you a ride," you offer while you put away your notes.

"Oh, that's okay, we'll walk," Yoongi is quick to reply. "It's not far."

They gather up their things, checking their watches often like they're late for something.

"I'll get started on those tests right away," Jimin assures you, and Yoongi gives you a shy little wave goodbye.

They start on the path together, walking almost shoulder to shoulder. You watch them go.

Just before they crest the hill and disappear among the trees, you see Jimin hold up the last bite of his cupcake up to Yoongi's mouth, who takes the offering like it's second nature.

They seem to move like the tide, pushing and pulling effortlessly as if they've known each other for years. Maybe they have, it's not like you know a lot about them.

You resume your work feeling only a little hollow inside.

october 15, 2004

The next day, you're still feeling a little empty and aimless. So you go to your favorite place in town: Magic Shop Books and Oddities.

Namjoon sits behind the desk, wearing a collared shirt under a knit sweater. There's an open book in his hands, titled Morbid Fears and Curious Compulsions.

You allow yourself to watch him for a short moment, admiring how his eyes dart around the page, how he clenches his jaw occasionally when he comes to a difficult passage.

After a while, he looks up and realizes that you're there. He doesn't even flinch at the fact that you've been watching him. A warm smile crosses his face, one that makes his cheeks crease and his dimples pop out (and oh my god is he stunning).

"Hello," he greets you in that velvet voice. "Need help finding anything?"

And as much as you enjoy his company and expertise, you aren't here for research.

"I'm just browsing today, thanks," you reply, returning his smile.

You wander around for a bit, exploring more of the nooks and crannies that make this place so charming. You come across a narrow staircase towards the back of the shop, with a little sign pointing up and stating Poetry Upstairs ↑.

You start to ascend, feet padding on the rug which has been trodden on so much that the wood of the stairs is exposed through the tears in the material.

More shelves and oddities await. It's nice to browse the tomes aimlessly, giving yourself a little break from the constant tension of mapping out the case files in your head.

There's some taxidermy animals (a raccoon playing poker, a squirrel smoking a cigar), a rack of dusty, frayed vinyl records. There's even a little corner with some displayed apparel, fur coats and vintage dresses and old lace.

You comb through the racks, curiosity drawing you towards something unnamed but still itching under your skin. Then, you find an authentic leather jacket. The inner lining is a more warm material, perfect for cold weather, and the inside is crowded with little symbols stitched into the fabric.

You try it on and look in the antique mirror leaning against the wall. It's perfectly oversized, comfortable and practical. You look for a price tag but find nothing.

"How much?" you ask Namjoon when you descent back down to the counter.

He gives the jacket a once-over.

"Twenty bucks?" he says.

"What?!" you blurt out before you can help it. A piece like this go easily go for a hundred, not to mention all the detailing.

"No way, fifty at least," you respond. Namjoon's eyes widen a bit.

"That's very generous, but you don't have to—"

"It's you that's the generous one," you interrupt. "Fifty then, alright?"

A glint of stubbornness lights in his brown eyes. Luckily, you've been stubborn since the day you took your first breath.

"Thirty-five," he counters.

"Forty-five."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Thirty-seven ninety-nine?"

You tilt your chin up in consideration.

"Fine," you say, reaching for your wallet.

He smiles triumphantly as he rings you up. As he's placing the jacket into a bag, you pretend to notice something on the shelf behind him.

"Is that real amber?" you ask, and he turns his head to what you're pointing at. You slip several bills, enough to cover the difference, into the tip jar while his back is turned.

"Yes it is!" he answers proudly when he turns back around, and his visible joy is enough to spark something in the depths of your stomach.

"Interesting," you reply, grabbing the bag and your receipt.

After you've left through the front door, Namjoon glances at the tip jar with a barely concealed grin.

"Sneaky little thing."

october 17, 2004

You're sitting in the cafe with a fresh cup of coffee and a square of cheesecake to snack on when Jimin and Yoongi enter the establishment.

Still the epitome of sleek grace, they are both dressed in black.

Jimin is decked out in a leather trench coat, wearing the same heeled boots, his hair tucked into a black cap and his face obscured by another mask. A messenger bag is slung over his shoulder, which he cradles like the contents are more precious than gold.

Yoongi is wearing an oversized coat and a bucket hat, the same skinny jeans hugging his slim legs. And no, you're not going to apologize for staring this time.

And neither is anybody else, apparently. Because every patron in the cafe has looked up, and is staring just as intently at the two men.

But Jimin pays them no mind, scanning the room like he's looking for something. He finds it when his gaze lands on your face, which is (embarrassingly) already looking at them.

