#I love the menacing dancing shadows in this scene

[jaethaone]

Claiming What’s Mines

Part 2 Of “Coming for What’s Mines”

Parings: Roman Reigns x Black female reader, mentions of Carmelo Hayes x reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Ratings: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut!! , Bad Smut Possibly, unprotected sex (Always Wrap It Up) , Possessive, Toxic Roman

Summary: After Trying To Avoid Roman Since His Return, And Show That You’re Moving On, Roman’s Had Enough Of The Games And Decided To Let You Know Who You Belong To

A/n: So The Creative Juices Have Been Flowing So Part 2 Is Here Faster Than Expected, Its Also My First Time Writing Smut So Bear With Me. I’d Also Like To Thank Everyone Whose Loved The First Part, I Wasn’t Expecting How Well Its Been Doing So Thank You .. I Hope You Guys Enjoy This Part.

GIF Credit: @jeysuso

The atmosphere backstage was electric, thrumming with the echoes of the crowd that had just departed the arena. The deafening cheers from the arena still reverberated in the air, vibrating with the energy of the crowd that had just witnessed an electrifying episode of SmackDown.

Among it all, a palpable tension brewed, one that was far more intimate than the public scene.

Two weeks had passed since Roman had unleashed his fury, reminding everyone why he was the Tribal Chief of the Bloodline, and why challenging him was a grave mistake. But it wasn’t just the wrestling world that was in upheaval. Your feelings were a storm, tossed between the lingering memory of Roman and the magnetic pull of Carmelo.

Charming and charismatic his attention had become a reprieve from the chaos, a welcome distraction from the heat of your complicated emotions for Roman. You had needed space, yet the distance had only stoked the flames.

You had been avoiding Roman these last two weeks.. or at least trying to. Flitting between the chaotic backstage life and stolen moments with Carmelo.

You had tried to spend more time with him.. with Carmelo, trying to show Roman that you could move on.

And yet, the longer you avoided Roman, the more you sensed his relentless pursuit, a force too strong to disregard.

You had been trying to escape from Roman’s looming presence and his possessiveness, the latter being something you haven’t experienced before, using every ounce of willpower to stand firm in your decision that you’d move on.

But still, Roman lurked in the corners of your mind. The memory of his gaze, smoldering with a fierceness that made your heart race, haunted you. He had a way of making your very being tremble, leaving you unsure yet yearning—caught in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

After the recent events at SummerSlam, where you had stood up to him, Roman had taken your rejection with a sort of nonchalance that made you ache. “Just know that I’ll be waiting,” was all he had said with that signature smirk, leaving you simmering in uncertainty. You thought avoiding him would help, but Roman was relentless; he always had to be in control, always had to get what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was you.

Tonight, everything had exploded during his showdown with Solo, anger and frustration spilling over. His rivalry with the Bloodline had ignited a fire in him, but it was the sight of you laughing with Carmelo backstage that had truly pushed him to his breaking point. Roman had always been possessive, and right now, he was more determined than ever to stake his claim.

Roman leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the shadows emphasizing his chiselled jaw and sharp features. His dark eyes tracked every movement of the two figures in front of him.

He watched as you retreated down the hall, waiting until you were out of view before stepping to Carmelo

“Still think you can dance with fire and not get burned?” Roman’s voice broke the charged silence, low and dripping with menace.

Carmelo raised an eyebrow turning around, a sly smile playing across his lips. “I’m just here to have a good time. You know how it is, Reigns.”

“That’s the problem,” Roman leaned in, closing the distance. “You’re having too much of a good time and forgetting who belongs to who.”

“Like I said, it’s just fun”

“Well you can go have fun with someone else”

“Nah” Carmelo stepping up to Roman despite size difference, “I think I’m going to continue to have my.. fun.” Patting Roman on the shoulder and walking away.

“Yeah” Roman says rubbing his hand over his face. “We gone see”

With that he walks away.. towards your dressing room

Finally in the confines of your dressing room you sat on the couch that was positioned in the corner letting you have a view of the whole room. Letting out a long breath, you sat contemplating Carmelo’s offer. He suggested you come back to his hotel room tonight. And any other time you’d be all for the distraction. Yet, in the depths of your mind, like an ominous shadow, Roman loomed large.

He wasn’t just the crowd’s favorite. He was a force—a storm of confidence wrapped in simmering danger. You had seen it in his eyes when he fought for what he wanted, and it terrified you.

You were about to get up to change your clothes when the door burst open with a force that caught your attention, revealing Roman—jaw clenched, eyes ablaze with determination.

The tension in the air thickened as he pushed the door closed, his imposing presence filling the small space.

There was a moment—silent, electric—between you and Roman.

“What are you doing here, Roman?” you asked, a hint of defiance in your voice, but knowing full well what the answer was.

“I came to set things straight,” he replied, his tone smooth but laced with underlying menace. His eyes bore into yours, dark like a storm cloud, intense enough to make your heart leap in both fear and excitement.

You stood slowly, feeling the weight of Roman's gaze pulling you closer. The air thickened as you crossed the space between you and him, the palpable tension wrapping around you both.

“Roman, I—” you began, but he cut you off with a sharp shake of his head.

“No more games,” Roman asserted, stepping forward until he was mere inches away. “Two weeks of hiding from me, running around with him…it ends now.”

“Look I’m just trying to move on,” you challenged, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to mask your own growing irritation.

“Move on?” He laughed, a cold, harsh sound that resonated in your chest. “You think you can just move on from me, after everything? Look around; we both know it’s not that easy.”

“Roman, you don’t own me,” you asserted, your voice steadier than your pulse.

His eyes darkened, the air between you heating up, igniting something that had been smoldering for far too long.

You crossed your arms, grounding yourself as you tried to resist the storm brewing in your chest. “Honestly, What do you want, Roman? I thought I made myself clear.”

“Clear?” He stepped forward some more, invading your space, heat radiating off him like the sun. “You think you can just brush me off? You think you can move on with him?”

“Carmelo has nothing to do with this,” you snapped, trying to stand firm against the overwhelming presence of the man before you. But even as you said the words, doubt trickled in. ”Besides, you made your choice.”

“Did I?” Roman scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk that sent a thrill through your core.

“Look, I don’t belong to you, Roman,” you asserted, your voice stronger than you felt. “So this walking around thinking that i do, is going to stop”

The corners of his mouth twitched, a faint smirk forming. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“You’ve always belonged to me.”

“Roman…”

He silenced you with a fierce kiss, capturing your lips with an urgency that sent shivers dancing along your spine. It wasn’t the softness of Carmelo’s charm; it was raw, passionate, and intoxicating. You felt yourself surrender, your body responding instinctively to the heat of his kiss, the touch of his hands as they roamed down your hips, pulling you deeper into him.

“Do you understand now?” he murmured against your lips, hungry and possessive.

“You’re mine. You always have been and always will be.”

As he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a wildness in him—desire mingled with desperation. You could sense it; he was a man who didn’t take no for an answer, a man who had always gotten what he wanted.

“Roman, I—” you began, though it came out more breathless than you intended.

But he was relentless, pulling you flush against him again, his mouth capturing yours once more in a heated frenzy.

“You belong to me,” he murmured, a low growl that resonated deep within you. “And I’ll remind you of that.”

With renewed fervor, his hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly until you were wrapped around him. You gasped at the sudden heat pooling within you, pressing your hips against his as if trying to draw him in further.

“Roman, please—”

As he backed you against the locker, his hands traveled over your skin, igniting sparks everywhere they touched, and your body replied in ways you couldn’t control. Every ounce of reason faded into a haze of pleasure, a growing fire that consumed everything else.

You couldn’t deny how intoxicating it felt to be wanted in such a primal way. The air around you thickened with sexual tension as he devoured your mouth, hands slipping beneath your clothes, caressing the bare skin beneath. You gasped, a mixture of desire and shock, but it only fueled his hunger further.

“Roman,” you gasped, struggling to regain control over your senses, but he silenced you with another fierce kiss. He devoured you, as though he were trying to consume your very essence, fueling the desire that had always simmered beneath the surface.

“I’ll show you who you belong to,” he murmured, pulling you away from the wall and into a flurry of movement as he led you to the couch in the room.

Roman's hands traced your figure, each caress igniting the fire inside you until it blazed beyond control.

With raw, hungry intent, he pushed you down, his body pressing against yours

“You’re mine, always will be,” he growled, his lips trailing along your neck, seductive and overwhelming. The unmistakable urgency of his actions ignited a hunger you could no longer resist.

