#⌈ inbox. ⌋ — “ to what do i owe the pleasure. ”

[ofveneers]

@for-the-better-and-worse said.

"Ramwing. How... pleasant. To finally be meeting you."

⌈ Ramwing has been looking forward to this meeting. It was only a matter of time before Iacon finally deigned to reach out to the growing power of Protihex. A pleasant smile spreads on his face when he sees Prowl.

" Please, the pleasure is all mine. I love your work, by the way. Big fan of all your, " he makes a motion with his fingers like a gun. There is a glint of mockery behind his false demeanor.

" I'm glad you've invited me here. I was wondering when there might be some outreach. " His eyes flit to the side, the direction, if he's not mistaken, his wayward protege is hidden. " Oh, and do call down your dog. We needn't make this an unpleasant ordeal. I only want what's best for our people. " ⌋

[jyoongim]

Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back. 

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby” 

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

[rookiesbookies]

mischievous COD ideas😈

Heavily pregnant reader knowing that her hubby doesn’t want to be rough in the slightest with her due to her pregnancy and refrains from punishing her, so she abuses that fully to be a brat

To my sweet sweet brat reader, Im sorry if this is not all you hoped as I am a resident good girl. The one time I was a brat I got degraded (“such a good bitch”) and cried. I hope I do a good job portraying the relationships, if I dont let me know and I will edit it or rewrite sections that dont fit. You also didn’t specify so imma write for my usual set of lovelies. (Im also added Krueger because I’ve recently fallen in love with him a lil bit and he kinda fits thi)

The boys with pregnant brat wife

Price

This man is too worried about helping you get your shoes on. “You’re pregnant, isn’t not being able to see your feet punishment enough?” He’s not going to do much other than pinching you. Whether it’s your ass or your arm, and they’re hard “i had to discipline Soap subtly and im a dad” pinches. He’ll also use pressure points. Give the back of your arm the good pinch and twist. He’s just trying not to take it personally.

Soap

He’s googled what positions he can put you in. He’s googled if its safe for the baby. He has googled what he can and cannot do. He has spoke with your doctors about it, as embarrassing as that phone call was. And for certain punishments, its a long game. Like holding your ice cream you crave hostage until you learn. If he can’t make it sexual, he’ll find other ways.

Ghost

Like Price, he’s also using pressure points. Not the ones that knock you out but the ones that feel weird or make you got “ow”. Cannot get hard and it’s not because you’re not hot its bc he literally gets more flaccid than a limp noodle at the thought of possibly hurting that baby. He’s also very good at holding grudges and every time you brat out and walk all over him, he’s making a note on his phone for later.

Konig

Oh but he just got you to whine and cry you admit you want his cock. He knew eventually he could wait out your little game. “You acted out and now you must wait until I want to give it to you. You ask so nicely though, keep trying. I like when you beg.” He’s so mean, he’d make you wait until after you gave birth and however many times you acted out is how many weeks (or months depending on how he’s feeling) after you have to wait to get any pleasure from him.

Keegan

your toys aren’t doing it for you anymore? Nope. He’ll keep fluttering his fingers over you figure and let you use that tiny dildo he got you that cant even stretch you like he can. That’s all you get. His hands wont even go lower than your waist. They wont even touch close to your nipples. This is real torture. Every orgasm is so unfulfilling. I feel bad for you really. Hope this teaches you.

Gaz

He’s a doormat anyway. I don’t see him punishing anyone. He’s too much of a gentleman. I do believe he’d pull orgasm after orgasm out of you casually when you act up with his hands. Never giving you his dick as much as you beg. Pleading, crying for it, he wont budge. No you can deal with the consequences of your actions while he sits here and watches this movie. “Why aren’t you watching, love? You picked the movie. No, no, stop your whining, just sit and watch.”

Krueger

Sebastian doesn’t care. He’ll find other ways. Like right now you’re legs spread and hands flat against the wall as he spanks your ass, every time he does you have to say thank you and apologize for snapping at him. He knows you’re hormonal, but he’s going to make you apologize. Oh and he’s kissing away those tears and asking you if you understand what you do wrong while running you a nice bath and all the rubs and lotion for your poor butt.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[house-strong]

— THE COMMANDER’S tryst ʾ ⋆

summary ; requested by anon.

“can you write some targaryen!princess getting married to harwin strong? maybe a younger sister to rhaenyra and maybe because she’s the second child to the king she’s put into the background but harwin is just utterly devoted to her.”

pairing ; targaryen!reader x pre-established!harwin strong

notes ; when i tell you i screamed when i saw this in my inbox …. devoted harwin is my weakness,, i just know he’s a giver.

“my princess,” a baritone voice slices the silence that’s settled in the air. you know his voice all too well and the mere title sends a warm chill down your spine, stopping you in your tracks.

you spin on your heel with practiced movement, silver wisps of hair dancing in the air and gown flowing with life. you’re greeted by a pair of warm, round eyes and brown tussles of hair that you have both grown too fond of. he’s wearing the garments of a courtly lord; clothes of leather topped with a cape and adorned with house strong blue. it’s strange to see him in this attire, but it’s a lovely sight indeed.

“ser harwin,” you greet, hands moving behind your back as the pair of you close the gap between each other. once you are close enough, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

he takes a moment to drink in your appearance; famous silver hair in neat plaits and fashioned into a popular southern hairstyle that he had grown to like, a red dress with wide sleeves, and gold jewelry to match your skin. he sucks in a quiet breath – gods, how beautiful you looked.

he surveys the dim-lit hallway, carefully examining if there were any one to see or hear what was about to transpire. he suddenly grasps your arm with his gloved hand and pulls you into the nearby room. you don’t have enough time to react, but you feel the press of your back against a wooden door and soft, warm lips against your own.

you melt into the kiss and return it happily, a sigh falling from your mouth when you part. although it’s short lived, you can’t help but hold on to the lingering buzz of ecstasy on your lips. your eyes flutter open and notice how visibly dark it is, though, you can make the faint outline of ser harwin’s face. you raise a hand and gently caress his cheek; he responds by closing his eyes and leaning into your touch.

“i’ve missed you,” he starts, opening his eyes after a moment as he holds the wrist of the hand that’s touching his cheek. he moves your hand just enough to give the palm a kiss. his hands move to your own face, gently moving your hair behind your shoulders. he leans in and kisses your forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of perfume that lingered in the air around you. ser harwin was obsessed. “i’m sorry that i haven’t had the time to see you,” he pauses, “it was never the right moment.”

“and i’ve missed you,” you respond, eyes fluttering as you stare up at the knight in front of you once he pulls away. a smile reaches his eyes, one that you can’t help but return. “it’s alright, i thought that would’ve been the problem. but, we’re here now, aren’t we?”

you move to your tippytoes, hands against harwin’s chest for support as you lean up to kiss his cheek. your hand grazes against the clothing, making a beeline for his shoulders. your hands find his hair and tug at the curls with refined gentleness.

ser harwin hums, “not here, my love. i have some news i’d like to share.” this gains your interest, so you halt your advances and retreat, returning to lean against the door. you relax and your hands find the strap of his scabbard, tugging at it playfully.

“and that is?”

the knight clears his throat and moves away from you, too distracted by the small advancements you were making. he thinks for a moment, deciding how he would share the conversation he had with his lord father, lyonel strong. he thought that the outcome was a great idea, but was nervous to hear your response. he had hoped your devotion would match his.

“my father has suggested that i take a wife, seeing as i will inherit harrenhal someday. i agreed, and i’ve asked for you. he will meet with the king and ask for our betrothal.”

the words that fall from his lips churn your belly into a euphoric bliss, a long-awaited pleasantry that you would both now be able to enjoy. to hold hands in public, to stop the secret meetings (although they were an adrenaline rush and you loved the dirtiness of it), and to officially be his and him yours. you didn’t care for castles, being royalty, or the political aspect of it – you weren’t rhaenyra, thankfully, and was subjugated to more lenient terms of being a targaryen princess.

you can’t help but laugh in joy. your hands meet together at your mouth, your lips parted in awe as you try to make full sense of the situation. you were so sure your father would say yes. ser harwin was a respectable man, handsome, and strong, with a reputation as a knight. although he did have the ruins of harrenhal, you were sure that together you could make it home. you return from your thoughts when you see ser harwin cross the room in a few strides and kneel to the floor in front of you.

“it’s always been you,” he breathes, hands cupping your hips. he looks up, eyes wide with hope, love, and adoration. this was what you loved about him. the devotion, the unwavering loyalty – the never ending hope that this would turn out into something more than a midnight tryst. harwin feels as if he could cough out his stomach, though, he’d do that and so much more if it meant he had the privilege of calling you his lady-wife.

a shiver runs through ser harwin, despite the warmth that radiated between the two of you. he’s overjoyed at the position reaction you had given him, and the onslaught of emotions leaves him sick to his stomach. he exhales slowly to quell the feeling before rising to his feet.

“before the new moon rises, we shall be husband and wife.”

and he was right.

within the fortnight, lyonel strong remained faithful to his son and visited the king in his private quarters. the hand had given the king his proposition; his son, ser harwin, married to his daughter, the younger targaryen princess. your father didn’t let a moment pass before he had said yes. he, if not everyone, had noticed the longing gaze and lingering touches that mingled between you and ser harwin, the bare signs of obvious and mutual attraction was evident and reminded him of himself and his late wife, queen aemma.

if rhaenyra couldn’t find happiness within the men in the realm, then perhaps you shall.

a royal wedding was no easy event to miss – the festivities lasted for almost fortnight, and the bells of king’s landing had rung for what seems like an entirety of the month.

the actual wedding was stunning, an event taken out from the writings of fairytales. a mixture of reds, blues, and gold had adorned every tapestry that was strung along the streets. great houses from across the southern plains, and even some from the northern realm, had gathered to watch the commencement of yourself and ser harwin. your dress was a beautiful sight – a vibrant blue gown adorned with trinkets and jewelries. lace detailing gave the dress more depth and the house sigils of house targaryen and house strong were embroidered on your shoulders. a dark, free-flowing cape had followed your figure as you were walked down the aisle.

and in front of a weirwood tree and maester, as house strong had followed the faith of the seven, was your marriage to ser harwin made.

the road to harrenhal was sweet and short, a journey that didn’t even last a fortnight. though in some ruin, the castle of harrenhal was majestic with towering walls that seemed to touch the sky. blackened stone shone fierce against the strength of the sun and scaffolds lined the castle walls. ser harwin had mentioned that him and his father were overseeing a project to restore the castle to a shadow of its former glory. this was now your home.

as your party enters, the people of harrenhal had make quick work to tidy the castle and string festivities up on the walls. they were excited to greet the future lord and lady of their province and they made sure to voice their support of your marriage. when you stopped at the steps to the heart of the castle, stewards seem to come out from the shadow and aid you – keeping your horse still and bringing a small step stool to aid your descent from your horse.

ser harwin takes your hand and climbs the steps with you, his other hand carefully rubbing your back. the knight is more than excited to have you here – here in the place that he and his family had called theirs.

“you know,” he says under his breath, the air fanning the side of you cheek to show how close he is. you turn your head and look at him. you can’t help but notice the obvious desire and mischief that seemed to bring his warm eyes to life. “if they don’t know your name now, they will after tonight.”

the mere sentence is enough to make your knees weak and cause a blush to highlight the fullness of your cheeks. ser harwin was everything more of an affectionate lover. he knew everything and more on how to make your toes curl and turn your soft moans of delight into a cry of pleasure.