He takes it as an invitation, approaching the booth you're sitting at with determination, pulling Yoongi along with him.

"Hello, ______. Mind if we join you?" he asks, though it's less of a question and more of a statement.

They sink down across from you, Jimin emptying the contents of his bag. Yoongi turns to go to the counter, muttering something about getting a coffee. Heads turn to watch him go.

Jimin spreads his notes across the surface of the table. Then he flashes three test tubes before your eyes, held between his fingers.

"See anything interesting?" he asks a little playfully.

One test tube contains clear liquid, one contains a slightly murkier liquid with sediment floating inside, and one contains a greenish sludge.

"I don't know what I'm looking at," you admit.

"This," he says, pointing to the one with the relatively clear liquid. "Is a sample taken just after we arrived at the lake. It falls under the category of slightly saline water, around 2,000 ppm."

"Ppm?" you cut in.

"Parts per million," he answers helpfully, and that's one of the things you like about Jimin. Even though he's an apparent "genius," as Yoongi put it, he never sounds condescending. He answers any and all of your questions clearly and happily.

"This is pretty normal for lake water, especially a closed body of water like Lurking Lake."

You tilt your head slightly to the side, not quite familiar with the details of a "closed body of water," and Jimin catches it instantly.

"Oh, so lakes that are formed from rivers and streams will have a constant flow of water coming in, right? But the water level of closed lakes tend to decrease because of evaporation. As a result, the salinity often increases because the freshwater is evaporating away."

"Okay, so what you're telling me is this is perfectly normal sample," you say.

"Yes, but," Jimin begins. "This one is a water sample taken just before we left the lake, so roughly an hour later."

He holds up the slightly murkier water.

"This water is highly saline, around 30,000 ppm. That's almost as much as the damn ocean."

Yoongi returns just as you try to wrap your head around what he's implying. Iced Americano for Yoongi, and a caramel latte and vanilla scone for Jimin, though you don't remember Jimin telling him his order. Maybe they do know each other that well.

"So," you start, still confused. "Two samples from the same source, but one is freshwater and one is saltwater?"

"Exactly," Jimin confirms. He lowers his mask to gnash at his vanilla scone, and you see a flash of his (the only word to describe it is luscious) lips before they are hidden again.

"That's..." you want to say impossible, but your previous work has proven that almost nothing is actually so. "Highly unusual."

You don't see it, too busy looking down at the surface of the table deep in thought, but the two men give you a look of respect for your specific word choice. Because if any other group of people in this town know that nothing is truly impossible, it's them.

"What about that one?" you ask, gesturing to the test tube with the seaweed-colored sludge.

"Ah! Now this," Jimin starts excitedly, holding up the glass so the strange stuff inside can catch the light.

"This is an isolation of the lake's main sources of pollution," he explains.

A chuckle escapes from Yoongi, making you whip around to look at him.

"Oh yeah, he stayed up all night with Melancholia, testing away," Yoongi quips fondly.

"Melancholia?" you can't help but ask. Sounds like a girlfriend.

A fierce blush flames across Jimin's face, you can tell because it reaches all the way up to his forehead.

"My microscope," he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

And is it adorable that Jimin has named a piece of his equipment? Yes, of course it is.

You offer him a non-judgemental smile, and he visibly eases up.

"Anyways, this is an amalgamation of all the substances polluting the lake. High concentrations of lead, nitrogen and phosphorous from the algae, and TDSs, though we know that's from the salinity. And I found a high number of synthetic surfactants," Jimin continues.

"Explain to me what that means?" you reply curiously, igniting the same little spark in Jimin's eyes when he gets to talk about the ins and outs of chemistry.

And the more you see that look on his face, the more you want to act clueless just so he has an opportunity to express it.

"So, a surfactant is a substance that tends to reduce the surface tension of the liquid it's dissolved in. These are most likely found in cleaning products and detergents, since their molecules break down the surface tension of water in order to allow the product to spread out and clean better, as well as attaching to dirt particles and rinsing away grease more easily."

"Okay," you say, nodding as you follow along.

"But most surfactants are skin, eye, and respiratory irritants. Carcinogens, sometimes even.”

“Okay,” you say, not sure where he is going with this.

“So, your latest victim, Sharon Mason, her body should’ve reflected the effects of these toxins since she was in the water for several weeks.”

“Hmm,” you mutter. Another mystery. You would think that Mason’s body was encased in time given how little it was disturbed.

“Could that have contributed to why she was practically untouched by the local wildlife? They could smell all the toxins in her body?” you ask.