Your breath quickened as you felt his tongue trace a path along your collarbone. You wanted to be selfish, to keep this moment for yourself. But more than that, you wanted Roman, and you wanted him now. You couldn’t deny that anymore.

"Please," you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair. "Don't make me wait any longer."

With a growl, Roman ripped your clothes off, exposing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. You gasped at the sudden exposer, your nipples pebbling against the soft fabric.

Roman took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling as his hand drifted down to your core.

"You're so wet for me, YN," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through your panties. "Tell me it’s mines."

"It’s yours," You moaned, your head falling back as he teased you. "Roman, please. I need you inside me."

With a rough tug, Roman ripped your panties aside, his fingers plunging into your heat.

You cried out, your hips bucking off the couch as he thrust his fingers deep inside you.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, adding a second finger. "Take it all. Take my fingers and wait for your turn to have my dick."

You were on fire, your body throbbing around his fingers as he worked you towards an orgasm. You cried out, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he slammed his fingers in and out of your wet hole.

"Come for me, YN," Roman demanded, his thumb seeking out your swollen clit. "Let me feel you cum around my fingers."

You couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, you convulsed around his hand, your body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Roman rode out your orgasm, his fingers never slowing as he prolonged your release.

"That's my girl," he growled, withdrawing his wet fingers and bringing them to his mouth.

In a heady haze, you surrendered, losing yourself in the raw ferocity of his desire. He gave in to every fervent longing—the taste of his lips, the intensity of his touch—every action a promise that surged through your veins. This was not just physical; it was declaration, a statement of who you belonged to.

"You taste so fucking good."

You were panting, your body spent as Roman feasted on the taste of you. He kicked off his jeans, freeing his hard length, and positioned himself between your legs.

You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with desire as you watched him slap his dick on your throbbing core.

"Tell me you want my dick," he demanded, his voice hoarse with need.

"I want your dick," you whispered, your eyes flicking to his thick length. "I want it inside me. Please, Roman."

With one swift thrust, Roman filled you, moaning as your tight heat enveloped him. You gasped, your eyes rolling back as he stretched you, filling you in a way you had only dreamed of.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, beginning to move, his hips snapping as he set a relentless pace. "Tight little pussy was made for my cock."

You moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, along with your grunts and moans. Roman's eyes never left yours as he fucked you, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

"Look at me, YN," he demanded, his hand tangling in her hair, guiding her head back. "Watch me fuck you."

Your eyes flew open, locking with his as he thrust deep, again and again. Your pussy clenched around him, milking his length as he hit all the right spots.

"Roman, I'm gonna cum," you cried out, her body tightening around him once more.

“Let everyone know who you belong to,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and needy. “You’re mine, say it”

You couldn’t do anything but moan

“Say It” He said one more time, thrusting harder

“I’m Yours!” You all but yelled

"Cum for me," he growled, his hips never slowing. "Cum around my cock, baby."

As if in a trance, you tensed, your body shaking as another orgasm ripped through you.

Roman felt your pussy pulse around him, and it sent him over the edge. With a roar, he thrust into you a few more times before he stilled, his release flooding your insides.

Panting, you stayed joined for a moment, Your legs wrapped around his waist as you both came down from your high. Then, with a soft smile, Roman gently withdrew, his eyes never leaving yours.

"That's how I claim what's mine," he whispered, helping you sit up. "And now, everyone will know who you belong to."

Your heart raced as you realized what you had just done. The dressing room offered just enough privacy, but your passionate encounter could easily have been overheard. But instead of feeling embarrassed, you felt empowered. You had just experienced mind-blowing sex with the man you wanted, and didn't care who knew it.

"You're right," you said, a smile playing at your lips. "And I can't wait to do it again."

The reality of your earlier struggles faded away in the face of his unwavering conviction, a promise to remind you of your place beside him.

After you both got dressed and a promise of round two and a final kiss, Roman left your dressing room, a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew that he had just reignited a past romance, and this time.. you were going nowhere

You belonged to Roman Reigns—always had, always would.

TAG LIST

@whatdoeseverybodywant @trippinsorrows

@loloschive

[elryuse]

Yandere mafia rose x male reader who likes to make her jealous

Mafia's Lover

Yandere Mafia Rosé X Male Reader

The world was a blur of red and pain. I remember the cold metal biting into my flesh, the acrid tang of blood filling my senses. A lifetime ago, it seemed. I was a ghost in my own body, a hollow shell drifting through a crimson haze. Then, he appeared. Y/n. An oasis in the desert, a beacon in the storm. His hands, gentle as a summer rain, tended to my wounds. His eyes, filled with a compassion I’d never known, held me together.

In that vulnerability, I found a strength I never knew existed. I clung to him, to the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath. In those stolen moments, love bloomed in my heart, a defiant flower pushing through the concrete of my world. But my world was a harsh mistress. A world of shadows, where loyalty was a chain, and betrayal a death sentence. I couldn’t drag him into that darkness. I had to let him go, even as it tore me apart.

Months turned into an endless winter. The world was a monochrome canvas of gray, devoid of color, devoid of hope. But then, a flicker of life, a spark of defiance ignited within me. I needed to see him, to feel the warmth of his presence once more.

And there he was, my heart aching at the sight. Surrounded by a flock of giggling girls, he was a sun radiating warmth. A sun that should have been mine alone. Rage, a venomous serpent, coiled in my gut. How dare they? How dare they infiltrate my world, my Y/n?

I watched him through the binoculars, a silent voyeur to a scene that was both beautiful and agonizing. His laughter, once a melody reserved for me, was now shared with others. A bitter taste rose in my mouth, a cocktail of jealousy and longing.

I had to have him back. Not just for the love I felt, but for the control, the power it gave me. I was a queen in a kingdom of shadows, and he was my crown jewel.

The next day, I stood at his door, my heart a drumbeat of anticipation and fear. The moment he opened the door, my world shifted. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a raw pain that mirrored my own. It was intoxicating.

“I missed you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. But my hands, they spoke a different language. They wrapped around his, a possessive claim. His wince was music to my ears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, my voice low, a purr of menace.

His eyes, wide with fear, were exactly what I wanted. He was trapped, a bird caught in my web.

“Those girls don’t deserve you,” I hissed, my voice laced with venom. “All you need is me. And only me.”

With a decisive pull, I dragged him inside, closing the door on the world. We were alone, two souls caught in a tempestuous dance of love, obsession, and control.

His fear was a sweet nectar, fueling my desire. He was mine now, completely and utterly. I would mold him, shape him into the perfect reflection of my desires. The world outside could wait. This was our moment, our world. A world of two.

I ran my fingers through his hair, the softness a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. His eyes held a mixture of fear and something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher. It intrigued me.

"Remember when I was weak, and you were my strength?" I asked, my voice soft, almost seductive. His eyes flickered, a silent acknowledgement. "I gave you everything, Y/n. My trust, my love, even a part of myself."

I paused, letting the words sink in. "And what did I get in return? Betrayal."

His lips parted to speak, but I silenced him with a gesture.

"Don't," I warned. "Your words are meaningless now."

I leaned in close, my breath warm against his skin. "Now, it's my turn to shape our destiny."

I could feel his fear, a delicious tremor running through him. It was intoxicating. I wanted to break him, to rebuild him in my image. And then, I would possess him completely. Body and soul.

I smiled, a predator's grin. The game had just begun.

A week had passed since I dragged him into this gilded cage I called home. In those seven days, I had transformed from the predator to the caretaker. I cooked, I cleaned, I tended to his every need. I had become the woman I had always pretended to be, the one I thought he wanted. And to my surprise, he seemed to be thawing.

The fear in his eyes had gradually been replaced by a hesitant trust. His body, once tense and rigid, now relaxed under my touch. It was a slow, insidious process, but I was patient. He was mine to keep, and I would ensure it.

I watched him sleep, his face serene in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. There was a vulnerability in his slumber that made my heart ache with a strange tenderness. This was the man who had saved me, the man who had ignited a fire within my soul. And now, he was mine.

Morning brought with it a new routine. I would wake him with soft kisses, the scent of coffee and toast filling the air. His sleepy smile was a reward I craved. We would spend the mornings together, lazy and intimate. I would read to him, my voice a soothing melody that seemed to calm his spirit.

In the afternoons, I would teach him about the world beyond his sheltered existence. He was fascinated by the stories of my life, the danger, the thrill. I painted a picture of a world that was both terrifying and exhilarating, and he listened with rapt attention.

As the days turned into a week, I began to see a change in him. The fear was fading, replaced by a quiet strength. He was learning to rely on me, to trust me. And in that trust, I found a love I never knew existed.