“ser harwin,” you warn, a grin causing your lips to part to reveal your teeth. crows feet gathers at the corners of his eyes and harwin is far from being accustomed to the beauty of your face. he reaches behind your head and pulls a pin or two out, causing the curls of your once intricate hairstyle of twists and turns to turn into nothing more than a braid followed by a wave of white. he decides that he likes your hair this way the most.

“lady-wife,” he counters back, pressing into you close before placing a delicate, yet passionate kiss on to your lips. his arm wraps around you and gives you stability against his weight. passion turns to desire and his wandering hand starts to become noticeable. you pull away despite the tingling sensation that slowly started to develop.

“husband, i don’t think it’s appropriate to subjugate your people to watch us in these halls.” the new use of husband doesn’t fail to make you giddy.

harwin shakes his head, tufts of hair bouncing as kisses your cheek, then your jaw, “yes, here.” once he notices that his affections aren’t being returned, he smiles innocently at the expression on your face. “our people,” he corrects.

his hand slides into yours and he leads you to the fine chambers. he pushes the door open and you both are greeted by royal chests that held your personal belongings and gifts for your marriage. harwin is quick to reach the bed and he turns with a playful grin on his lips.

“shall we?”

your ever devoted husband kept his promise. from that night, every steward and castle-worker made sure to call you ‘lady strong’ and ‘princess’, as their lord’s son had that night.

[twistedlovelines]

Part two of the sub sebek post 👉👈 (same person who asked last time, was gonna ask sooner but I forgot...if you can do some more intended for male readers I'd be delighted and will owe you my soul, lungs, kidneys and eyes. It's okay if not though, you can still get my soul)

Have a lovely day/night

Sub! Sebek with a M! Reader (18+, MDNI)

Sub! Sebek, oral, (reader giving) anal,  fingering (m! receiving), creampie,  m! Human! Reader 

Service. Sub.

He's far too prideful to initiate a quickie, but he'll shoot you desperate gazes the whole day in the hopes you understand his meaning. A firmer-than-necessary squeeze on your shoulder or waist as he moves past you, letting out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan when you pin him down during training, etc.

Genuinely loves being between your thighs and serving you. He doesn’t have to worry about anything but your pleasure during this time, and he trusts you wholly, allowing him to relax and let his worries slip away with every thrust in his mouth. 

While he’s more focused on your pleasure at first, he does enjoy being the target of your affections in private (key word: private- he can’t handle too much PDA and prefers to show more overt forms of affection in private because it feels more genuine). 

Generally, he’s never really cared much for exploring his own body and preferred to take care of things as quickly as possible (aka getting off by his own hand). He’s not familiar with toys, and never really seeks them out unless you introduce them to him ^^

As a result, he's quite nervous the first time you play with his ass and penetrate him. He's tense!! Anal in general requires the receiver to be relaxed, but Sebek in particular is so wound up that you need to work him through an orgasm or two before you can even insert a finger.

When you’re able to work your way up to stuff him with your cock, he’s wonderfully prepped for you. His hair is completely disheveled, his calloused hands having run through it in (failed) attempts to reign in his reactions. Spread completely for you, his cock is erect, leaning over his stomach as the flushed pink tip drips with pre-cum.  “Well? What are you waiting for, human?” He snarls breathlessly.  Frankly, it comes out weaker than he intended, but he can’t quite get himself to care. His nipples are sore from how you had toyed with them earlier, and he can feel himself clenching around nothingness as you pump yourself a few times before lining up with his hole. 

As much as you try to ease yourself into him, Sebek can’t help but gasp at how full he feels whenever you fuck into him, and tends to hook his legs around you in response, wanting to feel as close to you as possible.

He cums fairly quickly given how overwhelming this experience is for him the first time, but he finds it a waste for you to allow your cum to leak out of him, so he whines and tugs you closer after you cum inside of him <3

Sebek finds himself surprisingly clingy after sex- even as you both give aftercare and collect yourselves. He can’t help but want to hold you close after such intimacy, and you’re happy to reciprocate.

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated <3 requests are closed right now, but feel free to brainrot about any ideas or ask for me 2 elaborate in my inbox <33

[orphic-musings]

The warmth was never yours to begin with

Characters: Alhaitham x gn!reader, slight Kaveh x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, hurt (only slight comfort?)

Warnings: Some swear words, bittersweet ending

Summary: Spending time as Alhaitham’s unofficial assistant, you’re bound to be affected by his unfairly beautiful appearance. But is his aloofness disinterest, or do you even stand a chance in the first place?

Notes: This was randomly in my drafts and I had never posted it? Sorry for going completely AWOL lolza. I have some requests in my inbox but I might turn off requesting because it’s so hard for me to write unless it’s one of those random moments when I just go off and I don’t want people to wait forever for a reply. I’ll try my best to get to some that have been already submitted! Also, I suck at titles ☠️

He never says much to you, but the fact that he allows you to nap in his office while he works, or to tirelessly ask him questions about every subject on Teyvat. Despite his exasperated sighs, he always answers. And sometimes you can catch small slips in his stoic demeanor. Like the soft smiles he graces you with every time you bring him a cup of tea.

The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm after time. Most people around the Akademiya recognize your unofficial title of “the Scribe’s assistant”. Al-haitham gets your convenient assistance while you get to spend the day in his handsome presence.

“Here’s your ink refill!” You say, carefully placing the fresh bottle on his desk.

“I didn’t ask for-“ He trails off as he notices the near dry bottle he was about to dip his pen into. He gave a light chuckle, appreciating how you were sometimes more observant than him.

“Um, would you like to join me at the tavern tonight. There’s a special on drinks.” You teeter on the balls of your feet before his desk, a clumsy smile on your face.

“I can’t. My useless pest of a roomate is coming home tonight and he didn’t tell me what time. He’ll tear the place apart looking for a way in if I’m not there to unlock the door.” He doesn’t look up from his work, but he does pause to nearly snap his pen in half.

“It’s funny how you only speak passionately when it’s about the person you hate the most. Perhaps I should invite him for drinks instead, if only to get him out of your hair.” You give a cheeky smile, which he only catches with a quick glance, but he only replies with his signature scoff.

He carries on with his work, and it continues uninterrupted the rest of the day. You occupy yourself by either sitting and reading or tidying up here and there. As the end of the work day draws near, you see Haitham busy as always. You make your way to the door and turn to bid him farewell, but hesitation gets caught in your throat. You step outside his office.

On your way to the tavern you pass by his house, merely out of curiosity, and sure enough a rather frustrated blonde man is waiting outside.

“Well if it isn’t the genius architect!” You exclaim while walking up to him. His face lights up when he sees you, as if you’re his saviour.

“Ah the honorable assistant, to what do I owe the pleasure? It wouldn’t happen to be about the keys, perhaps?”

“Unfortunately no, Al-haitham’s in another work trance. But I have a better idea. There’s a drink special tonight at Lambad’s, my treat.”

He grins and pushes himself off the doorway to stand next to you.

“I’ll gladly take you up on that offer, but I insist I pay for my fair share. Since that numbskull scribe doesn’t pay you… I can’t believe how he mooches off us unfortunate paupers.” He motions dramatically as you both walk off towards the tavern. “I don’t understand why you act so starstuck with him, that leech.”

You give a small laugh and wave him off. “If it weren’t for your debts I would think you weren’t getting paid either.”

“Hey! That’s…” Kaveh turns away and pouts in lieu of finishing his sentence, earning a laugh from you. Your banter continues on into the night as the two of you share drinks and laughter. By the time most of the bar has cleared out, Kaveh is unsteady on his feet and his cheeks are aflush. You escort him home while he talks away the rest of his energy. With him practically draped over your shoulder, you knock loudly on the door. Your giddy smile falters as you see Al-haitham’s looming figure open the door. Tired eyes glare at the two of you, and while Kaveh is too inebriated to notice or care, you feel shame prickle your cheeks and a weight settle in your stomach.

As you shrug Kaveh off your shoulder you half expect Alhaitham to let him fall to the floor. Instead, he keeps him upright with an outstretched hand barely touching his shoulder. In a sharp motions he tugs the swaying man inside and pulls the door closed. Before it slams shut Kaveh nudges his foot in the frame, mumbling a “get home safe”, though the words got a bit jumbled. You were halfway through a smile and wave when Haitham slammed it fully shut.

Now standing in front of their house alone you feel the chill of night creeping up your back. You already miss Kaveh’s warm company, his exaggerated and dramatic ramblings. But mostly his eyes that listen even when his mouth is busy. They see your every movement, signs of discomfort and excitment. They see through you and hear all the words you’ll never speak. It’s moments like those where you can really see his genius.

Alhaitham is a cold man, but he is by no means emotionless, or even lacking in empathy. You just thought he had a great control over them, and was selective with what he showed. Maybe too selective. But now you find yourself dreading seeing him tomorrow, wishing instead the night with Kaveh would never end. In truth, you have no obligation to him, but showing up seems less daunting than having to confront him. The walk back to your home is an eternity. Every moment you’ve spent with him, where you knew you felt his hesitation. When his silence felt so loud, when he could not feel farther out of reach. You knew better. But to say you could’ve prevented feelings would be untrue.

»»————-　♡　-————««

Alhaitham is an asshole. But you told yourself he was an asshole that liked you, just to be near him.

You finished organizing all his papers before dawn. His office is cleaner than you’ve ever seen it, even after only being there for 40 minutes. Every single document, new and old, are organized alphabetically. There is tea ready to be made, he only needs to boil the water. It’s spotless, and the sweat rolling across your skin makes you proud. You did hard work, and a good job, and it shows.

You leave quietly, and still only the few desperate students roam the halls hurriedly, paying you no mind as you steal away. Part of you hopes he appreciates this, or even notices it, even though you know you shouldn’t care what he thinks. It hurts for you to realize it, to face this damn situation. Love is a curse and you can’t shake it no matter how painfully you wish you could. It’s a curse and it makes you want to cast one of your own upon him.

As your mind tries to think about what you’ll do next, where you’ll go, you take a deep breath. Calm down. The rapid pace of your heart slows, and the anger and shame that ran thick like ink in your veins dissipates. There is no one at fault here, no reason to be angry or to feel regret or shame. Feeling achingly human and vulnurable, you lean upon a balcony on treasures street. An icy breeze lingering from the night caresses your face while you watch the sun timidly rise. It radiates colour all across the sky with pastels like soft breaths from Celestia. As it moves higher more vivid colours follow, sparking life into all they touch. Beneath the brilliant rays the water glitters and all the plants and trees are splotched with gold. Finally you feel its soft warmth reach you, touching your skin gently, and your hearts soars. The sun reminds you that you aren’t alone, and that it will still be there rising every morning, and it will still kiss you when you feel alone.

Inhaling, you close your eyes, relishing in the pure bliss of the moment. When you exhale you open them again, and your heart feels light. It doesn’t matter where you go, you realize, because you will still have yourself, and the sun, and all the land it touches. You remember where you are suddenly, and you turn to look up at the Akademiya far above you. Alhaitham will likely be settling into his office now, and the image of his unfairly beautiful face still stings you a little. But it leaves you with no bitterness, not anymore.

[thebottomfromhell]

I read your recent post about the Hantengu clones and they are my favorite so I was happy and wanted to order something with them in a poly relationship with a top male readwr (can include the main body if you like). It doesn't have to be anything sexual, but I wonder how the reader would deal with such different personalities in a so unic relationship.

What about Zohakuten, in your view would he be seen as a cute and angry little brother who would refuse to admit to liking the reader or simply hate him for considering him a "distraction"?