Jimin shrugs like you’re not quite on the right track.

“Maybe, but there’s a hell of a lot more toxins in the water than there probably was in Mason’s body. Really, it’s a miracle there’s any wildlife in the lake at all,” he says.

You sip at your coffee contemplatively.

“Yoon, tell her what you found,” Jimin encourages, turning to his companion.

Yoongi clears his throat and spreads out some of his notes.

“So, you know how I mentioned that the flora in Ulthar's Grove looked dehydrated despite all the recent rainfall?" Yoongi begins.

"Uh huh." You nod along, listening intently.

"Well, the flora around the lake is not only severely dehydrated, it's dying from salt poisoning."

"Salt poisoning?" you inquire.

"Yeah, so not only does too much salt affect osmosis and draw water from the plant, it can also interfere with the chemical processes used to convert sugars into nutrients."

"Acid rain?" you think out loud, but Yoongi gives a little head shake.

"Not likely. Damage like this is almost always caused by absorption through the soil, since most plants don't absorb much from their leaves and stems."

You sink back in your seat. Fungi, tree rot, lake pollution, salt poisoning. It seems like the more you try to find solutions, the more problems you unearth. Nothing but fragments of death and decay.

You're tired today.

"So, what's next, boss?" Jimin says, voice light like he's trying to cheer you up.

"What could be causing such high concentrations of salt?" you ask to no one in particular.

"Well, a number of things," Yoongi answers. "Wastewater, excess fertilizer, mining and oil extraction."

"So mainly man-made problems," you interrupt. Yoongi offers that straight-mouthed smile.

"Unfortunately, most of the environmental problems that exist today are man-made," he supplies.

You let out a slight huff. You'll have to speak with the mayor to report your most recent findings. Now that you think about it, you remember some of your research on decomposition stating that bodies decay much slower in salt water. Maybe that was the main reason why Mason's body was so preserved.

But why the fuck would the water measure fresh at one point in time and almost as salty as the damn ocean in another?

"Fuck me blue," you sigh to yourself.

Jimin bursts out laughing just as he goes in for another bite of scone, and you thought you see a flash of sharp teeth. He's covering his mouth with his hand before you can be sure.

"Anyways, I've gotta get going," you say, gathering your things, missing the slightly disappointed look from both men as you do so.

"I guess I should get to studying too," Yoongi mutters, sticking headphones into his ears.

"Thank you both for your help, I really appreciate it," you say earnestly, giving both of them a grateful look.

"Of course! Let us know if there's anything else we can help with," Jimin replies, and you can see that he's smiling because of the ways his eyes crinkle above his mask.

You can't help but glance back at Yoongi as you're leaving, as he's diving into a boring-looking science book. It's then that you notice the little chunks of chocolate that he's spread out over the page, like it's a little reward for getting though the tedious reading.

Another tickle in the back of your brain. It's the one you feel when you feel like you're missing a connection, when you're debating on if one of the many innocuous details you can never seem to ignore are important or not.

You're aware again of the several pairs of eyes that are attached to Yoongi, most of them belonging to University students.

Why are they looking at him like that?

You've never been able to hold back the beast that is curiosity, so when you exit the cafe you linger by the entrance, waiting. Not long after, a handful of students leave with their coffees and treats now in to-go containers.

"Excuse me," you say in your best non-confrontational voice.

They stop and turn. Recognition glints in one of the young woman's eyes.

"Hey, you're the journalist, right?" she asks.

Your first thought is that word certainly travels in this town. The second is perfect, run with it!

"Yes, I am," you reply, letting yourself sound a little more official. "I was wondering if I could get a few comments. You'll be credited, of course."

They comply more easily than you would've thought, given the hesitancy of the other small town inhabitants. But then again, these were college students.

You ask them about the three decedents, then about the five missing persons. They tell you more of what you already know, but you have to cover all your bases.

Though, some of them claim that there was barely any press coverage, while some claim there was some tabloid-like slander.

When you've got the formalities out of the way, you get to the questions you really want to ask. Closing your notepad, as if to say "this is off the record," you ask,

"So what's the deal with him?" You nod your head in Yoongi's direction.

"He's a complete freak," one of them quips almost immediately, and it takes you aback.

"Yeah, he lives in that creepy house on the hill," another one supplies.

"He...doesn't really interact with anyone at the university," one of them says more hesitantly. "And he talks to himself. Like a lot."

Talks to himself or talks to his plants, you wonder.

"He's just got bad vibes, like the rest of them."

That makes you pause.

"The rest of them?" you ask.

"Yeah, there's like seven of them that live up there. All creeps, if you ask me."