One evening, as we sat by the fireplace, I took his hand in mine. "You are safe here, Y/n," I whispered, my voice soft as velvet. "No one can hurt you."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion I couldn't fathom. "I know," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

I leaned in, our lips brushing together. It was a tentative kiss, filled with unspoken promises. When we pulled apart, I could feel the shift, a seismic change in the dynamics between us. He was no longer the terrified victim. He was becoming my equal.

My world, once a monochromatic canvas of black and white, was now painted with a thousand hues. There was still the darkness, the undercurrent of my past, but it was no longer the dominant force. Love, a foreign concept, was now a vibrant part of my life.

Time passed, and I managed to extricate myself from the underworld. The life of a mafia boss was not one I wanted anymore. I wanted a quiet life, a simple life, with Y/n by my side.

We opened a small cafe, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world. It was a world away from the life I had once known. But in this new reality, I found a happiness I never thought possible.

Y/n thrived in his new role. He was a natural with people, his smile a beacon of warmth. And as always, he attracted attention. Young girls would flock to the cafe, their eyes sparkling with admiration. I watched him interact with them, the same warmth and kindness he had shown me.

A pang of jealousy would sometimes strike, a ghost of my past self. But then he would catch my eye, and with a playful wink, he would send the jealousy packing. I would smile, a mixture of love and amusement.

One evening, as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the cafe, I found myself watching him. He was laughing with a group of young customers, his eyes sparkling with mirth. I felt a surge of protectiveness, a remnant of my past life.

I walked over to him, my arms wrapping around his waist from behind. He turned, his smile widening. "Jealous, my love?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Maybe a little," I admitted.

He chuckled, pulling me closer. "You're mine, remember?" he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

I turned in his arms, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. As we pulled apart, I looked into his eyes, seeing the love and adoration reflected there. I was home.

Days turned into weeks, months, and years. Our love deepened, a rich tapestry woven with threads of passion, trust, and companionship. The cafe became more than just a place of business; it was our sanctuary, a testament to our love story.

And as I watched the world change around us, one thing remained constant: my love for Y/n. He was my everything, my beginning and my end. And in the quiet moments, as we sat together in the warmth of our cafe, I knew I had found my happily ever after.

The end.

[erikatsu]

A MILLION DREAMS — WRIOTHESLEY

ᥫ᭡ SUMMARY: A walk around the Court of Fontaine with Wriothesley leads to an unexpected conversation.

ᥫ᭡ PAIRING: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader

ᥫ᭡ WARNINGS: Fluff. Mentions of starting a family/having kids. Self-ship coded. SFT but minors, ageless, and blanks following will be blocked. 20+ to follow.

ᥫ᭡ WC: 1.2K

❥ SERIES MASTERLIST

The warmth of the sun was a feeling that you had missed. The sounds of bustling shops and people chatting amongst themselves as you walked by them felt like home. You didn’t realize you had a void you needed filled until breathing in the fresh air. The nostalgia was overwhelming and you longed to be back on the open road with your show. Instead you settled on reminiscing as you walked the streets, your arm linked with Wriothesley’s.

The two of you got a lot of looks as you made your way towards the aquabus station. Your faces weren’t familiar, and whispers from those curious told you they were slowly piecing it together. At least, they managed to figure out who Wriothesley was. You were thankful though, since you didn’t want to be recognized. It would be rather hard to explain how you managed to escape death, after all. While everyone that mattered was now aware of your status, you could comfortably walk around Fontaine without worry of being arrested as a fugitive. There were loopholes in laws, and while you may not have reclaimed your honor in your duel, you weren’t able to fight for the same crime twice, nor could you be tried for it.

The walk around town was well needed, Wriothesley deciding to escort you. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be able to stop you from being a menace to society or if he was caught up on his work and genuinely wanted to join you. He never left the Fortress, only doing so if he absolutely had to or if children were somehow involved. You didn’t question it, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to spend time in the open with him.

The aquabus ride was calming, listening to the melusine guide point out what was what along the short trip. Part of you was sad that you were on the way back, but another part knew that you wouldn’t change how things were now. If not for the man beside you, you’d have been back above the surface a lot sooner.

It was funny to think how much he had changed for you. Years ago, you never would have found yourself finding a real place to call home other than the circus. You never would have the belief system or outlooks that you did now. Settling down, starting over… well, the sound of that filled you with more joy than one last hoorah. You could also appreciate the irony of being born for the spotlight, yet belonging to the shadows– behind the scenes.

“You know, I haven’t come to the Fountain of Leuciene before, but I have heard the tales,” you remarked as you approached the said topic choice. “If I had visited back then I would have wished for better turn out or for more tour opportunities. A normal, successful life was not something I had ever pictured for myself.”

He was intrigued by your words, “You think the life in Fortress is a normal way of life?”

“Your Grace, I do believe I get to put on a show for you everyday, do I not?” you teased, causing a soft chuckle to slip past his lips. “Aside from that, the Fortress has much potential. For some, this is all they have. After serving their sentences they lived like normal people in a normal world. Some even finding love here. I think it’s as normal of a place to live as anywhere else. But maybe I don’t understand because I’ve never had a normal life before.”

“Not even in your childhood?” Wriothesley sounded slightly surprised. He wasn’t sure how the House of the Hearth worked. He just knew it was Fontaine’s biggest orphanage and he’d never had the pleasure of being inside.

You shook your head, “My training started two days after I had been brought in from Snezhnaya. Fighting, dancing, espionage, you name it. I was never given an opportunity to ever think about a life outside of it– having a normal job, falling in love, starting a family? I was expected to carry out my orders and devote myself to the Tsaritsa and her cause. None of that has ever been within my reach before.”

“I’ve never pictured someone like you living what some could consider to be a normal life,” he commented, coming to a stop in front of the fountain. “Jokes aside, I didn’t know children was something you wanted.”

You shrugged, looking at all the coins that littered the bottom of the fountain, “They’re not off the table. Like I said, it’s just not something I’ve ever been allowed to think of before. Let’s just say, if it happens it happens.”

Wriothesley wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t even want to keep a pet in the Fortress, thinking it was unfair if not cruel to keep them away from Teyvat’s offerings such as sunlight and green grass to play in. The Fortress definitely was not, in his opinion, a place for children. Honestly, while he did have a soft spot for kids he was terrified of his own. Apart from where lived, the only parents he had ever know were bad people. Of course, he had worked through most of that during his time as a prisoner but he didn’t want to chance any lasting trauma he may have subconsciously buried.

You could tell he was a bit unsettled, but you yourself still weren’t decided. There was a lot that went into a decision such as this other than desire. It had taken you a long time as a child to learn trust and love. It had taken you even longer to open your heart to a deeper, more intimate form of both. Being able to do that for life you created... that was scary.

You looked up at Wriothesley, gently placing your hand on his arm, “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Before bringing a little fish into this world, she needs a better ocean to swim in. Besides the prophecy looming over our heads, I’m not sure if marriage is right for me.”

“Well, you’re certainly full of surprises today,” he jested, unlinking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulder. “Marriage isn’t a necessity for children. Steps can be done backwards to, which is fitting since you never seem to stay inside the box of normalcy. On a serious note, if we did decide to have one, it would be a boy.”

“Sounds to me like there’s really only one sure way to find out who’s right, my dear,” you laughed, reaching into your pocket and grabbing a mora coin. “To all our dreams.”

He watched as you tossed the coin into the fountain, a small smile on his face. He was no stranger to sacrifices, to giving one thing up in sake of the other. Letting go of his worries for the sake of happiness was a form of sacrifice that he’d never pictured having to do. Then again also he’s found himself in quite a few situations he didn’t forsee thanks to you. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done the same for him.

He placed a gentle kiss on top of your head before saying, “I guess we shouldn’t waste any time then.”

[saelterlude]

lc musical clip list pt.4! i'm calling this one, the birthday special!!

(pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7 here)

Why is this the birthday special, well because of this:

51. 28/02/2024, Happy BDay Guo Hongxu! I don't usually upload promovid but uhh he's so cool in this one so, here. Sidenote, Shu Rongbo is very hyper and cute this performance. And Qian Anqi's cute english plss i love her.

52. 03/03/2024 night, Happy BDay Zuo Yiping! Watch also, Cao Muzhi penguin walk across the table, Wu Yihan please watch your steps and don't poke other people's cake!!