I will do about Hantengu clones only since it's clearly Anon's preference. Nobody judging from me and everyone here has better things than complain. 100% sure I owe an apology of how long it took to get this done (I don't even remember when this was sent to my Inbox, sorry. I'm a disaster.) Also, I made reader human for an specific content.

Polyamory Hantengu Clones x Male Human Reader dynamic + Platonic Zohakuten

Warnings: Slight referenced sexual content (Karaku dirty talks and there is implied content too), Implied self-cest (I will put nothing of that here but you know, a poly with clones), Sekido being Sekido.

The four clones are very different to each other, having different needs and interactions, it's actually more surprising the fact that you are their type, not that you will complain about it. You love them all the same, though, so you are glad you all could solve it without making you choose. Still, not everything is a walk in the park, specially since you have them living in your home.

Urogi is always the one to wake you up in the morning, having your house custumed for them to roam around during day, he is almost like a cat, sleeping over you an hour or two only for the sake of cuddles before getting annoyed and start waking you up. "Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! I'm bored!" This is how you start your day more often than not, with Urogi whining with his full weight over your chest as he curls himself there. And mind you, he is the heaviest one, having two extra limbs does that.

"I'm awake... I'm awake..." you start weakly as he starts to nibbles your face when realizing you are up. It's early, but not an hour to be unreasonable to wake up. You sit on your bed the second Urogi get's off. " Good morning, Baby Bird." Urogi giggles as you call him the pet name as he takes your hands and holds them against his face, rubbing them against his cheeks. He moves his wings happily as he is given ALL of your attention, only to whine when the door opens, sound making him aware he has to share you.

"My~ Aren't you two comfortable?" Karaku basically purrs in a cheeky grin, making Urogi open his wings to block you of his sight. "No! It's my turn! Y/N is having fun with ME!" Karaku laughs from it and turns around, letting the Joy clone relax a bit, wings moving down, showing the Pleasure clone twisting his body in a way that highlights his hips as he looks at you from the side. "Aizetsu is making you breakfast, handsome. You should go before Sekido burns your kitchen without even using it. You know how he hates having our soft boy winning favor." He says before leaving while laughing. He is the least jealous among the clones, so it's reassuring to have him taking Sekido's place of the one making sure everything is working, because the anger clone is the most jealous of the group.

Then again, Sekido is also the one who needs the most space, so it makes a good balance of him taking his distance and then taking you all for himself. Still, Karaku is right, better not taste today's humour of the red-eyed clone. Urogi follows you from behind as you step into the kitchen, Aizetsu in front of the stove, cooking book open, following the recipe step by step to make sure to get it right. He won't be able to tell is it's good by taste, and the last thing he wants to do is to poison you. It would make him sad. "Y/N, you are awake. Good morning."

He greets, turning around to see you once he heats you enter the kitchen before focusing on his task again. Being the little shits they are, Karaku and Urogi approach you from behind, each mouth behind your ear. "Well, isn't Aizetsu being way too kind? I think he wants a reward!" Urogi starts, being loud enough for Aizetsu to hear, you can see from here his ears becoming red as he hesitates some moves before deciding to simply ignore the two. Karaku, instead, whispers. "Aizetsu deserves a "thank you" for trying to cook for you like a good wife, don't you think? Will you step in like a good husband, handsome?"

That is when he pushes you, making sure Urogi stays behind with him, towards Aizetsu. Karaku laughs a bit more before taking a seat on the table and urging the Joy clone to do the same. The Sorrow clone sighs but doesn't protest as he finish cooking, turning down the fire. You hug him from behind as you lean on his shoulder, checking what he did. Soup, Miso if your nose is right, eggroll and now is cooking ham on the heat left in the pan. "It looks good. Smells good too." You say, making Aizetsu blush, less than before but still blushing, and look away. "It's not a big deal." You smile before kissing his ear as a thank you, making Aizetsu stop what he is doing before leaning his face against you. "I hope you like it. I will be sad if you don't." You laugh as you take some chopsticks, willing to eat while cuddling him a bit. At realizing this, the sad clone starts to tremble with a crooked smile, but leans more of his weight into you as he can.

For a second you fear Urogi will jump in to take your attention again, but Karaku starts to talk to him, as they both start to speak behind Sekido's back. As always. And, as always again, thet is the clue of Sekido to come in. "Say that again, Karaku?" Oh, well. As usual, Karaku is hit by the staff, having to regenerate his shoulder and forearm. "What was that for?! Y/N! I need some love to heal!" He says as he dramatically walks towards you before doing a trust-fall on you, you catch him in time. He is the lighteast of the clones, so he is easy to handdle into a more comfortable position, making the Pleasure clone grin teasingly to the others. "I'm going to need you to take care of me~. How about you take me to bed and... give a good piece of meat~? Get me full of- AHGH SEKIDO! I'M ON SOMETHING RIGHT NOW, BITCH! Don't act as if you didn't want to get dicked to-" He screams as he is hit again, blood splashing on you.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, KARAKU!" That violence doesn't stop him from pulling you away from Karaku and using a piece of clothe to clean the blood of your face while fumming. He is gentle, as much as he can with you. Urogi would have teased if he hadn't just saw Sekido blow Karaku's head up with a hit. Aizetsu, deciding he has done his part, decides to leave to your room to see if your bed still has you body temperature. He doesn't need to sleep and unlike Urogi he likes to respect your space, but to lie in your bed, as dirty and messy as it gets, it's comforting. Karaku decides to leave too in order to not be the third wheel, "I'll be in the bathroom, handsome. I'll oil myself up good if you want to come, babe~ Don't bother knocking." and he HAS to tease before. "You need to stop letting these two do whatever they want." He scolds you as the winged clone gets bored, so leaves to follow Aizetsu.

"I think it's fine. I like it when you all are comfortable, and I'll admit it's cute to have you like this." He blushes as he looks away, it's nice to have them around. They all need their time to have both space and attention, balancing it it's basically your responsibility in the relationship, but they try to make it easy for you (as much as they actually can, because most of the time Urogi wants to play or cuddle while Aizetsu wants to relax, while Karaku wants to have sex while Sekido wants you to calm him down, they are all rather needy). But still, this was a good day.

And to be honest you would take a bad day over dealing with Zohakuten. Long story short a Hashira found your house, because of the clones he though you were a demon too and in a desperate meassure Sekido absorved the others. it was an overkill, but you get the guys got scared when they lost you in the forest with an enemy around. But now... "Hey kid..."

"Fuck you. I was brought here just to save you? Against one Hashira? What a waste of time." You see, Zohakuten doesn't want you to die, just like the rest of the clones he will protect you with his life. Unlike the other clones, Zohakuten loves the others more than he loves you, from his point of view they are family, and you are not. And so, while the other clones are protective and even possessive of you, the kid feels that way about them. "Just let me get rid of that damned slayer. I could easily kill several, now I am stuck between one and you." It's cute and funny to see him wanting to protect the other clones from you, or it would be if he wasn't so rude about it. Then again, he is a teen.

He finishes fast, a wooden dragon crushing the Hashira in it's throat, as it was expected from him, so you go and pat his head to congratulate him. You know he doesn't like to show it, like any boy of his age, but Zohakuten appreciates the contact. Not that he lets it linger, moving away "What are you doing?! Don't touch me, you weirdo!" You laugh it off nerviously, seriously this kid is something else, and not really in the good way. "Thanks for the help." You try to be as nice and gentle as you can, even with him starting to insult you in almost every turn. It's like a little brother fighting off his sister's fience or something, and you have no idea how you should feel about it. "Sure. Whatever."

Less aggressive, that is good. Still, you hope you can get your four lovers by tomorrow. Please. You are not built for this. Please.

[slickchickchocolatier]

Reina this has been on my mind ever since I read the seven series what is your story or explanation of the Devil having heeeeungs appearance like as in appearing as a Korean man along with his brothers. I’ve always been curious about that and I am dying to hear what your thoughts are on it. I love seven so much and heelel and Levi have me on my knees. 🤒🥴

Actually, this is something I’ve thought about ever since I drafted the series. Your curiosity is warranted, back when I initially drafted the storyline, I knew I was going to have to provide an explanation, and I am happy to do it now, and take a break from all these lovely requests in my inbox lol.

Shape of You

Warnings: short Drabble, canon, historical references (some factual and some fiction), yandere love, some dark concepts, devil Heeseung is in love with you, some fluff, hints of smutty things.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You lean back, relaxing the blades of your shoulders against his broad chest. His partially gloved hand swoops from behind and plays with your hair over collar bone. His black blouse remains unbuttoned, allowing you to fall into the soft, white long sleeve and the loose tie around his neck. “Mmhmm.” He hums out tenderly as his hand taps against your belly; tips of his fingers walking up and down, trailing the northern and southern borders of your abdominal canvas. The both of you enjoying a moment of leisure, relaxing on his throne and gazing up at the stars. It was moments such as this, that made you realize the devil truly meant it when he says that you are everything, and that he loves you more than anything.

“Do you purposely portray yourself as an Asian male or is that truly how you were created?”

You were blunt, which he always preferred. He always reassured you that he would be truthful, and that you never had to feel discomfort when asking him anything your mind yearns to inherit. Tilting his face to the side, he admires the depth of your side profile and kisses the center of your ear, gently whispering.

“What makes you think I would portray myself as anything other than what is the truth?”

He partially jests as he chuckles against your ear canal. One of the gestures he was fond of doing, because he knew it tickled yet brought a pleasurable sense inside you. “It’s just—ah…” a subtle gasp escapes your lips as he slowly licks your neck, pushing the tip of his nose into your ear as he gently nibbles your jawline. “Mmhmm…you were saying, baby?” He antagonizes as he keeps his oral movements going, encouraging for you to finish your statement.

“Before you brought me here…you know, all those churches in the world talked about how the devil would shapeshift and deceive people…so I just…didn’t know if y-you…were really showing…y-your trrrrrue—ah!”

You help as he picks up the pace and sucks in your skin, harshly pinching it between teeth as he leaves discoloration and a subtle bite mark. Meanwhile his hand slips into the high slit of your silky gown, taking advantage of the fact that he never allowed you to eat panties, and began probing your slit. You desperately slap your hands on his forearms as you stabilize your posture. He chuckles in seeing you struggle as you lean away a tad, just so you could get him to answer the question without fondling you the entire time.

His chuckling transfers to a deep sigh of ceasefire, amused by your gasping for air as you propped yourself high and straight, yet your derrière looked even more appealing as it plumps against his throbbing bulge. But he figured he owed you an answer…for now.

“What else did the Bible tell you? Hmm? Did it tell you how bad the devil was? That I violated maidens and killed off Gods angels?” He releases a laconic scoff. “What a joke.”

“S-so…it’s all not true?” You inquired as you finally composed your breathing, and felt safe enough to lean back once more, which he relished and expressed contentment by embracing your waist, interlocking his fingers around your bellybutton. Unbeknownst to you, he really was doing his best to behave and display some self restraint as he continued to answer.

“Well beautiful, there’s a lot that goes into it. But let’s just say that a lot of the things that were drafted about me were over exaggerated, or drafted untruthfully, all for the mere sake of installing fear—fear to control.” He takes your hand in his palm and tenderly enclosed it. “But that’s a conversation for another time.” He whispered against your cheek.

“As for your question, this is how I was brought into life.”

“Any particular reason why you were made to specifically look and speak Korean?”