You've heard enough. Clicking your pen sharply, you straighten and offer them a tight-lipped smile.

Because yes, Yoongi is a little unusual, but you don't care for people who talk that way about people they don't really know. Or maybe it's because you've been called a creep one too many times. It makes you want to show them just how creepy you can truly be.

"Thank you for your time," you say, turning and leaving them standing there on the sidewalk.

october 18, 2004

It's easier to just avoid sleep. If you don't sleep, then you won't dream.

You've been particularly agitated. Maybe it was from the encounter with the college students yesterday.

You like Yoongi and Jimin, they remind you of you. So it's a little disheartening to find out that the townsfolk don't take kindly to that type of person.

And you've hit a bit of a mental dead end with Sharon Mason. More research, more deep-diving, and you can't come up with a practical reason for what led to her death, and what happened to her body afterwards.

Now, as a private investigator, you've come across many cases that resulted in lackluster, disappointing, or downright depressing conclusions.

The unfortunate reality is that humanity, including many of the things they've invented, is a disease. Religion, tradition, social constructs, willful ignorance, they're all the main purveyors of cruelty.

But that same annoying part of your brain, tucked into the furthermost back corner, won't let you let go of the notion that something is unusual about everything here. Something that cannot be explained by conventional methods.

You take an afternoon to decompress by the lake. Even though it was the location of a mysterious death and several strange anomalies, you can't help but feel that the atmosphere is somehow peaceful.

Okay, maybe you are genuinely weird.

The swirling fog is almost hypnotizing, the chill is invigorating, and you enjoy watching all the little squirming fish in the shallows. You even brought a little packed lunch and thermos of hot, frothy coffee.

It's as you're sitting along the shoreline that something unusual happens.

One moment, the air smells of musky lake water, algae and rotting wood. The next, the brisk, biting wind of the sea is whipping through your hair.

The water appears less green and more deep blue. When you look back at the shallows, they no longer house tadpoles, but anemones and small starfish.

You only hesitate a moment before you're reaching in your bag for a sample container, using a pair of tweezers to pluck up some of the organisms.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, mind reeling with possible explanations. You don't come up with many.

When you look back up at the water, a pale hand is sticking up from the gentle waves. It's held out to you, fingers curling slightly, beckoning.

Your stomach nearly falls out of your ass. The hand is only a few meters away, though you can't see anything beneath it given the darkness of the water.

A second, maybe two, though it feels like your breath has been stolen for several minutes.

The hand folds inward, and this time it's an unmistakable invitation.

Less than a blink later it's gone. The water is back to its sickly green color, and the scent of moss and festering wood is back.

Hands shaking, you linger long enough to seal the specimen container and stow it safely in your bag, then you get the hell out of there.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! I would be your best friend forever if you’d be so kind as to share some of your thoughts on the chapter! shit is starting to go down!!

NEXT UPDATE: ??

[rax-writes]

Rolan x Reader

↬ Warnings: afab!reader, she/her pronouns for reader, mentions of breastfeeding and some old coot being uppity about it, protective!Rolan

↬ This is the brain rot result of @drizztdohurtin and I discussing proective!Rolan. Hope y'all enjoy, Rolan Nation. Love y'all. ♡

Sorcerous Sundries was thronged with customers, and it seemed every one of them had a question they only wished to ask the Master of the Tower himself. Rolan did well with maintaining his pleasant demeanor, even after he finished speaking to the third person in a row who struggled with the somatic components of simple spells. Regardless of how trivial the questions, or how dense the customers, Rolan thoroughly enjoyed his job. After all, this was everything he'd dreamed of, and more.

The company he kept in the shop area of the Sundries on this particular day helped as well.

Naturally, the brief moment to himself was snatched away by a customer approaching Rolan – albeit looking considerably more agitated than the others, but not a sight he was unfamiliar with.

Ah, the joys of customer service.

“I'd like to speak with the manager of this establishment,” the middle-aged woman stated, the deep frown set upon her features making her wrinkles all the more noticeable.

“You're looking at him. How might I assist you?” Rolan asked calmly, giving her the same kind smile he gives everyone in the Sundries.

“I have been here many times over the past few decades, and never before have I had any concerns about the atmosphere or decorum. Until today. And I must say, I am downright appalled.”

Rolan's smile faded. Gods, had Cal or Lia gotten cross with a rude customer and swore at them? Or maybe something simpler – like one of the newer employees guided her in the wrong direction?

“I am grateful you have come to me about this, so that I have the opportunity to right whatever wrong has occurred. Could you tell me more about what happened?” Rolan asked sincerely.