(funny coincidence, I happen to watch a Santa Lucia/Mio Fratello clip of Cao Muzhi-Wu Yihan just a couple days before this)

53. 10/03/2024 night, Happy Bday Shu Rongbo and Wu Yihan!! Hehe the way Qian Anqi knocks their heads together and insisted to sing them happy birthday is so cute. Wu Yihan said 'Happy Birthday' before their customary Guiding Light hug. And pls someone translate (or at least transcribed) the closing speech for me, there's a lot of laughing involved, I'm curious. Also, have this bonus stage door clip.

Some funfacts. Since last year they play in the same 4 musicals including Link Click and out of those 4 plays they shared 2 roles. Shu Rongbo played a total of 9 roles while Wu Yihan played 7. (Yes, I am at that level of hyperfixation)

54. 11/03/2024, HBD Teng Chunpeng! LMAO It's you, so of course your promo video would be great! His face during the sofa choreo though. And why are both him and Du Guangyi stomping and jumping on the table so hard. You menaces, please you're gonna break it. The couch trio is also looking cute behind them.

Moving on from the birthdays starting with this special one,

55. 11/03/2024 Valentine's day special, <- Official ver. Forgive my language TENG CHUNPENG DU GUANGYI YOU FCKING TEASE! YOU GEM OF A HUMAN BEING! Have this fancam with the superior angle.

(This makes Du Guangyi the first and only actor who have played all 3 roles in that scene. Congrats!)

56. Special Encore rehearsals/BTS! Special mentions to Teng Chunpeng's fashion sense, Wu Yihan's cute act, Ding Xingchen's falling wig, Zhang Jiahao's IDGAF mood, and Wang Minhui's violent tendencies.

57. 26/02/2024, when I say Cai Qi and Wang Minhui have the best dynamic, this is what I meant.

58. 29/02/2024, watch Ji Xiaokun and Guo Hongxu's "Oi!" "Oi."

59. 01/03/2024, Look at them stumbling through singing "Guiding Light" and it's a Wu Yihan-Shu Rongbo duo which means hug! Also Wu Yihan, why are you a menace at holding hands, this time with Zou Ziyue.

60. 03/03/2024 day, why is there a piglet??? Why are you seasoning the piglet??? Why are you stepping on the piglet?? Why is the piglet bowing?? piglet??

61. 04/03/2024, Bai Zhuoming being extra sassy and playful on the couch makes me so happy. Of course Cai Lu also becomes playful in response. Typical Guiding Light mistake also causes Wang Minhui to crack.

62. 07/03/2024, Guo Hongxu putting up the wrong foot and stumbling on the sofa choreo.

63. 07/03/2024, same performance as above, Ji Xiaokun being annoying <3. When other pairs hug, they wrestle.

64. 10/03/2024 day, Mooom! Cai Qi and Wang Minhui are fighting instead of doing rock-paper-scissors again.

65. 09/03/2024 day, uuuhh Wu Yihan sitting on the counter like that with those lights and shadows during Guiding Light is creepy.

66. 09/03/20204 night, love me some Du Guangyi shenanigans, the way he just gives up on the handshake and walk off the table plss and him teasing Deng Xianling during the closing speech. Speaking of, she brings out the bat and forces their arms to form the heart. Then there's Bai Zhuoming being cute and the little shimmy dance he does.

67. 09/03/2024 night, bonus to the one above. Du Guangyi last minute adlib was unexpected but very enjoyable. Also, I love the contrast between his and Bai Zhuoming's tutting.

That's all for now!

Bonus clip with Bai Zhuoming! The song "Number 7" from "Fan Letter" musical is really good, I'm obssesed. But special performance where they're joined by their alternate cast? And his alternate cast is, Shu Rongbo? Even better!! They're kinda in their own world too. Here's a close up. Their voices go so well together!

(I swear they're playing something on that paper, and that makes it 3 musicals I know where they share the same role. Is it time I made a venn diagram?)

so at which point do i admit this brainrot is slowly but surely turning from linkclick focused to actor focused?

[aldbooks]

helloI stopped by to say hello and ask you for a scene from Lucien and Elain.Whatever you want to share ❤️❤️ If it's about love, much better 😂😂😜I love how you write ❤️❤️❤️

You were probably hoping for some fluff but…. It’s me.

TW: depictions of anxiety/PTSD, SA

—-

Elain pushed through the crowd of half drunk faeries searching desperately for an escape from the overly friendly male who was, even now, dogging her heels, like a blood hound on the scent of it's prey.

He had approached her where she stood in a corner of the dancefloor, observing the couples that spun and twirled across the room in a sea of sparkling color, smiling to herself. He stepped far too close to be considered appropriate for a stranger she'd not even been introduced to, placing a proprietary hand on her back as he asked if she'd like to dance. When she had tried to demure, sidling out of his touch, he'd followed, seemingly unperturbed by her reticence. In fact, it only seem to encourage him and he continued to press his suit until she, quite literally, ran from him. Even then, he had followed, though his words and his tone had turned decidedly menacing as he spat curses and insults at her for 'daring to deny him'. This only pushed her feet faster.

As she moved through the crowd, she looked around for someone to intervene. The swirling darkness she had expected to appear not long after the male had first appeared had never come and she'd eventually spotted Azriel on the opposite side of the room. He looked to be in a quiet but heated argument with a red haired female in priestess robes. Alright, so the Shadowsinger, and apparently his shadows, were both distracted. No help from that quarter.

Rhysand and Cassian were both fully wrapped up in their mates, so neither they nor her sisters would be of any help as she was sure they were all oblivious to the world around them, or even that there were other people in it. Amren was perched in Varian's lap, dangerously close to making a public spectacle and Mor... was nowhere to be seen.

Interspersed among the crowd she saw a few familiar faces, random courtiers and warriors, even Helion, though she didn't know any of them well enough to hope for their intervention.

She could feel the male behind her growing increasingly belligerent as he attempted to close the gap between them and, just when she'd begun to despair of finding any help, she caught a glimpse of familiar red, just before she nearly slammed into his massive body.

Her racing heart stuttered in her chest as large, warm hands wrapped around her arms, steadying her, and she blinked up into the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, the features so starkly handsome, even the ragged scar through his left eye could not detract from their appeal.

"Elain?" auburn brows pushed together in concern as Lucien looked down at her. She could feel it through the bond, the urge to protect that he so ruthlessly kept in check. Normally, she appreciated his restraint, but right now...

She heard the male approaching behind her, his words so filthy, they drew gasps from those around him. She saw Lucien glance up and and behind her in surprise and- well, when asked about it later, she could not have said what made her do it, but suddenly her hands were wrapped around the lapels of his jacket, drawing his attention back to her as she muttered an apology and then.... she kissed him.

---

Lucien felt the insistent tug, both on his person and through the ties that bound them together and felt his body respond to her call before he could process what was happening. The moment her lips touched his, he froze.

It was, perhaps, the strangest feeling he'd ever encountered, and not even his extensive vocabulary seemed able to find the words to describe it. One part of him, the part that was bound to her, rejoiced, urging him to meet her demand, to take her in his arms and devour her.

Another part, one that, perhaps, had not healed as thoroughly as he'd thought- or rather, the part of him that had opted to forget rather than process the memories that haunted him, surged forward in a torrent of vicious emotion. Anger, disgust, self-loathing. This was not happening. Not again. She could not have him again.

She's dead. Some voice in the back of his mind rushed to say. It is not her, she's gone. You're safe. She will never touch you again. He could still hear the sickening crush of bone and flesh as the rock smashed her hand...

Still, he could not stop his mind's reaction as it fought to overpower the demands of his body. Ice crept through his veins, extinguishing the fire and he fought a wave of sickness.

Some other, small part of him was miraculously aware of his surroundings as it tried to process what was happening and why. He felt his left eye scanning his surroundings until it honed in on a male standing a few feet behind her. The one he'd seen only a moment ago, striding up behind her in a black rage. He'd recognized the look on his face, had seen it more than he'd cared to on his father's face when he'd come for his mother. Slowly, anger swept through him, replacing both the lust and the dread, as he began to piece together what had led them to this moment.

His hands, seemingly of their own accord, had made their way to her waist and he forced himself into a relaxed appearance, as though he had expected her, while he waited for the male to leave. As soon as he had, Lucien stepped back, hastily releasing her.

Elain seemed to stumble forward slightly, blinking up at him with a dazed expression. "Wha-?" The half finished word sounded more like a breathless exhale and he desperately tried to compose himself, refusing to let himself touch her again, despite the yearning in his chest. He could barely look at her as shame at his remembered humiliation warred in him, heating the skin of his neck to a flush.

"He's gone," he managed to rasp, feeling bile burn the back of his throat. He felt himself scanning the room for the quickest exit. He needed to get out. Now.