He smirks. “Well, truth be told, my former master loves diversity. Before he created mortals, he used his angels to form a baseline on what he wanted humans to replicate. There are many that come in all varieties. It just so happens my brothers and I all came out reflecting an oriental appearance. As for the language well, you already know we speak all dialects, even the lost ancient ones.”

Whispering in Arabic, he professes sweet words of love and tenderness in the language. “See? And now that you you’re my wife, you understand and speak all that of which exists.”

It’s true. The moment he brought you back to life as his Queen, you inherited a wide list of inhuman abilities, one of them was the suddenness of speaking and understanding all languages.

You spoke back in ancient Egyptian dialect, responding subtly. He smiles. “Good girl.”

“So, did he create all his other angels the same way?” He leans his head back, resting it against the grand head rest of the throne as he gazes and admires the outline of your profile. “Some. Some do them took after the fair skinned with hair and eyes to match, while others came out bolder and exotic in appearance. Michael, for instance, was created with a Mediterranean appearance, contrary to what mortals would imagine.”

“The arch angel Michael?” You asked in shock. He nods.

“My former master had an idea of how he wanted humans to become, but really couldn’t think of any other way to form their appearance. So he used his angels and guide.”

“But I thought the Bible described angels to appear differently…it described them as nonhuman entities, just a large eye with six wings that rotated.”

He smirks upon your oblivious nature. He has so much to teach you. “The original angels, such as myself, served as the original draft of what humans should take after. Those created after are nothing like us…you remember.” He raises a brow as he takes an expectant tone. You do remember those humanoid metallic figures, whom appeared more monstrous than anything else.

“Why don’t we take a walk and talk about all that’s in your mind. Whatever questions you have, we can spend the day feeding your curiosity…” he grips your waist and gently lifts you, only to slowly drag you back down and ride your slit against his lengthy bulge. “In a little while…hm baby?”

You fling your head back over his shoulder. “Uh…uh-huh.”

Moving you back and forth, he forced you to take on a riding momentum as he sets the pace; his hands never losing grip along your waistline. Your hands slam on the elegant rails of the arm chair. You didn’t care what they landed on, you just needed something to grip and dig your fingers into. “Fuuuuuuuck yeeeeeeah.” He whispers against your ear, dragging out his tone to be deep and creaky as he continued to move your hips in waving motion.

“Relax baby, I’ll tell you whatever you wanna hear…I’ll answer all of your questions…just let me fuck you first.

It’s too bad your mind went entirely blank. By the time he was finished with you, you were senselessly incoherent and just a moaning mess, fucked too dumb to think of anything other than the soreness of your opening struggling to close after the constant thrusting, and the juices flowing out, stringing your thighs. When all was said and done, nearly hours after the initial conversation, the only lesson you learned from all of this was that you should never show the devil how curious you can get….because he’ll get curious right back. And the devil doesn’t sleep, until his curiosity is no longer peaked.

- Fin

[flanklurker]

Hii!! just wondering if you could do a chamber x fem or gn reader where they are dating but chamber gets jealous of another agent in the protocol <33

Heeheehoohoo this wasn’t sitting in m y inbox for months no no (frimsosorrybutireallyhopeyouenjoy)

Chamber x fem!Reader: The Jealous Type

Vincent prided himself on keeping his cool. He really did. Staying calm and collected was how he survived so damn long in the heat of battle.

Why then was it that he had to consciously, consciously tell himself to relax his grip on the fine bone china mug of coffee?

Could it have been anything to do with a very, very charming new agent throwing his weight around in the common rooms? Surely not.

“Ah,” Harbor called out from across the table as you dragged your sorry bones through the kitchen. “Miss Y/N. Good of you to drop in nice and early—perfect timing! I was just about to get a pot of something on.”

Oh, thank the fuck god.

“That would… that would actually be amazing, I owe you one man,” you hummed as you took a seat at the kitchen counter.

“Pleasure is all mine! Pick your poison.” He nudged a box of teas and coffees across the table towards you with an easy smile.

Looking through, you grabbed your ol’ reliable from the kit and held it up for Harbor’s appraisal. “This okay?” You cocked your head towards him.

“Excellent choice, I’ll get it going.”

As the pot heated up, Harbor worked quickly, grabbing all the mugs from the counter. You noted idly that he seemed to be familiar with which agents were likely to be up early—Brim, Skye, Reyna and Sova’s mugs were all taken out and arranged ready for the agents to come in. Bloody impressive for being in the protocol what… ten days at most?

“I can see you’ve already worked out the lay of the land huh, Harbor.” You nodded towards the cups.

“Well, I can’t well make friends and influence people if I step on their toes before the day even begins,” he chuckled. “I had to learn that with Reyna the hard way.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. Reyna was not known for being the most… approachable, morning or otherwise. You tended to stay away—you’d heard the shouting at Jett and Phoenix before, and that didn’t exactly inspire confidence in you. Not at 5.40 in the morning.

“Look, let’s just say I assumed the whisky pump had been left out from dinnertime by mistake, and I picked the wrong time of morning to put it away.”

At this, you snorted. “Idiocy. Everyone knows Reyna has Frangelico and other, more ‘expressive’ liquors at dinner time.” You really laboured the ‘expressive’.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harbor’s eyes widen. You could almost catch a “speak of the devil” under his breath as the devil herself stalked in, beelining for her modern mug.

Harbor played it off easily, humming lightly to himself as he grabbed the hissing kettle. You on the other hand, sat as still as possible, lips pursed and trying not to draw any attention to yourself on the off chance she’d heard anything.

“This is ready?” you heard her ask your colleague, jerking her head towards the pot as she picked up the mug.

“Piping hot and ready to go, as per usual. House blend today, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”

Reyna hummed approvingly, grabbing the pot and wordlessly pouring herself a drink. As she turned around, you couldn’t help but make eye-contact with Harbor as you heard the crank of the infamous whisky pump. You struggled to keep a straight face, and Harbor’s conspiratorial gleam wasn’t helping.

You managed to keep the giggles under wraps until Reyna had left the kitchen, at which point the pair of you dissolved into chuckles.

“Jesus Christ Harbor, that was a close one. A little more warning, please.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know she would arrive at exactly 6.39 this morning.”

At this point, Harbor grabbed the pot, made a show of checking it for any whisky, and hopped down beside you with his own mug.

“Dude, let me,” you shooed him away from pouring and grabbed the jug. “You had this before?”

“Always down to try new things,” he shot back with a wry smile.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t come complaining to me if you don’t like it then, you were the one who made it.”

He chuckled and gratefully accepted the cup.

Conversation flowed easily as the two of you kicked back, musing on your past lives and ambitions in the protocol. Unlike Harbor, you’d had a while to get used to your radiance, and were able to offer a few tips on how not to overdraw your own energy resources. Harbor, on the other hand, was a wealth of facts and stories from hunting artifacts in the field. He was able to shed a little bit more light on some of the curiosities you had, like the bowls of colourful sand you always lingered on on your deployments in Morocco.

“Oh those? You have a keen eye for these things. From my understanding they’re actually textile dyes—once you activate them with water they take to the fabric like nothing else!”

“Guess we’d have to steer clear if you needed to flood the area,” you poked back.

It wasn’t until your beloved popped around the corner that you remembered you were actually due for a mission today.

“Vincent! I’m so sorry, I meant to be in the meeting room like twenty minutes ago to go over weapons.”

Your partner raised an eyebrow. “Yes, mademoiselle, it took me an extra five of those to convince our dear leader that you were not in fact one for tardiness, and that there was a good reason for your absence.”

“Shit no that’s totally my bad, Harbor and I got caught up yammering about architecture and I completely missed the time.” You shot Chamber an apologetic look, not quite managing to catch his eye.

At this point, Harbor took the moment to chime in. “Well I’m sure Brim can’t expect a lovely lady like this to hit the briefing room on an empty stomach?”

Harbor’s smile was warm and genuine, but his eyes were a little shrewder than you’d initially noticed.

Chamber seemed quiet for a second, moreso than you’d usually expect for his usual morning charm. If your eyes didn’t deceive you he seemed almost taken aback.

“My good friend, my intention was to ensure she arrived on time, and have refreshments come to her without cutting into her time to prepare.”

A little deterred by your partner’s more serious demeanour, you started up from the chair and grabbed the mugs.

“Whelp, this has been a great chat, Harbor, but I definitely have to dash now if I don’t want Brim to be permanently on my ass at 7am.” You swung by Vincent, placing a reassuring hand in the small of his back as you manoeuvred past him to the door.

“No need to apologise, Miss Y/N, though I do hope to continue our chats soon pending the outcome of the mission.” Harbor gave the pair of you an easy smile and settles back against the counter-top. “Do take care on your mission today, yes?”

Chamber grabbed your hand. It wasn’t harsh, but the gesture was sudden enough to surprise you as he gently tugged you out of the room.

“I assure you, my friend, she is in very good hands,” he said over his shoulder as Harbor gave a cheery wave (hah).

As soon as he’d closed the door, Chamber started making a beeline for the briefing room.

“Woah woah, why the sudden professionalism Vincent? Is Brim mad?”

“You mistake my haste, ma Cherie. I prefer to be punctual, and assume you were similarly inclined.”

You pulled back. “I hate to do this now, but I get the sense this isn’t a Brim thing, is it?”

“Don’t be silly ma chou, I just don’t want to be late.”

Yeah… he really wasn’t meeting your eyes, was he.

“Vincent, stop. Look at me. Something’s gotten to you hasn’t it.”

Obligingly, he stopped, but wasn’t turning to face you.

“Vincent…”

“Now it has gotten to this point, I feel exceedingly foolish, mon bebe.”

“My love, when we started to know each other, properly, I made a promise to you and you made a promise to me, right? You remember how that went?”

Your partner sighed, and turned to face you. His jaw was set and there was a vein, a little more pronounced than usual, popping from his forehead. With great effort, he forced his eyes to meet yours, and there was more frustration and concern there than you’d seen in a while.

“Oh, my darling,” you said softly, and moved forward to wrap him in a massive hug. “We talk about these things right? I promised you I’d listen, and always be there to hold you like this.”

“…’m feel so stupid for even letting it get to me,” he mumbled into your shirt. “…wasn’t even your problem… thought I was past this unbecoming behaviour…”

While you could only glean little snippets of what he was saying, you started putting two and two together in your head. “Ahh,” you say quietly.

“And I knew when I made this commitment—when we committed to each other—that I wouldn’t be the one captured by your gaze.”

“Vincent, I promise you, I’m not that—”

“No no, mon ange, you have this magnetic draw. You’re too kind, too well-meaning to see it, but of course people are going to be interested in you. I knew that, I prided myself on rising above it but still…”

“I’m really not convinced that Harbor is interested in anything more than being friends.”

At the mention of his name, you felt Chamber’s body twinge a little.

“No mon amour, he had that look in his eyes. I know it all too well, it is something I’ve felt myself on a number of occasions.”

“Shhh shhh,” you gently traced your fingers through his hair and around the nape of his neck. “Shhh, you know that kind of thing doesn’t faze me at all though right? He’s barking up the wrong tree.”

Chamber, your beautiful, tired partner, mumbled something unintelligible into your chest.

“And hey,” you continued. “I don’t care how many people throw themselves at me, shamelessly or otherwise. In fact, I wish they wouldn’t, at all. Ever. However. None of that matters, not even for the split second it takes you to get from point A to B on your rendezvous, huh?”

At this, he let out an involuntary snort.