“Yes. I simply cannot believe the indecency you would allow in a place of such esteemed business. For the sake of the gods, that – that harlot over there is lounging about, exposed.”

Rolan's brows furrowed in genuine confusion, as he swiveled his entire body around to examine the space. The only person seated, on the entire ground floor, was you. His wife. Who just so happened to be breastfeeding his son.

You smiled at him when you caught his eye, confused when he did not return it. Instead, your husband's expression soured, before he returned his attention to the woman in front of him.

“Are you referring to the woman on the settee, feeding her baby?”

“Why, yes I am. That is indecent. She should be covered up, or in a washroom. Or, better yet, she should have left and gone home to do that!”

“She is here because this is her home,” Rolan said, slowly and carefully, attempting to conceal the intense irritation he felt. The woman appeared confused, until Rolan spoke again. “Ignoring the fact that she is the Hero of Baldur's Gate, and you should show her due respect – she is my wife, and she is feeding my son. I hardly see how that is indecent.”

“Well, she – it – that isn't something she should be doing in public! You ought to tell her to go elsewhere,” the woman sputtered, crossing her arms.

“The only person I'll be telling to go elsewhere is you, madam.” The woman sputtered some more, alternating between halved arguments and requests for forgiveness, but Rolan merely held up a hand, effectively silencing her. “Please leave this establishment at once. Should you wish to return with a kinder demeanor, you are welcome here. If not, do not bother coming back. Have the day the gods see fit to bestow upon you.”

Rolan turned on his heel and walked away then, noticing the woman huffing but leaving from his peripheral vision, as he made his way over to you. He sat beside you on the settee, a beaming smile quickly replacing his scowl as you handed him the baby, having just finished feeding and burping him.

“What was all that about? That woman looked positively irate,” you inquired with a chuckle.

Rolan merely shook his head, placing a gentle kiss between the still-tiny nubs of his son's horns, then giving you a quick kiss.

“Nothing of importance, my love.”

[shifterin]

CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN AN ERIN FLETCHER AND DEREK HALE, APRIL OF 2007

Dear Erin,

I missed our call, I'm sorry. Peter's been paranoid again, he made me toss out my cell. I've been trying to tell him that the Argent's are hunters, not the CIA. You know as well as I do just how stubborn he can be. I thought about using a payphone, but then I'd have to worry about a time limit and random bystanders listening in. So, I'm writing you a letter like I'm your husband that's been drafted to fight in the war. Which, I guess that much is true. I mean the war part, not that I'm your husband. Sorry. I can practically see the look on your face now. At least I'm too far away to have to endure your glare.

... I miss you, you know? I know it's selfish to say, but I really wish you were here. It's no way for anyone to live, much less someone like you. We never settle down for longer than a few weeks, we're always running. I don't even know if they're actually tracking us, but if we stay long enough to find out, we'll be dead. Peter wakes up screaming most night. He dreams about the fire. So do I. On good nights I just dream about you. So, I guess you are here with me in some ways. It's a poor substitute for the real thing, though. Maybe you can visit sometime? During the summer so you don't have to miss school. Would Matthias allow that? I think Peter would like to see you too, no matter what he says.

Love From, Derek

...

Dear Derek,

It's good to hear from you, I thought something might've happened. Yes, I do worry about you from time to time. You know that. Don't laugh. Peter's right to be careful, You shouldn't take any risks, okay? I don't think the Argent's are keeping an eye on me, so sending letters should be fine. For now, at least. If it seems like they're looking my way, I won't write back to you. That'll be your sign to not send any more letters. I don't know why they're not watching me, isn't that strange? If they were keeping tabs on you, they must know how much time I spent with your family. Maybe it's because of Matt, I think they're afraid to take on someone that has the ammo to fight back.

Derek, I'd be with you right now if he would let me. He thinks it's too dangerous. He took my keys, so I can't even sneak out. I've tried to bargain with him, I've pleaded, he won't listen. I'll keep trying, though, I promise. I hate that I'm not there. I should've left with you. I don't care about school, not when you and Peter are actively fighting for your lives. How am I supposed to pretend everything is normal? I could deal with being a werewolf because I had you, and you made it normal. Now, everything's gone. I have to live with the fact that those bastards are still here in our town, acting like they're not murderers. Look, just stay alive, okay? Focus on yourself, don't worry about writing me, not if you're unsure if it's safe to. I'll still be here whenever you get back to me... and I miss you, too.

From, Erin

very very inspired by this post and this one. thought i'd try my hand at it for my teen wolf dr <3