"What?" she repeated. He braved a quick glance at her, seeing her eyes clear as she blinked at him in confusion.

"The male who was following you. He's gone."

"Oh!" She started, glancing behind her as though she'd forgotten why she'd run to him in the first place. He could not even contemplate at the moment why she had run to him of all people and not one of her sisters, or the Shadowsinger she seemed so fond of. Truthfully, he couldn't contemplate much of anything right now beyond a hasty retreat. "Thank you."

Her words drew his attention briefly back to her as she frowned up at him. Whether it was concern, or something else, he didn't bother to find out. Years of training and good breeding allowed him to bow and offer a brief 'happy to be of service', before he turned on his heel and fled. At least his manners had not failed him in that.

He thought he might have heard her say something else, might have heard his name, but he paid it no mind as he stumbled out into the night air, the memories he'd managed to hold at bay before, now flooded him as he fell against a tree. The moment his hands touched the bark, he was no longer in the Night Court, but in the forests of Spring. Hands bound by the cursed blue stone, chained to the trunk of a tree, unable to free himself, helpless to do anything but watch as she smiled at him, the curve of her lips feline as she prowled closer, intent on having her way once again...

---

Once more, Elain found herself pushing through the crowd on a chase, only this time, she was not the one being pursued.

The moment their lips had met, she'd been overwhelmed by a desperate need unlike any she'd ever felt before. It had taken her by surprise and she'd nearly not been able to control herself as she felt the fierce tug of the bond, pulling her towards him. Some other sense, however, had managed to clear the fog in her mind enough to register that, not only was he not kissing her back, but he'd gone completely rigid.

She'd felt his hands on her waist, and had felt his body rearrange itself into a casual stance, but she'd still felt the tension radiating through him. Had felt the odd mix of emotions that were practically blasting through the bond. Lust, fear, want, anger, desire, disgust- shame.

He'd let her go so abruptly, she nearly stumbled into him again but he made no move to right her this time. She blinked up at him, trying to clear the mess of thoughts in her mind as she tried to process his mood, it was still a jumble she could not interpret, nor was his demeanor. To anyone else, he would have appeared utterly unfazed, coolly detached even. But she could see the tightness in his jaw, the paleness of his skin, even as a blush tried to overtake his features. She noticed that he would not look at her as she felt a steady pulse of shame from him. Like he'd done something wrong and feared her judgment. It made her heart ache.

Before she could even begin to guess why he felt that way, he'd excused himself, making a beeline for the door. Without thought, she followed him.

Outside, she watched with growing concern as his body weaved back and forth, his gait unsteady. When he stumbled into a tree, her steps sped up into a run as he all but crashed to his knees, retching in the grass.

She dropped to his side, reaching for him and nearly yelped when he flinched away from her so violently he nearly knocked her over. He scrambled away from her, his back pressing against the tree, which he clung to. "No," he snarled, the words half pleading. His eyes though... they seemed to look right through her, as though they weren't seeing her at all.

When she reached for him again, she felt a heavy wave of magic roll over her. She did not even have time to feel fear or panic at the return of the power she'd thought was dormant, before a vision overtook her, more clear than anything she'd seen before.

She was in another forest, greener, lusher, warmer. She could feel the rough scrape of bark against her back as she struggled against something. Glancing down, she saw blue stone cuffs at her wrist, attached to a thick chain lashed to the tree at her back, meant to keep her in place. Could feel the foul magic that pulsed from them, snuffing out her own power and making her feel, sick, empty.

A lilting, feminine voice spoke nearby and she looked up into the face of a startlingly beautiful woman with clear blue eyes and thick blond hair that spilled from beneath the hood of her robe, but beauty held no desire for her. All she felt was disgust as she reached out, running her hand on Elain's body only- it wasn't her body. As she looked down again, she saw the tips of flaming red hair, the flat, muscled planes of her chest where her shirt was undone, saw the laces of her pants already undone, the female's second hand attempting to tug them free.

"No," the words left her mouth on a deep, masculine, rasp and nausea rolled though her as she understood, with startling clarity, that what she was seeing was not a vision of the future, but a memory of the past. Lucien's memory.

Nausea churned her gut as she was forced to watch, as she felt the fear and humiliation that suffocated his frantic mind. Felt the utter degradation of a male so strong, brought low in an instant, his body no longer his own, the control entirely out of his hands. He was powerless.

She could hear the words he said to her, his desperate attempts to stop what now seemed inevitable. "I'm a mated male now." Those words had meant something to him, even then, even when he hadn't known her.

The rest came in fragments. The relief when Feyre had appeared, followed swiftly by oily shame. The horror laced with a hint of satisfaction as Feyre had punished the female. The dawning realization of just how much power Rhysand had once held over him- what someone with that power might have made him do...

She felt his disgust as he recounted his prior interactions with Ianthe, the way he tried to justify what had happened, tried to make it easier for himself to process the wrongness of it.

"Please don't tell Elain."

Mercifully, the memory released her then, in truth, she felt like she'd been thrust back into her own body to find her cheeks wet with tears and a sour taste in her mouth. Lucien still stared at her, pale and trembling slightly, but he seemed to have calmed somewhat, seemed to be present once more as he watched her warily, waiting for her reaction. She wasn't sure how he knew what she'd seen, maybe it was obvious on her face.

Slowly, so slowly, she inched forward. He held himself very still but did not flinch this time as she reached for him, softly brushing her fingers over his cheek.

"Lucien." His name was a uneven breath. A broken sigh of sympathy as she began to add more pieces to the puzzle that was her mate.

For a long, quiet moment, neither of them said anything as he reached back for her and she, for once, allowed him to hold her, allowed them both to take comfort in the thread that tied them both together and she reflected on what she knew of him.

It disturbed her to find so much of herself reflected in him- this strong, steady male who ached to be loved and accepted just as she did. To not be alone even when surrounded by others.To be seen and understood.

Another broken dreamer.

[popjunkie42]

You're such a doll. 🥹❤️

🚀🏷️🎁

I was traveling this weekend so just catching up with fic asks!!

🚀Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

Lol I was just discussing this on Sunday! I absolutely outline but I am definitely a lazy, create-as-I-go pantser with a lot of writing. I'll generally get a big burst of creativity when I come up with a new story I'm excited about and I know the broad strokes of everything as well as a few scenes that come to me. I might write it down, I might just remember it. I like the story to unfold as I'm writing it, and a lot of times I'm solving plot problems and discovering emotional through lines as I write as well. It's a messy process and I love it. :) I will say Psyche-Eros is going to be 60k+ words for part one, and I just did a bonkers detailed chapter-by-chapter outline to keep me on track, so I definitely need it for longer works...

🏷️Is there a tag you like to search when looking for fanfics to read?

Honestly the only thing I search is for new Feyre/Rhysand fics! I'm lucky to be tapped in here and get a lot of recommendations from people. And I've found so many good pieces and writers just by searching for new Feysand fics on AO3!

🎁Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Ok I shared this a bit elsewhere but I think I've already posted a lot of my fave bits from Psyche-Eros so you get something new :) This is an Azris meeting UTM...be gentle, it is my first Azris.

“And how is your dear circle? Is The Morrigan in hiding from her father? He looks at me strangely every time I mention how much I miss her glowing countenance.”

Azriel was still, a dark storm brewing.

Eris knew. Only in seeing Azriel, in the hard iron bars of his mental shield, had he been able to dredge up their names, bits of their faces, like pulling memories out of sticky tar. Their names felt heavy on his tongue.

“I’m not speaking about them.”

“Won’t you? And don’t you want to know what your illustrious High Lord has been up to? Just this evening I watched him make a low fae dance for hours until his feet were bleeding, and then knock him unconscious so quickly his face cracked on the marble floor. Apparently Amarantha thought he had sneered at her in the hall.” No reaction. “We all knew Rhysand was a bit of a monster, but he truly seems to have found his calling in this place. Who knew he would take to servitude so well.”

The lilt of his voice was a taunt, a plea for reaction. He wouldn’t stand for stoic silences today. “Does he even know you’re here?”

The barest hint of a smile, the corner of Azriels’ lips twitching. His eyes like dark coals. “I came to see you.”

Eris huffed a laugh. “How flattering, that you came Under the Mountain just to needle me for information. You’re like a hungry cat. I should never have fed you. Now you won’t stop coming back.”

A smile, a flash of sharp teeth. Menace glistening in shadow. His dark wings rustled as he pushed off of the table where he had been leaning. His steps indeed like a stalking cat. Until he stood in front of him, his wings casting a shadow over the high lord’s son, the fire crackling and looming behind him.