“And none of that matters, because at the end of the day, I only have eyes for you. I will only ever have eyes for you. No one interests me in the same way you do Vincent.” You paused for a second, because no matter how many times you said it it still felt as real as the first time.

“You are the only one I love, and I love you with my head, my heart, my body and my soul. We made a promise, you and I, and I intend to keep it.”

You felt him relax into your arms as you say this, and in that moment, you decide that maybe Brim can wait a little longer.

“I love you,” he mumbled through your shirt.

“I love you too, Vincent,” you smiled back.

---

“Your heart is thudding awfully fast, carino,” Reyna remarked from the corner couch.

“Am I that easy to read, Ms Reyna?” Harbor shot back a wry grin.

“You know, if you were interested in that one you could have asked absolutely anyone in the protocol about her. Always the same answer.”

“Barking up the wrong tree… I take it?”

Reyna took another sip of her god-forsaken whisky concoction. “Quick learner,” she remarked.

“Ah well,” Harbor mused. “Definitely worth a shot.”

[ofveneers]

cybertronian governments fucked up for REAL

⌈ " I truly have no idea what you're talking about! You should see my approval ratings in Protihex. As well as Protihex itself! Ah, the Polity of Progress... Brings a tear to my eyes. " ⌋

[tavyliasin]

Iron Flowers Never Wilt - Barcus Wroot One Shot

Written for the Baldur's Date SFW Event, and inspired by my inbox~

Barcus Wroot has a little problem. It has been a long time since he's thought about finding a new...friend...and now someone has caught his eye, he isn't exactly sure what he should be doing about it.

Lucky for him, he has had the good fortune to have met a certain group of misfits who all have their own idea of romance. Can they help him plan the perfect date for the one he wants to woo?...

Pairing: Barcus Wroot/Zevlor SPICE Rating: 0.5/5 (mild suggestive language) Content Warnings: None, it's all fluffy

Spoilers Act 3 Mild Spoilers Canon Compliance In the very vaguest sense, this has little to do with canon. It's mostly indulgent fluff and an exploration of the different characters' attitudes to romance. Other Notes There are a few background pairings in here because it felt fun, and it was nice to look at how those dynamics might affect how the companions suggest solving the issue at hand.

Song/Mood Love Exists by Amy Lee "It can be born anywhere In the last place you'd expect In a way you'd never dream It can grow from nothing And blossom in a second A single glance is all it takes To get inside you

Invading every thought And every beat of your heart Love can make you scream And it can leave you speechless Love has a thousand stems But only one flower"

Full Chapter below the cut! Or Click Here for AO3 7,288 words ----- -----

Iron Flowers Never Wilt

Barcus Wroot found himself walking along the streets of the lower city as his feet carried him without thinking towards the Elfsong Tavern. He had precious few associates that he could rely on, but rely on them he would have to if he wanted anything to change in this miserable city.

The bartender sent him up the stairs to a large wooden door, which he knocked on gingerly, half thinking to change his mind and walk back out when a familiar face appeared at the open door above him. “It’s…you? I wasn’t expecting a visit, but you’re welcome to come in. Sorry about the mess, there’s a lot of us staying in here right now… You know how it is, right Barcus? You make the best of what you have.” Tav was already talking far too much, infuriating the part of the deep gnome that felt a spike of jealousy for how easily she gathered people to her. It was far too irritating to see how nice she was, and how she was clearly dropping everything she had been planning just to make time to speak with him because he turned up. “Well? To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Right. About that- ah, that will do.” He took the goblet of wine handed to him and sat on the array of floor cushions opposite Tav in a wide open space between some beds at the far side of the room. “I might need some…advice. About something that has been troubling me. And you seemed about as adequate as any other option.” His request sounded hollow even to his own ears, the veiled insults a poor disguise for the plain fact that it was not a short trip across the city to get here nor an easy one.

Tav frowned, her expression quickly darkening with a low fury. “If it’s about that Wulbren fucking Bongle again-”

“No, no. Not any more. That ship has sailed, and, well, I’m looking at what else might be in the harbour.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “It’s… It has been quite some time since I tried to make a new friend. ”

“You have a crush on someone~” Tav teased with a grin. “Good for you! Who’s the lucky one that caught your eye?”

“Maybe I made a mistake coming here, you’ll only make fun of me again.” He tried to stand to leave, but the offer of a top up of the wine changed his mind. 

“I’ll be nice, I promise. And I will help if I can - it’s about time you had something nice to look forward to.” She smiled more softly, getting more comfortable on the cushions and gesturing for him to tell the tale.

“Well, we first crossed paths - albeit briefly - back on the coast, before I encountered those wretched goblins.” He began, taking another long sip of the wine. “Didn’t think much then, I had other things to think of.” 

“Of course, you were very dedicated to your search.”

“For all the good that did me.” Barcus sighed, fussing with the edge of his shirt hem for a moment. “Well, when next we crossed paths it was in that godsforsaken prison - but he was taken away before we could speak much. Though you know me, I know when to listen . The things his friends said about him, and all the things they didn’t say that were far more important.” 

“I think I have an idea who you mean, but do go on. I’m listening. What next?” Tav tried to give him a little encouragement, but the alcohol seemed to be more effective at that as he emptied the glass. 

“Next thing I know, we’re all on the march to the city again - thanks to our gallant rescuers, I suppose - and we didn’t cross paths much until after you took care of the blasted Steel Watch… Horrible machines, almost as horrible as the bloody runepowder. Mortals shouldn’t have that much power in their hands if you ask me. Which…you did not. But you understand, you must do. Hero type and all that.” He was gesturing a little more with his hands now his glass was empty, tongue loosening as he continued. “But then there he was, carrying this horrifically big sack of food and other supplies - gods know how - so I offered to help. Nothing better to do, you see, and it made for a nice excuse.”

“A burden shared is a burden halved, right?” Tav took his empty glass and put it to one side with her own, resting her chin on her hands as he finally approached the point.

“Maybe not quite half, he’s a little bigger than me, but I took what I could carry for him. Turns out we were going round to the refugees in the outskirts. Not just the Tieflings, either. He made sure his people were fed first, but nobody went hungry. When we were finally done he had a small loaf of bread and a lump of old cheese. Do you know what he did? He sat with me on the grass, broke it in half, and gave me the larger pieces! Who even does that? I’ll tell you who - Zevlor!” Barcus had been growing more animated with every word, and finally with that clear admission he let go of tension he hadn’t realised he’d still been clinging to. “I’ve only gone and fallen for a Paladin, a proper leader - despite what he will try and tell you - but what am I even supposed to do about that? I’m just…Barcus Wroot. Doomed adventurer, occasional tinkerer, and if personal history is anything to go by, a terrible judge of who should be a… friend .”  

“You can just say boyfriend or partner, Barcus. It won’t kill you to admit you have feelings for someone.”

“You don’t know that, knowing my poor fortunes it just might.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Tav shrugged and smiled in that terribly disarming way she always did. “You have plenty to offer, you just need to work out how you want to approach him. When was the last time you went on a date?”

“That… I don’t recall.” He thought back, frown deepening as he realised exactly how true that was. “How am I meant to find out?” 

“Well, there are lots of ways to seduce someone-”

“Slow down, I’m not trying to be seductive -”

“Alright, maybe I’m not the best person to ask about romance …” Tav sat back, fidgeting a little with her hands as if counting off different options, before settling on the solution. “Everyone has a different idea of what romantic might mean, how to show someone you’re interested. Why don’t you talk to everyone, and see what they say? You don’t have to tell them who you’re thinking of, just open the conversation, make a decision after you’ve heard from them all.”

“And they’re just going to take time out of their day to talk to me, just like that? You might be living carefree up here, but most everyone else has their own business to take care of.” He paused, relenting a little at the look on her face. “No offence meant, of course, I’m sure you have…some kind of heroics to do, business to meddle in…” 

Tav shrugged once more, meeting his eye with a more serious look. “Well there is that little matter of what’s causing the earthquakes beneath the city, trying to keep my friends alive in the middle of about 20 fights per day… I have a list, actually, if you wanted to-”

His expression fell, ears drooping a little as a slight blush of shame threatened to creep more visibly into his cheeks. “No, no, you’ve made your point. I apologise. And thank you, for making time for my little issue.”

“It has been nice, actually, to sit and talk about something that isn’t world-ending or immediately life-threatening. I’ll let a few of my companions know that they should expect you, but put yourself out there a little too - you never know who might have the clue you need to figure it all out.” She stood, dusting off her armour, before putting the used glasses and empty bottle over on the table. “Good luck, Barcus, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” 

“Good luck to you too, with all the, you know, world ending peril and all that.” He paused after standing, hesitating to leave. “Oh and I should also show a little gratitude for your kindness. Not to me, to Zevlor. Something you said to him, it seems to have given him a bit more of that fire back that the other refugees spoke of from his past. It suits him, even if he wears it like an ill fitting jerkin for now.”

He began to make his way to the door, when a chilling voice - as cold as death’s fingers caressing the back of his mind - crept into his ears. “Thou art courageous to seek new connections, gnome.” 

Barcus turned to see the withered husk of what once might have resembled a man, clad in loose robes with gold clinging to his body in lines akin to jewellery, or perhaps an artistic form of pottery repair holding his wrinkled form together. “I…umm…I should be going.” 

“Thou art most welcome to speak with me a while, shouldst thou so wish.” Withers continued, a wry smile on his near-skeletal features. 

“I’ll consider your offer,” Barcus replied hurriedly, “but for now I’ll try my luck with the living.” 

As the door closed, Tav shot a look at the being in the corner. “You almost killed him with fright.” 

“Bringing him back to his mortal coil would be a trivial matter.” Withers shrugged.

“Yes, but dying isn’t a pleasant experience to us mortals. Dare I say it might even traumatise the poor man far more than he deserves.” It was likely pointless to argue with a being who treated life and death as an easy matter, like tossing a coin, but he seemed to relent.

“Then might I recommend that thou pack more potions, lest thou find thyself in need of my services before the sun sets?”

“Thank you.” She frowned. “I think.”

—

Karlach was whistling and almost skipping down the street when she damn near ran into Barcus as he tried to wave her down. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you were looking for me!” She had stopped in her tracks just short of him, putting her axe head on the ground and leaning on the haft. “What’s up?” 

“Of course you wouldn’t realise, with your head in the clouds…” He grumbled a moment, before swiftly remembering what he wanted to ask. “Well, you see-”

“Wait, is this about that thing that Tav told me about?” Karlach’s face lit up with excitement. “Ooh I know just the thing!” 

Barcus took a step back involuntarily. “I’m suddenly reconsidering the wisdom of consulting someone with such a…fiery constitution.” 

“Oh come off it, soldier! I’m a love expert! Well, I am now I’m not turning everything I touch to ash. So, have you tried just telling him what you want?” The tiefling’s grin was joined by a wink that was far too obvious for his comfort.

“I could never be so bold! It’s far too early to be thinking of any night-time shenanigans, thank you very much.” His blush coloured his grey skin from his neck to his ears with a subtle pink that felt hotter than the woman’s mechanical heart. 

“Not that! Well, if you want to, you could-” She laughed as his pink hue deepened. “What I mean is, talk to him. If you don’t tell him how you feel, how is he ever going to know?” 

“What if I don’t know how I feel?” 

“You’ll work it out!” She gave him what she judged to be a friendly shove, though like an overly excited dog that still thinks it’s a pup she put a bit too much strength into it and left him staggering back a few steps. “Oh, gods, sorry… Guess I don’t know my own strength. Don’t overthink it too much.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Let your heart do the talking for a change, not your head, and listen to it. You never know what it might tell you.” 

“That’s…surprisingly astute, Karlach.” He rubbed his shoulder slightly, but his expression had softened. This was certainly one thing to consider. 

“I know, right?! I surprise myself too some days!” She grinned again, slinging her axe back over her shoulder. “Have a bit of courage, you’ll be just fine.” 

As Barcus watched her carry on down the street with a spring in her step, he wondered how she got to be so strong - not just the clear muscles of her body, but that extra glow from something else behind her smile. —

The next one he encountered made him reconsider the idea entirely. Red eyes and white hair seemed to almost glow eerily in the sunlight - something about Astarion always felt decidedly unnatural to Barcus, but just as he turned to walk away before he was spotted, he heard that awfully flirty voice. 

“Well, hello~” Astarion quickly caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder with a pale and slender finger. “My darling told me you were looking for a little advice, and far be it from me to turn down one of her requests, especially when she asked so nicely~” The flash of sharp teeth was even more unnerving, but there was no stepping away now.

Barcus sighed. “Alright then, what is it you recommend? I suggest not advising I go picking any pockets, or breaking into his home in the middle of the night-” 

“Perish the thought! You’d never get past the first lock.” The pale elf laughed, testing his patience further. “Naturally I am not in the slightest bit serious.” 

“Could you try? Even just a little bit serious might be preferable.” He huffed. “I didn’t come here to get mocked, if I wanted that I’d visit the circus.”  

“Hmm…not a bad idea, but I doubt your date is fond of the circus.” Astarion stroked his chin in thought. “You need to find his weakness. The places you can stick your dagger - metaphorically, of course - to get into his armour. That part can be literally , if you like.”

“Are you all this utterly depraved?” Barcus could feel a slight headache returning.

“Only for the right people~” The elf smiled a little more naturally this time, which was somehow an even more terrifying sight. “I do mean what I said. Learn all you can about him, and use that to your advantage. Think of it as a battle, and you are getting to know your enemy before taking them on.” 

“I’d rather not think of him as an enemy…but I suppose I know what you’re implying. I shall give it some more thought.” He began to leave again, wondering if a battle of wits was really the wisest plan-

“You are most welcome, my good sir~” Astarion called out, in a mocking tone.

Barcus sighed. “You have my gratitude. Even if I don’t entirely agree with your thesis on how to handle people.” 

“It works, gnome, don’t forget it.” The elf was gone by the time he turned around, no doubt slipping down an alley or hiding in some shadow waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting fool…

Barcus shook his head, that wasn’t a particularly generous thought. There had been an attempt at sound advice, and it might have some value to it if he changed the context a little.

—

Feeling a little tired of the louder member’s of Tav’s group, Barcus decided to seek out the wizard next. He seemed to be more level headed, calm, and Tav mentioned the man might well be in that magic shop, Sorcerous Undies? Didn’t matter, it was a place full of books and magic where the famous Gale of Waterdeep might be-

“You cannot be serious! If you were to use Leomund’s Tiny Hut in that kind of an area, well it’s foolish at best, if it doesn’t outright get you killed by the time it fades in the morning! No, you need to be far more careful, you see-” The voice carried all the way out onto the street, passionately arguing about…well, Barcus could not care any less if he tried. And for a moment, he did try. 

He sighed, rubbed his aching temples with his fingertips, and steeled himself to enter. 

Inside the shop, Gale was indeed deep in some kind of debate with a couple of younger apprentice-looking types, ill-fitted robes hanging off them like they had been passed down through the family line hoping to carry a hint of pride with their fancy stitching. Luckily for the gnome, it seemed like the conversation was wrapping up as Gale threw his hands in the air in a gesture of frustrated defeat, turning on his heel and striding towards the door. 

“Ah, excuse me!” Barcus called out to the wizard as he walked past muttering something about grateful brats not listening. “Could I- Just for a minute?”

“Oh! Yes, yes of course, please forgive my rudeness, you see I was just explaining to those-”

“Spare me the magic lecture, if you don’t mind.” He quickly stopped the oncoming onslaught of complaints before the man could hit his stride with them. “Do you have any advice of the, uh, other nature?” “You seem terribly uncomfortable - there’s a nice bench around the corner, let’s take a seat there for a while and talk in peace, shall we?” Gale outstretched an arm to indicate the direction they should go, and fell into step with Barcus, matching his pace with care. “There, that should do nicely, don’t you think?”

“Yes, very picturesque, I’m sure.” The view from the bench across the lower city was certainly an interesting one. Tumble-down shacks dotted between others that were maintained in a manner that required almost daily repairs. Smoke curled up from one or two alleys, and the only buildings that were completely stable had an air of ominous foreboding to them that kept all but the bravest - or most foolish - souls far from their doors.

“It has it’s charm.” Gale laughed quietly. “At least, that’s what the locals tell me when trying to get me to buy one of those seafront properties . But we aren’t here to discuss the finer points of home ownership in Baldur’s Gate, now, are we?”

“No,” he replied, feeling a little more at ease in the company of the wizard than the others so far, “no we are not. I was hoping you might have some advice of the amorous persuasion.” 

“Ahh romance! I’ve raided many a library shelf for novels of that nature, some quite racy pieces too - you know there was one with a gnome and a tiefling where-” 

“Gods, are you all insatiable?” Barcus groaned, it seemed he was running out of luck again with a group that might as well be putting succubus saliva in their porridge. “I don’t want to think about any of that, thank you very much.” At least, not yet , he added in his mind alone. 

“Well, it wasn’t all about the, uh, naughty bits , you know. It was actually a very sweet romance. You see, it turns out that although they lived very different lives, when they shared more time together they realised they had a lot of smaller things in common. Their favourite fruit, the places they wanted to visit, even their careers had some unexpected parallels.” Gale looked down at him now, though he was still too caught up in his thoughts to look anywhere but his fidgeting hands as he mumbled.

“I don’t know, maybe there’s something similar in what we do now? But I’m no warrior and he’s no tinkerer, that’s for sure. But we both have people looking up to us, relying on us, and…well I know he didn’t fail his friends as badly as he thinks he did, but I… Well maybe the fruit is something to go on? And we do live in the same city now, that’s certainly a…very boring thing to have in common. Plenty of people live here that’s not special.” He sighed, letting his shoulders slump forwards. 

“Maybe you should read a few books - now I know that life isn’t exactly a fairytale, we’re living proof of that,” Gale winked and idly fiddled with his earring, “but there’s still plenty to be learned when you read between the lines on the written page. It certainly couldn’t hurt to try, now, could it? I’ll have a few sent over to you by courier tomorrow - they’re a little heavy for the pigeon post.”

“At the very least they might bore me to sleep.” Barcus resigned himself to the no-doubt oversized reading list that would be on his table by morning. “I will keep in mind what you said, though, you seem the most level headed amongst your companions if nothing else.”

“I shall choose to take that as a compliment, such as it is. Maybe even high praise coming from you!” The wizard laughed warmly, pressing his hands to his knees before standing with a sigh. “Well, I must be off for now. I am happy to have been some assistance. I wish you all the best with your romantic endeavours.” 

—

Barcus stayed on the bench for a while, contemplating his options as he watched the lower city’s denizens going about their business down below. He almost didn’t notice when a large shadow blocked out the light from behind him.

“Don’t panic there, friend, just an old druid stopping by for a chat.” Halsin stepped around the side of the bench, careful to keep from unblocking the sun into Barcus’s eyes. Something about the quiet compassion of the druid reminded him of Zevlor. He sighed slightly before he could stop himself. “I know that look - worry not, I am not here to deliver a lecture or try to persuade you into something you are not comfortable with.” Halsin’s smile was as warm as the scent of wood, moss, and leather drifting from his huge form. “I apologise too, on behalf of my loves, if either of them were too…forward, with their advice.”

Barcus found it was very hard to be frustrated by anything the large elf did, though perhaps that in itself was what irked him at times. “You knew Zevlor, did you not?”

“Only for a brief time. His group were not at the Grove long before my untimely capture by our mutual foes.” Halsin looked out into the distance for a moment, as if trying to see the memories clearer in the clouds themselves. “He is a very devoted man, a far better match for you than your previous beloved.”

“Yes…well, perhaps it took me a little too long to learn the hard way. But I am here now, in one piece no thanks to him.” He shoved the thoughts from his mind, unwilling to dwell on that sneering face and harsh voice that tried to erode his self-esteem even as he clawed it back for himself each day. “There has to be something you know about him that could help me, he does not open up easily. Even just a favourite food is a start.”

“Ah now that one I can help with.” Halsin reached into the bag he had been carrying, pulling out a few pieces of fresh fruit. “I seem to recall the old Hellrider had a fondness for pears. Take them, I can find more - I do not mind another excuse to take a trip out of these stone walls and back into nature’s embrace.”

“That is…well, most kind of you. Thank you. Though I don’t think handing him a couple of fruits is really going to be any kind of a romantic gesture.” He carefully wrapped the fruits in some clean cloths and stowed them in his pack where they would not get damaged.

“Perhaps you should find an excuse to leave the city, spend some time in the wild.” 

“I’ve spent quite enough time traipsing through mud and trees, I still have scars on the back of my head from the brambles.” Barcus grumbled, idly rubbing at the fine faint lines that marked his scalp.

“Well, it needn’t be the woods for you then. The point is, take him somewhere nice. Somewhere that is special for him, for you, or just somewhere different that can become special by being there together.” 

“You know, I didn’t take you to be a romantic sort, druid.” He mused out loud, raising an eyebrow quizzically at the larger man and earning a soft chuckle in response. 

“There is much you don’t know about me, my friend. But that’s alright, I have a feeling our paths may cross a few times yet - though hopefully under these more pleasant circumstances than most of the last times we have met.” Halsin laid a very gentle hand on his shoulder, even for his size he was far more careful with his strength than Karlach had been. “Take care of yourself, and of Zevlor too. The old warrior still has some fight in him yet, but that does not mean he should be so quick to throw himself to it.”

“That much we can certainly agree upon.” Barcus began to stand, carefully picking up his bag. “Thank you for taking the time to sit with me. Perhaps it would be beneficial for our paths to cross more often in peaceable times.” 

“I would enjoy that.” Halsin leaned back comfortably on the bench, enjoying the moment with the sun warming his back as the gnome made his way back out into the city.

---

The Githyanki stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd, her armour shining in the sunshine and her large sword strapped as ever to her back ready to be brandished at a moment’s notice should anyone be foolish enough to ignore the warning of her frown.

Lae’zel was intimidating, but Barcus reminded himself he had no real reason to fear the woman. As terrifying as she looked, she was neither malevolent nor an enemy. If anything, she was an ally he would be glad to have standing between him and whatever danger did not run from the sight of her. 

“Ah, I had been told to expect you, though I hope you do not expect me to give you poetry or grand advice on romance.” She greeted him with the usual straightforward manner. It was at least easier to deal with one who spoke clearly and freely.

“I would be concerned if you did, to be honest.” He followed her to stand in a slightly quieter side street as they spoke. “Tchk. Actually, the githyanki people have several thousand poems and romantic overtures inscribed into our zaithisks, but I have been informed that the more sensual nature of the works would not suit your tastes.” Lae’zel’s expression gave little clue as to whether or not she was being serious, but she gave him no time to consider it further. “I will keep it simple and to the point. Zevlor is a paladin, a mighty warrior - no matter how far from his home he has travelled he has a warrior’s heart. Remind him of this, and become the new home that he can fight for.” 