“I wasn’t hungry. But you fed me anyway.” His leg closer, parting Eris’s knees on the couch. Azriel leans down, his eyes going to Eris’s lips. “Says more about you than me, I would think.”

[succubus-interactivefiction]

Another FG spoiler!! With this one I just want to mention that Jannie and Laura are officially the only poly route available. Things will get interesting if you manage to work that out. So.

SPOILER WARNING

Jannie shoves Laura back against the wall, pictures jumping and rattling in their frames at the impact as the furious woman looms over the other, unbridled rage dancing in her eyes as she stares down at the one who dares to try and get between her and her love. “I know what you are trying to do little girl, but you will never have her. She is mine, MINE you hear me. You will never understand her like I do.”

For her part Laura simply smiles up at Jannie, eyes swirling with a mix of amusement, disdain, and fury. “How will you claim her if she doesn't even know who you are anymore, doesn’t even know what you are, monster.” Jannie cringes internally and keeps her discomfort from showing, yet as much as she tries to hide it she knows that the tiny woman can sense her barb had an effect. “That’s what I thought. Unless you tell her the truth of who you really are she will never be yours and you are far too scared to even think about risking that, aren't you”

The tall woman growls and shifts close, trying to reassert control of the situation, but it does not work. The tiny blue haired woman chuckles and places one hand on Jannies chest, easily pushing her back as she moves away from the wall. “You think that you will have her simply because of some short fling the two of you shared six years ago? Oh no sweetie, no that will never happen. You see I have been here picking up all the pieces of her delicate soul that you left scattered and torn in your carelessness.” Jannie finds her back bumping into the wall behind her as the shadows seem to coil inwards, looming over her, giving the tiny model a menacing air that had not been there a moment ago.

“You will never have her and your tricks will not change the fact that I know her in a way you never could.” Jannie growls as she attempts to stand taller, her own anger pushing back against Laura as the two try to assert themselves over the other. Laura smirks and opens her mouth to say something but the sound of feet coming down the stairs interrupts the two of them and they quickly shift away from each other as the object of their shared affection comes around the corner.

“Sorry that took so long” Nancy beams at the two of them, “Work has been crazy with everything going on.” She stops and her eyes narrow as she takes in the two women. “Is everything alright?”

“Yup, why wouldn’t it be?” Jannie grins.

“Just getting to know each other” Laura chuckles.

“Oooookay, well are we watching this movie or not? I’ve been dying to see it!” Nancy steps between the two as she heads for the couch and flops down playfully. She doesn’t notice either woman throwing glares at the other, her mind entirely focused on their get together as she fiddles with the remote to the television.

“She’s mine” Jannie mouths silently. Laura doesn’t even bother to respond as she settles onto the couch next to Nancy. But once she sits on the opposite side of the couch, settling Nancy between them, she notices the middle finger Laura is giving her behind their friend’s back. Fury rises up again but she finds herself smirking at the gesture. Nancy will be hers in the end and she knows it.

Note: Please remember all these spoiler scenes are not final and I may change them once they are actually being put into the game.

[closingwaters]

PARTIES: @itzbridiebitch @closingwaters

TIMING: Last Week

SUMMARY: Bridie is having fun making someone dance for her, and Teagan joins in to make the fun a little bloodier.

WARNINGS: Talks of torture

There was simply nothing Bridie hated more than assholes. Unfortunately, in her line of work, they always seemed to find their way into her club and make other peoples nights miserable. 

Fortunately, she had ways to deal with these things. 

Chad (at least, she assumed his name was Chad. No one who was as much of a jerk had a name that didn’t sound like something out of a stereotypical frat house) had been a fucking menace all evening. And not in the cute endearing way. After watching him absolutely kill the vibe for so many poor people just trying to enjoy their evenings, she decided she’d had enough. So Bridie did what Bridie did best. 

And that was how she’d gotten there. In the dark corner of they alley outside, a wicked, feral gleam of a smile on her face, watching into the twentieth straight minute that Chad had been dancing the Cotton Eye Joe. Bridie laughed as he stumbled over his own to feet, hopping back and forth like a man possessed. Well, not possessed. But definitely compelled. And she had no intentions on letting the man stop. “Pick up the pace, Chad, you’re falling off tempo.” The man’s face was a dazed, vacant smile, but he did as he was told. 

She had been so lost in the reverie of watching her handywork, she hadn’t heard the footsteps. She saw a shadow on the ground beside her, and she spun around. “Oh hi! We’re um. Just having a little outdoor dance party! See?”

Wicked’s Rest, as small as it was in comparison to other cities Teagan had been to, seemed so vast at night. Maybe it was the way certain things were able to trapeze around with no sun as a threat. Or maybe it was the fact that darkness was so vast and endless.

Regardless, Teagan didn’t mind. She adored the sun, the way it warmed her skin, but under the veil of Mother Night, her cousins—the lampade’s home, there was a kind of freedom that light didn’t bestow. Things were easier to cover. Much like the scene Teagan walked in on in that otherwise dismissable alleyway. She felt it before she laid eyes on it. The lovely and familiar buzz that crept into any fae’s skin when another was near.

“Hello,” The nix smiled devilishly, eyes scanning the fae woman in front of her. Given the way she was laughing and making the idiot dance for her, Teagan could only guess she was a faun. How fascinating it always was to watch a cousin in their element. “No need for that, lass,” Teagan stepped forward with a giggle. “Don’t you feel that buzzing? One of the family. You’re safe ‘round me.”

The skittishness of being caught red handed when she was in the process of a very amusing kill had temporarily eclipsed the little zip of electric, magical instinct that said the fae were close by. Bridie paused, taking in the little details of the other fae, trying to gauge just what they were. She couldn’t quite be certain. All Bridie knew was the smile on their face spoke of the fun kind of trouble that could be had. 

“You took me by surprise, honey. I’m not used to an audience. Though I think Chad is deserving of an audience. Hey, Chad, babycakes, I think it’s time to switch songs. Time for the Cupid Shuffle!” Bridie was gleeful, snapping her hand to indicate an inaudible, imaginary change in songs. “I want those kicks nice and high, Chad!” Ignoring the man as he nearly split his jeans trying to kick his leg as high as he could, the faun turned back to the unidentified fae.

A wild, yet somehow warm smile crinkled the corners of her mouth. “I promise, I’m usually way better about noticing folks and saying hi to y’all. But this one has my full attention at the moment.” Or at least he did until a pretty new friend walked over. “What are you called?”

A devilish smile tugged on each side of Teagan’s lips. Oh how she missed partaking in mischievousness with her fellow fae. She couldn’t help herself, closing the distance and securing her own seat to a show of her new friend’s making. Her eyes danced between the one named Chad and whoever this faun was. Teagan thought she was pretty, gorgeous even. 

Flashes of an evening filled with playing with the poor dwt who had the audacity to bother the fae danced in every flutter of thought. Teagan grazed her fingers down her companion’s arm, plucking her hand into her own. “My name is Teagan.” She placed a soft kiss on the back of the woman’s hand. “And you, darling? Who am I going to spend the evening with?”

Oh, Bridie liked that smile. That wicked, impish, playful smile. Like an agreement to revel in the maenad’s little games, whether they be bacchanalian delights, or treating an irksome mortal like the silly little plaything it could be. 

Gentle fingers traced down the faun’s arm, and the wild smile on her face widened, her cheeks causing her eyes to crinkle. Warm lips brushed over the back of Bridie’s hand, a soft delighted hum catching in her throat as her focus shifted fully to the pretty fae before her.  “Teagan is a pretty name,” The faun said, looking her new friend up and down. “It definitely suits you.” Twisting their hands so Teagan’s was on top, Bridie mirrored the gesture as she brought Teagan’s hand to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “You’re spending your night with someone called Bridie.” 

It was such a delight to watch the gleam in Bridie’s eyes brighten. How could it not? Not only was she in her element, but she was being joined by a fellow fae. That always had a way of sparking even more fun. Personally, Teagan preferred a wetter and bloodier approach, but she could make due with what was in front of her. She was always rather good at adapting. Besides, if the toy proved to be boring, she could always focus on the faun. 

“Bridie suits you as well.” Teagan dragged her finger along Bridie’s jaw, ending at her chin to tilt it upward. She leaned in, placing a small peck to the faun’s cheek before looking back at the dancing man. “What’s next for this lad? I like to make things a little bloody, but you’re the director. I’ll follow your lead.”

If Bridie had any concerns about her night being boring with the man slowly dancing himself to death in the alley, she was quickly being proven wrong with the sudden appearance of Teagan. She bit her lip as the fae titled her chin up and kissed her cheek. God, she missed partying with the fae. 

“Ooh, that is an excellent question my pretty friend.” Her gaze shifted back to Chad. Ugh, Chad. “Death by line dance is usually a lengthy process. It’s endlessly entertaining, but I love to shake things up once in a while.” The faun cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow raised. “What’s your idea of a good time babes? I like seeing what other people find fun. I don’t mind a little mess, as long as it doesn’t get tied to this place,” she jerked her head toward the club. “It’s an all you can eat buffet in there, and I’m not about to jeopardize that.”

“Hmm…” Teagan tapped on her chin, looking around to find the best course of action. It was a pity they couldn’t make a mess. Spattering blood across the ground was always such a pretty sight. She hardly even minded the burn it caused her skin. The sensation excited her, even. Perhaps a change in scene was in order. If the two of them were going to have proper fun, they needed a secluded area where they could be carefree. The woods weren’t far off, Teagan didn’t think. And the fellow didn’t look terribly heavy in case things went sour. 

First things first, though, the nix wanted a small taste of her new friend.  

“Why don’t we venture to the woods then? Just a short walk.” Teagan leaned into Bridie, maneuvering around so her hands were on either side of the faun. Her lips found a soft piece of flesh on her neck, and she nipped at it gently, kissing it immediately before trailing up to meet Bridie’s lips with hers. “Then I can make that blood pour out of him with no worries at all.”

Bridie hummed along to nonexistent music as Teagan thought. She glanced over at Chad, stumbling his way through the ‘now kick’ section of the Cupid Shuffle. Poor bastard was in for a rough night. Well. Rough for him. Fun for them. 

“A short walk to the woods,” Bridie echoed. Her breath hitched in her throat at the teeth that grazed the delicate skin of her neck before lips brushed over it in a kiss. Wide doe eyes watched carefully before fluttering shut as lips met hers. The supposed innocence her eyes may have portrayed was gone in an instant as the maenad chased after Teagan’s lips, pulling her back into a hungry kiss. “That sounds like a perfect plan. I think you should lead the way.”

Without hesitation, Teagan took Bridie’s hand, beckoning Chad to follow with the other. It all felt so familiar, so innate and easy to fall into such a role. As if the fae had known each other for years and they were simply picking up where they left off. In some ways, that was true. Teagan believed in past lives, souls recognizing each other despite eons of time passing. Perhaps that was what was happening. 

The very thought made her happy, relief filling her. Despite her efforts to isolate in her current form, there was comfort in knowing other versions of herself weren’t so terrified of connection. Bridie, be it as it may that she was fae, likely wouldn’t be a venture Teagan would pursue again. Or maybe she would. She’d been surprising herself lately with Leticia and Arden. Only time would tell, though.

“We’re here.” The trio sauntered into a woody clearing, a perfect place to splay blood any way they wished. “Now Chad, why don’t you continue to give us two a show while I tend to Miss Bridie a little longer?” Teagan waved Chad off, pulling Bridie into her as she retrieved a small blade from beneath her shirt. She brandished it for Bridie to see, kissing the faun deeply with a giggle. “Think we can manage a thousand cuts on the lad?”

Hands laced together, the faun practically skipped alongside the other fae. She still wasn’t quite certain what kind of fae Teagan was, but Bridie knew with their kind, like called out to like. That buzz of familiarity that let them know they were safe, that they were with their own kind- feeling that was like another fae calling out and saying I am here, there you are. It had always been a comfort to the faun. 

It had been far too long since she’d found herself in the comfort of the woods. Bridie let go of Teagan’s hand a moment as she twirled in the moonlight, taking in a deep breath. She delighted in watching the other fae give the man orders. “High kicks, Chad. High kicks!” She demanded as Teagan made her way back to her. 

Bridie’s eyebrows raised as the knife gleamed in the moonlight. She wriggled her eyebrows a moment before Teagan pulled her in a deep kiss. The maenad tangled a hand in the other woman’s hair before she pulled herself away to take in the knife. She ran a delicate finger along the blade, careful not to hurt herself. “That’s a great song. But I think we can manage a thousand and one at least.” She’d lowered her head to the fae’s neck, nibbling at the skin below her ear. “What do you think?”

How could anyone focus with their skin buzzing and Bridie’s insatiable nature? She was just as hungry as Teagan was—maybe hungrier. The Vite at her neck did nothing to help the nix’s focus, but with the help of her self-restraint, she got her mind to dedicate itself to another source of fun. 

Right. Chad. A thousand and one cuts.

Teagan leaned into Bridie one last time, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She grinned, the expression far too soft for the violent nature of her next action. “We can go as high as we want, dearie.” Teagan made the first cut on Chad’s shoulder, the laceration small and seemingly inconsequential. A thousand more and how would that feel? It certainly had to break that empty smile of his, didn’t it? Guess they’d have to see. 

“How about you take the next few, lass? Love watching a woman have her fun. Show me what you can do.” Teagan chuckled as she flipped the knife, catching the blade to hand it over to Bridie. “Or should we do it together? Lady’s choice.” 

This was becoming a habit with Bridie. Following people down rabbit holes of their darkest desires. There wasn’t even euphoria to feast on. Not among her fellow fae. No, this was just for the other fae’s enjoyment. Well. Teagan’s enjoyment, and Bridie’s enjoyment, and Bridie’s determination to not have a fucking creep bothering her patrons. 

She studied the knife, her eyes trailing up from the tip of the blade, up the arm that held it, and finally to Teagan’s face. The faun’s tongue flicked out as she licked her lips, her eyes continuing to flicker over the woman. 

“Hmm,” the hum rumbled in her chest as she pretended to contemplate her options. “Maybe you teach me? Show me how it’s done?” She batted wide, doe like eyes at the woman in a manner that was anything but innocent. “Doing it together just sounds like so much more fun.”

Wicked’s Rest was just so full of surprises. With so many things to be found, the town a beautiful beacon for people like Bridie and Teagan. The nix had found a faun, and in turn, she discovered that most of everything she wanted or needed was there. With a smile, Teagan pulled Bridie in, eyes closed and foreheads connecting a final time before letting herself fall into night of fun the fae had planned. 

“I’ll teach you.” Teagan nodded, wrapping her hand around Bridie’s wrist to guide it. “We’ll have all the fun together.” Another kiss, and she pulled away, the faun in tow. Another slice, and Teagan chuckled, her heart full. Another fae found, and she was home. 

[gloriabomfim]

Certainly! Here are the first nine montages with titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for Joyce and Spookie in Spookie's scary places:

Montage 1: "Joyful Intrusion"

Joyce, with her perpetual happiness, enters Spookie's eerie, dimly lit castle.

Joyce: (Excitedly) Wow, this place is sooo spooky! Hi there, Spookie!

Spookie: (Scaringly) Boo! (Trying to be intimidating)

Joyce: (Laughing) Oh, Spookie, you're such a funny scaremonger!

Montage 2: "Joyous Laughter in the Shadows"

Joyce's laughter echoes through the dark corridors, while Spookie tries to maintain a menacing presence.

Joyce: (Giggling uncontrollably) Whee! This is the spookiest place ever!

Spookie: (Growling) I'm supposed to be scary, Joyce!

Montage 3: "Scary Hide-and-Seek"

Joyce and Spookie play hide-and-seek in the haunted mansion.

Joyce: (Cheerfully) Ready or not, here I come, Spookie!

Spookie: (Whispering menacingly) I'll find the perfect hiding spot.

Montage 4: "Joyful Jump Scares"

Joyce gleefully jumps out at Spookie, causing her to shriek in surprise.

Joyce: (Jumping out) Boo!

Spookie: (Startled, but still trying to be scary) Agh! You got me!

Montage 5: "Joyce's Happy Ghost Friends"

Joyce starts making friendly ghostly apparitions in Spookie's castle.

Joyce: (Waving) Hi, ghosties! Let's all be friends!

Spookie: (Annoyed) Joyce, you're supposed to be scared of them!

Montage 6: "Spookie's Spooky Decorations"

Joyce excitedly admires Spookie's scary decorations.

Joyce: (Clapping) Spookie, your decor is delightfully dreadful!

Spookie: (Proudly) Well, at least someone appreciates it.

Montage 7: "Happy and Spooky Tea Party"

Joyce and Spookie sit down for a tea party amidst eerie surroundings.

Joyce: (Pouring tea) Would you like sugar or fright with your tea, Spookie?

Spookie: (Reluctantly) Sugar, please.

Montage 8: "Joyce's Sing-Along in the Haunted Ballroom"

Joyce starts singing a happy tune in the haunted ballroom, while Spookie plays the organ.