Barcus felt his headache returning as the creases on his forehead deepened. “I appreciate who he was, who he is, but I do not want to see him throw himself headlong into an early grave.”

“You are hearing, Istik, but you are not listening . If he has a reason to come home safely, then when he inevitably goes to fight - as his heart will be drawn to by its very nature - he will not be so reckless.” She smiled, much to his surprise, her thumb idly caressing the petal of a small flower tucked into her belt by her hip. “Become the thing he does not want to lose by giving him the strength to be the man he most wishes to be.”

“That is oddly reassuring…” Barcus mumbled slightly quieter than he meant to, beginning to work out how all of the pieces fit together. 

“So that’s where you’d run off to.” Another voice came from behind, startling him from his thoughts. “I thought we were to meet in the-” Shadowheart stopped as she stepped around and saw who Lae’zel had been speaking with. “Fancy seeing you here, though if you are done… Lae’zel, you can go on ahead of me and reserve the table, I shall give our friend a little advice. You weren’t too hard on him were you?”

“Tchk. You are lucky I am so fond of you and your little jokes. Do not be too long, the heat has left me hungry.” The gith gave a short nod of a bow, which Barcus returned, before walking back out onto the main street.

“You will have to forgive her abrasive nature, sometimes she forgets that not everyone was raised in an astral battleground.” Shadowheart observed him carefully, her pale hair catching the light even in the shade of the buildings.

“She was actually very insightful. Pleasant, almost.” He glanced over his shoulder, confirming with a small measure of relief that she had indeed left them alone. He wasn’t sure how she would take such a compliment.

“But only almost?” Shadowheart chuckled, her hand drifting to a familiar looking blossom tucked into her breastplate. “I know what you’re going to ask about, but it is more simple than you think. Memories, Barcus, they make us who we are. Even when they’re hard to grasp, they’re still a part of us. The two of you have some unpleasant ones from your lives up to this point, but you have plenty of time left ahead.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, how does this help me get to know him, or even to get close to him?” He grumbled, longing for someone who might talk more simply again. 

“What I mean to say is that what is important now is to make new memories. Together. Spend moments together that neither of you can forget, let those be the thoughts and feelings that bind you. Dwelling on your history would be painful, and I’m not saying you should forget it either, but put your focus on the present and the future.” She knelt for a moment and straightened his jacket collar much in the way a sibling might. “Show him who you are and become unforgettable.” The meaning in her last words carried a strange echo of what Lae’zel had told him just moments ago. The thought lingered even as she bid him a swift farewell and left with hurried steps to catch up to her… friend . Definitely very good friends, he thought with a wry smile. —

A few ideas were kicking around in his head as he carried on up the hill towards the Forge of the Nine, hoping that speaking to someone else who knew Zevlor for longer might be able to confirm his ideas.

The sound of metal being hammered into submission echoed down the street, the slight burning smell of the Forge carried with it on the breeze. That meant Dammon would be hard at work as usual, though he seemed to be deep in conversation even as he brought his tools down upon the anvil with staggering force.

Rounding the corner, it became clear that it was Wyll stood with the Tiefling as he worked. Excellent , Barcus realised, that’s two targets, one arrow . 

“And there’s nothing else you can do?” Wyll’s voice was plaintive and clear.

“Not yet, I’m afraid. But as soon as there is, you’ll be the first to know, I promise you that.” Dammon wiped the sweat from his brow, quenching the small blade carefully. “Ah, it seems I have an unexpected customer - good to see you again, my friend.” 

Barcus felt the warmth of the greeting was perhaps a little too familiar given the scant few times they had crossed paths, but he had heard plenty from around the town about how the blacksmith was one of the most trusted and welcoming in the entire city. And he had barely moved in a couple of tendays ago. “Dammon, Wyll.” He nodded politely to each in turn.

“I hear you’re looking for advice on your potential suitor, Barcus, and I’d say you’ve come to just the right place.” Wyll gestured to a nearby table. “Why don’t the three of us take a seat for a minute? I’m sure the smithy here could use a break from his fire for a few minutes at least.” 

“That wouldn’t be a terrible idea,” Dammon agreed, setting his gloves to one side and wiping the sooty residue from his hands as Barcus pulled up a chair and took a seat. “But unfortunately I doubt I’m much help with whoever it is you’re looking to charm. I barely know anyone in this city.” 

“The word is,” Wyll leaned in conspiratorially, “our serious looking friend here has his heart set on a certain Elturian Paladin.” 

“Well, in that case there…is still not a lot I can tell you, I’m afraid.” Dammon’s smile was almost as warm as the forge itself, bringing over a large jug and a set of simple cups to the table as he and Wyll took their seats. “We weren’t close in Elturel, but I can tell you he’s a good man.”

“A man of honour,” Wyll quickly agreed, still not leaving the gnome any room to get a word in edgeways, “so you should do well to remember that in your courtship.” 

Finally, an empty second appeared as the cups were filled with water that Wyll quickly chilled with a cantrip as Barcus seized the opportunity to speak for himself. “I have no intention of sullying his honour, or crossing his oath, or anything like that. For now.... I want to know how he feels. And that’s not easy, the man is as open as an underground prison in the deepest level of the hells.” Both men winced at the word. “Ah, my apologies, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” Wyll raised his own cup, pausing a moment with it held aloft, “there are some people worth being trapped in the hells with.” 

Dammon’s cup met the Blade’s with a metallic clink, the two men drinking the water as if they were toasting a pact that Barcus was not privy to.

Wyll took a long swig and set his cup on the table once more. “Courtship is a dance. Once the music is playing, you offer your hand to your partner. If they take it, you learn to move to their rhythm just as they are learning to move with yours. But keep listening to that music, find the steps to the dance and keep time. Not too fast or too slow.” He stood, bowing and offering his hand to Dammon to demonstrate. “My good fellow, might I trouble you for a dance?”

The teifling’s impossible bright eyes sparkled as he followed the act. “No trouble at all, my lord, it would be my pleasure.” 

Barcus sat almost in disbelief as they began to waltz around the forge to the distant sound of the bards playing in the square. But it was, in its own way, making more sense too. 

“Be aware of his feet are so you do not step on his toes,” Wyll continued to talk as the two danced in perfect step, “and watch out for his tail, too.” 

“Wouldn’t want to step on that, it can be a little…sensitive…” Dammon grew quieter towards the end of the sentence, a hint of a blush rising to the tips of his ears, his tail swishing subtly along with the music behind him.

“When the song changes, so does your dance. Listen for it.” Wyll’s lips twitched with the hint of a mischievous smile as he slid an arm around the tiefling’s lower back, holding and dipping him backwards as the music came to an end with the distant sounds of applause. 

Barcus wasn’t quite sure if he should look away as the pair stood upright again, the smith smoothing down his apron before they returned to their seats. “That might be all well and good for a fine gentleman and his chosen dance partner, but I never learned how to waltz. I’ve always had a preference for the practical.” 

“Then it’s simple.” Dammon declared, gesturing to the forge behind him. “Make something for him yourself, with your own hands. Craft something that holds meaning. You are more than welcome to use my tools, consider my Forge at your disposal in the name of budding romance.”

“Budding…” Wyll leaned back, casting his eye over the carefully kept flowerbeds that somehow survived the heat from being close to the forge. “Do you know much about flowers, Dammon?” 

“I can’t say that I’m an expert, but I’ve always been fond of these.” He plucked a small bloom from a nearby pot, cone-like centre surrounded by reddish-violet petals that curled out and away. “They remind me of a heart, the flower itself opening fully to reveal it to you. The colours are reminiscent of the tones you can achieve in specially cooled steel, too.” 

“Echinacea.” Wyll nodded, taking the flower gently from the smith’s hand. “My mother used to grow them outside her room. Father said they represent both strength and healing - fitting for the old Hellrider, don’t you think?” “They can also be made into a tea, although that’s not quite as pretty to look at.” Dammon took the plant back. 

“So you’re saying to give him a flower?” Barcus was more perplexed than ever. 

“Not quite.” The tiefling placed it carefully on the table, going back to the dagger that was being quenched when Barcus had arrived. “You can make him one that will last forever.” 

The blade was laid on the table next to the blossom, the shine of the metal a very similar hue to the petals. “It’s beautiful.” Wyll leaned closer to admire the unfinished weapon, the thin sheen of colour clear in the light.

“When you work with steel, the temperature it is at when quenched affects the surface. A little careful timing, and you can get some wonderful colours.” Dammon smiled, refilling their mugs. “You’re far better at working with smaller parts than I am, but I have free time to help you get the perfect colours.”

“I am not certain I have enough spare gold to pay you for such a bespoke service.” Barcus fiddled idly with his coin pouch, he had been hoping to save a little for a future that seemed more worth saving for the longer the day had gone on. 

“Pay me? Consider it a favour, for old friends and new.” The smith grinned for a moment. “I wouldn’t turn down a good word amongst your companions for where to get their equipment, of course, but it would be my pleasure to help you make a gift from the heart.”

—

And so Barcus found himself at the Forge a day later, the head of his favourite steel hammer in hand, laying it in the crucible ready to be melted down. The wooden handle stayed in his palm with a firm grip for a while, slipping back into his pocket when it was time to work the metal into the sand cast petal shapes they had made, the cone-like shape of the centre and the stem of the flower in a separate sand cast. 

It took several hours of meticulous work, heating and reshaping the metal with delicate care, pulling and twisting it into shape, securing each petal to the blossom with breath held and hands as steady as they could be. The metal was heated and quenched precisely to give the final piece the perfect colour.

Dammon examined the piece one last time before handing it back to him. “You have a real way with the finer detail, Barcus, it’s as if we took a flower from the pot, enlarged it, then turned it to metal with some kind of magic.” 

“Oh hells,” he sighed, “I could’ve just asked the bloody wizard to do that and saved us a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble? It has been a pleasure. It’s nice to make something that will warm a heart rather than pierce one for a change.” The tiefling laid a hand on his shoulder, a look of soft pride crossing his face. “Besides, it wouldn’t mean as much if you didn’t make it yourself.” 

“That was the easy part.” Barcus sighed, realisation dawning. “I have to give it to him now, don’t I…”

“That you do, my friend. You’ll be fine, I’m certain of it.”

—

Several more days passed, and Barcus had spent them as wisely as he could. He made a few excuses to speak with Zevlor, trying to learn more about him, even taking the time to visit more of the Elturian refugees camped in Rivington without the Paladin there to overhear. He listened carefully, trying to find the “weaknesses” in his “armour” as the rogue had so indelicately put it, trying to channel a little of Karlach’s courage to speak more boldly.

At night he had even read some of the books that Gale had sent him, pleasantly surprised to find there were a few passages that gave him some ideas. The pears from Halsin remained fresh and perfectly ripe - he questioned if perhaps the druid had imbued them with a little magic to give him the extra time to make his plans properly. He had picked as nice a spot as he could find, at the top of the hill above the tiefling encampment in a semi-secluded area where they could still hear the sound of the bards playing below and the soft chatter of daily life. 

Two simple glasses sat beside a bottle of rare vintage wine sent over from Tav, a selection of simple foods as it seemed the tiefling wasn’t given to indulging in too much extravagance. He held tightly to the hope that quiet conversation could slowly bring down a wall that had seemed insurmountable a mere tenday ago. Everything had been so carefully prepared, right down to the crimson and gold embroidered silk that wrapped delicately around the gift hidden in a side pocket of the picnic basket. It was unlikely to break, they had made sure of that, but despite the solid metal it felt as fragile as if he had held his own heart in his hands as he tied the blue ribbon around it. Perhaps it was an apt metaphor, giving a part of his past - the hammer that had been with him since he first learned to tinker with contraptions - to the hope of a better future and someone worth spending it with.

Barcus had been there a while, trying to make sure everything was just right, but his date arrived perfectly on time. His breath caught in his throat when Zevlor appeared at the summit of the hill, armour sparkling in the sunlight, eyes tired yet bright with a warm flame that was beginning to feel like the hearthfire of a home… It wasn’t perfect, nothing in the wretched city could be…nothing except the look on the old warrior’s face as Zevlor finally began to relax on the grass beside him. 

------ ------ ENDING NOTES ------ ------

Well, Barcus fans, I really do hope I have given your favourite guy a very lovely really nice day for a change, he's more than earned it~ Thank you to those who suggested the pairing, it's rather sweet, really. I don't think I have space to do any more with this, so if anyone wants to collab and write a sequel/continuation please do be my guest and let me know!

[ardenssolis]

@holyrisen said (inbox):

" you're that sun king guy, right ? the one whose been meeting up with gramps - ow. " shou stops mid - sentence with a small grumble when hikari nudges his side for being too 'rude' as the princess nervously folds her hands together to bow to ozymandias. " g - greetings, your majesty ! it's an honor to be in your presence ! i - i hope you enjoy your visit here ! "

S-SUN KING GUY… NO one had ever addressed him like this before. Honestly, for a moment, he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to say to such a statement. On one hand, it was strangely amusing for the sheer fact that he could imagine that had any of his retainers been present, they would have gasped audibly in horror at how familiar that simple address was. Hikari’s attempt at ‘damage control’ was unnecessary, and yet, he was entertained by it all the same. ❝And you two must be…❞ Ozymandias lifted his hand, rubbing his chin in thought as he tried to recall Crimson’s children. ❝Shou and Hikari, correct? It is a pleasure to be able to speak to the both of you. I had thought that we would never have an opportunity to cross paths considering we are all quite busy individuals.❞ He smiled, offering his own polite bow of his head. ❝I do look forward to being able to get to know you in the future, if you both would allow it.❞  

[ballonleastadiumofficial]

I have a question of utmost importance that I would be quite pleased if you could answer for me on this fine day

- @starry-eyed-pkmnlvr

Strange you didn't say it in the ask, then.

...Fine. To what do I owe the pleasure of your appearance in my inbox?

[tahuxian]

[ CHIN ] from beidou to ning.....

after  the  many  fortuitous  encounters  liyue  has  been  through  of  late  ,  níngguāng  finds  herself  at  peace  once  more  .  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  goings  on  in  the  city  had  returned  to  normal  and  within  the  newly  built  jade  chamber  ,  a  familiar  face  lingered  around  her  desk  .  the  illustrious  captain  beidou  of  the  alcor  …  come  to  pay  their  debts  finally  ?  the  thought  alone  prompted  a  near  scoff  as  the  tianquan  approached  with  confidence  ,  the  strut  and  clicking  of  heels  undoubtedly  heard  first  before  she  was  seen  .  she  saw  no  cases  of  mora  ,  nor  even  a  cheque  sitting  atop  her  desk  …  which  could  only  mean  that  liyue  truly  hadn't  changed  after  all  . 

“            to  what  do  i  owe  the  pleasure  ,  captain  beidou  ?            ”                 her  voice  rang  out  ,  with  a  hint  of  amusement  as  she  came  to  stand  in  front  of  the  other  ,  seating  herself  casually  on  the  very  edge  of  her  desk  .  formalities  were  not  all  forsaken  when  around  beidou  ,  but  it  was  obvious  that  níngguāng  was  somewhat  more  relaxed  in  their  company  .  a  bad  habit  she's  come  to  have  .  there's  a  silence  that  falls  between  them  ,  the  tianquan  setting  aside  her  cigarette  holder  wordlessly  .  the  quiet  they  shared  was  a  subtle  thing  …  a  way  of  saying       '  i'm  glad  you're  home  safe  '  . 

níngguāng  let  out  the  gentlest  of  sighs  upon  feeling  the  other's  fingers  take  a  careful  hold  of  her  chin  ,  inviting  their  gazes  to  meet  .  a  bold  move  indeed  ,  one  that  only  the  captain  could  pull  off  .  to  touch  the  famed  tianquan  …  many  would  die  to  be  in  their  position  .  she  allowed  the  moment  to  persist  for  a  while  longer  ,  secretly  enjoying  the  featherlight  stroking  of  her  skin  by  the  other's  calloused  thumb  .               “            i  have  something  for  you  …          ”               she  uttered  ,  finally  shattering  the  silence  they  shared  in  .  she  carefully  (  reluctantly  )  pulled  away  from  beidou's  touch  and  stood  herself  up  ;  a  hand  reaching  behind  to  take  a  golden  slip  from  her  desk  .  a  pretty  thing  ,  even  complete  with  the  tianquan's  official  wax  seal  …  never  a  good  sign  ,  where  the  captain  is  concerned  . 

the  golden  slip  was  pressed  into  the  other's  hands  and  afterwards  ,  níngguāng  left  the  other's  immediate  vicinity  and  headed  to  sit  behind  her  desk  .  her  time  was  precious  and  the  moment  they  had  just  shared  was  gift  enough  for  the  day  .  she  began  arranging  the  various  scrolls  and  papers  strewn  across  her  desk  ,  regarding  beidou  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile  before  speaking  once  more  .               “            you  can  add  it  to  your  collection  .            ” 

inbox prompts ... accepting ... @iedolon

[capricornrisingsstuff]

So I’ve taken a prompt from @lovebugism ‘s summer sleepover as it looks like fun! I hope they don’t mind me being totally self indulgent with this one.

Prompt: “what can I get you? Do you need water? A hug? Space?”

Contains: Eddie being a total softie, reader is female and is a burnt out workaholic. Fluff, pet names. Lmk if I’ve missed anything!

Your phone buzzes for what feels like the millionth time in your back pocket, as you push the door to the kitchen open with your denim jean clad ass. “Why can people not leave me alone, they know I’m working”, you mutter to yourself as you scrape your own plates into the trash, along with the dishes just haphazardly left by your coworkers.

Standing in the kitchen to the coffee shop amongst the chaos you look at your phone and wince. You can barely see your lock screen background (a picture of the castle in Disney World- a reminder that your hard work pays for you to do the things you love); the screen was littered with notifications from the top to the bottom. Scanning through them all, you sighed. A Teams meeting you need to respond to, your Outlook inbox showing 13 unread emails, WhatsApp, Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook messenger. All direct messages about the three jobs you’re juggling to try and get your PhD. Just as you were about to put your phone away, it buzzed again, a double vibration announcing a iMessage. “It’ll be saved for later” you thought as your boss called you to serve at the to go hatch.

Turning from the abrupt customer who didn’t even say hello to you “three grande lattes, sugar free vanilla, decaf” was your greeting; you stared aimlessly into the drops of espresso as you mentally highlighted and crossed off your diary. Breaking you out of your daze was your Apple Watch, lighting up with a name that gave you butterflies. “Eddie “Edward” Munson” the screen flashed. You manoeuvred your fingers to open the message on your watch, trying to suppress the grin the name on the screen gave you. “Hey Mrs workaholic, I was wondering if you wanted to hang soon? If you can fit me in your diary?” Eddie was a sweetheart. He was someone from your life from years ago who regularly kept up with your Instagram stories. Always replying to them and checking to see how you are. You’d just never had the time to indulge yourself with the boy.

A crash of plates and string of expletives broke you out of your lavender haze; the sound of the crash sending you into a little spiral of anxiety. You hastily gave out the drinks order you were working on and ran to the back, intending on clearing up the mess through the tears that were starting to line your eyes. You went to the walk in and pulled out your phone, hastily jabbing at you the contact. “Hey sweetheart, what do I owe this pleasure?” Eddie playfully greeted on the other side of the phone. “Eddie” you choked. “What’s wrong babe? Are you okay?” Eddie’s tone turned serious in a flash as you breathed back some sobs threatening to fall “I just need a break Eddie. I’m so burnt out, I don’t know what to do”, you admitted. You never admitted it but he seemed like your safe space. “What do you need princess? A hug? Water? Space? Say it and I’ll deliver it”. You let out a watery laugh as he ran through the list. “I think I need all of those Eddie, but…from you? Please? Sorry I know we haven’t met up much but I just feel like I can talk to you.” Eddie was glad you couldn’t see his Cheshire Cat grin on the other side of the phone. “My lady, I shall be your unofficial Uber delivery driver in his shining rust bucket of a van. Hugs and water are on their way. I don’t know if I can offer the space though once I hold you…” you swooned at his words, playing with the strings of your apron. “Don’t worry Eddie, space is off the menu from you” “glad to hear it princess. Your Uber driver is 8 minutes away”. No amount of decaf grade sugar free vanilla lattes would get in the way of the hold this sweet boy had on you.

[likecastle]

Ronance Femslash February - "Ow, you said you wouldn't do it that hard!"

Many thanks to the anon who sent “Ow, you said you wouldn't do it that hard!” I’m fairly confident this isn’t what you were expecting, but then again, maybe it was!

I’m accepting Ronance prompts all month for Femslash February. I have a few more prompts in my inbox, but I still need a few more to get me through the end of the month, so please send them my way! Anon asks are totally fine, and you’re welcome to send more than one prompt. Don’t be shy! You can find previous prompts I’ve filled here.

“Ow!” Robin cries, flinching away after the second stroke. “You said you wouldn’t do it that hard!”

Nancy huffs out a frustrated breath, struggling to hold Robin in place. “This wouldn’t be so difficult if you’d just—stop—squirming.”

Robin tries to stay still, but can’t help hissing between her teeth at another sharp sting.

“You’re the one who asked me to do this for you,” Nancy reminds her.

“Well, never mind, then, I take it back!” Robin snaps. “Just forget I asked.”

Nancy sets the hairbrush down. “Do you really want me to stop?”

Robin hesitates, turning around to look at Nancy. She draws her lower lip between her teeth, scraping the delicate skin as she considers. “No,” she says slowly. “Just—go easy on me, OK?”

This time, when she picks up the hairbrush, Nancy grasps Robin’s hair at the root, and holds her hand steady as she brushes through the length. The tangles in Robin’s tawny waves come out more easily as she works through her hair up from the ends, and this time when she reaches Robin’s scalp, there’s no sign of discomfort on Robin’s face.

She works her way slowly around Robin’s head, admiring all the different tones in Robin’s hair, blonde and brown, light and dark, and even a little bit of copper here and there. Nancy delights in finding a spot in the under layer of Robin’s hair where her waves are slightly tighter, forming soft, loose ringlets against the back of her neck. When she reaches the other side of Robin’s head, Nancy goes back over the hair she’s already brushed, just for the pleasure of Robin’s hair slipping smooth as silk through her fingers. By the time she finishes, Robin’s shoulders have gone slack in relaxation, and Nancy can practically feel the contentment radiating off her.

“Is that better?” she asks, before kissing the pale line of Robin’s part.

“Mm-hmm,” Robin says drowsily, and presses back against Nancy like a self-satisfied cat.

“I still don’t know how you manage to get your hair so tangled,” Nancy murmurs, stroking Robin’s hair because she misses the slide of it against her skin already. “It’s not even like you have all that much of it.”

Robin makes a pleased noise and leans into Nancy’s touch. “Just lucky, I guess.”