Joyce: (Singing) Tra-la-la! This is such a fun place, Spookie!

Spookie: (Playing the organ menacingly) It's supposed to be eerie, Joyce!

Montage 9: "Joyce and Spookie's Friendly Scaring Competition"

Joyce and Spookie challenge each other to see who can scare a passing ghost the most.

Joyce: (Excitedly) Ready, Spookie? Let's see who can be scarier!

Spookie: (Competitive) You're on, Joyce!

These montages showcase Joyce's unrelenting happiness in the midst of Spookie's scary world, with Spookie attempting to maintain her spooky persona even in the face of Joyce's relentless cheerfulness.

Certainly! Here are the next ten montages with titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for Joyce and Spookie in Spookie's scary places:

Montage 10: "Joyful and Spooky Artistry"

Joyce and Spookie engage in a creative session, painting eerie and cheerful scenes together.

Joyce: (Excitedly) Let's combine spooky and happy in our masterpiece, Spookie!

Spookie: (Grinning) That sounds delightfully wicked, Joyce!

Montage 11: "Ghostly Game Night"

Joyce and Spookie invite the friendly ghosts for a game night with board games and ghoulish treats.

Joyce: (Rolling dice) Who's ready for a game of Haunted House Monopoly?

Friendly Ghost #1: (Floating by) I am!

Montage 12: "Joyful Costume Parade"

Joyce and Spookie organize a costume parade with ghosts, goblins, and other spooky creatures.

Joyce: (Clapping) You all look amazing in your spooky costumes!

Spookie: (Admiring the creativity) Indeed, Joyce. Everyone went all out!

Montage 13: "Singing in the Spooky Choir"

Joyce and Spookie join the spooky choir, with Joyce's cheerful voice blending with eerie harmonies.

Joyce: (Singing with enthusiasm) La-la-la! Spookie, I love your choir!

Spookie: (Appreciative) Thank you, Joyce. Your voice adds a unique touch.

Montage 14: "Happy and Spooky Dance-off"

Joyce and Spookie challenge each other to a dance-off, switching between joyful and spooky moves.

Joyce: (Twirling and laughing) I call this the Haunted Hoedown!

Spookie: (Doing a creepy dance) And this is the Ghostly Shuffle!

Montage 15: "Joyce's Friendly Pumpkin Carving"

Joyce carves friendly faces on pumpkins while Spookie adds the spooky details.

Joyce: (Smiling) Look, Spookie, our pumpkins are both cute and scary!

Spookie: (Proud) Perfect blend, Joyce!

Montage 16: "Ghosts and Giggles Storytime"

Joyce reads spooky stories to the friendly ghosts, adding her cheerful commentary.

Joyce: (Reading) And then the ghost said, "Boo!" But it was a friendly "Boo"!

Friendly Ghost #2: (Chuckling) We love your stories, Joyce!

Montage 17: "Joyce's Scary Puppet Show"

Joyce puts on a puppet show featuring spooky characters and happy resolutions.

Joyce: (Using a spooky voice) Ooh, I'm a scary ghost! But wait, I just want a friend!

Audience Ghosts: (Laughing) Hooray for happy endings!

Montage 18: "Spookie's Spooky Magic Show"

Spookie performs magic tricks, turning scary objects into cheerful surprises.

Spookie: (Waving her wand) Watch closely, Joyce. Spooky becomes happy!

Joyce: (Clapping) You're the spookiest magician with the happiest results, Spookie!

Montage 19: "Happy and Spooky Picnic"

Joyce and Spookie enjoy a picnic with a blend of eerie and delightful snacks.

Joyce: (Munching on a spooky cupcake) Spookie, this picnic is perfectly balanced!

Spookie: (Nodding) Like us, Joyce, a perfect blend of happy and spooky!

These montages showcase the harmonious blend of joy and spookiness in Joyce and Spookie's interactions within Spookie's eerie world, where both their personalities contribute to a unique and delightful atmosphere.

Certainly! Here are the final eleven montages with titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for Joyce and Spookie in Spookie's scary places:

Montage 20: "Joyce's Spooky Comedy Night"

Joyce entertains the spooky residents with a stand-up comedy show filled with cheerful jokes.

Joyce: (Laughing) Why did the ghost go to the party? To boo-gie down!

Audience Ghosts: (Laughing) That's a good one, Joyce!

Montage 21: "Spookie's Haunted House Tour"

Spookie leads a tour through her spooky mansion, highlighting both the scary and fun aspects.

Spookie: (Guiding) And here we have the creepy crypt, where we also keep the candy stash!

Joyce: (Admiring) It's a spooky-sweet combo, Spookie!

Montage 22: "Happy and Spooky Arts and Crafts"

Joyce and Spookie engage in arts and crafts, creating a mix of joyful and eerie creations.

Joyce: (Crafting) I'm making a friendly ghost, Spookie!

Spookie: (Crafting) And I'm making a smiling bat!

Montage 23: "Ghostly Bake-Off"

Joyce and Spookie compete in a baking contest, creating spooky and happy treats.

Joyce: (Decorating cupcakes) My cupcakes are both cute and scary, just like us!

Spookie: (Decorating cookies) And my cookies are wickedly delicious!

Montage 24: "Joyce's Ghostly Friends Tea Party"

Joyce hosts a tea party for her friendly ghost pals amidst spooky decorations.

Joyce: (Pouring tea) Cheers to our happy haunting, dear ghosts!

Friendly Ghost #3: (Raising their tea cups) Hear, hear!

Montage 25: "Spookie's Scary Stories with a Twist"

Spookie tells scary stories but adds cheerful and unexpected endings.

Spookie: (Narrating) And just when it seemed all was lost, a rainbow appeared!

Joyce: (Clapping) Yay for happy endings, Spookie!

Montage 26: "Joyce's Scary Movie Night"

Joyce organizes a movie night with spooky films featuring heartwarming moments.

Joyce: (Snacking on popcorn) Spooky and sweet, just like our friendship!

Spookie: (Nodding) Exactly, Joyce!

Montage 27: "Spookie's Midnight Ghostly Ball"

Spookie hosts a grand ball with eerie music and joyful dances.

Joyce: (Twirling) This dance is both spooky and splendid, Spookie!

Spookie: (Dancing) That's the spirit, Joyce!

Montage 28: "Happy and Spooky Treasure Hunt"

Joyce and Spookie go on a treasure hunt through the spooky mansion, finding surprises along the way.

Joyce: (Excitedly) Look, Spookie, I found a spooky-cute treasure chest!

Spookie: (Proudly) You're a great treasure hunter, Joyce!

Montage 29: "Joyce and Spookie's Nighttime Stargazing"

Joyce and Spookie lie under the starry sky, sharing stories and marveling at the celestial beauty.

Joyce: (Pointing) That star looks just like a smiling ghost!

Spookie: (Smiling) It does, Joyce, a happy ghost!

Montage 30: "The Joyful Scare Farewell"

Joyce and Spookie bid farewell to their spooky world, leaving behind memories of joy and spookiness.

Joyce: (Hugging Spookie) Thanks for the spook-tacular time, Spookie!

Spookie: (Hugging back) It was a hauntingly happy adventure, Joyce!

These montages capture the unique and delightful blend of joy and spookiness in Joyce and Spookie's interactions within Spookie's eerie world, where both their personalities create a one-of-a-kind and memorable experience for all.

[temnurus]

Drarry Case Fic Recs

So there are eleven of these instead of the usual ten I typically try to keep my lists at, but I just couldn't pick one to cut! The first is the only non-smutty one. It's absolutely brilliant, so I didn't even miss the hanky panky. Okay, fine. Only a little bit. They're in no particular order, as each one is gorgeous, and you should read each and every one of them. Well? Go on, read them!

Each Breath My First by laughingd0g (T, 46k)

Thoughts: The characterizations were dazzling, particularly Draco's. I loved his quirks, and the descriptions of his cottage were delightful. I found the curse damage Harry suffered from as fascinating as it was heartbreaking. The case was engaging, and the suspense was super intense! I loved the slow burn. This is an amazing read by an overall dazzling writer.

Chasing Shadows by manixzen (E, 93k)

Thoughts: This is an incredible case fic. The murder mystery evolves into something so rich in detail that it blows my mind how the author kept up with all the threads of the plot. Harry being closeted hurt me down to my soul. Just.. the way he gave in to the expectations of others and never lived for himself. Twenty years. That's a long time to be lonely and consumed with a job that makes you miserable. I felt for him, and the fact that the author could write it in such a way to bring out such vivid emotions is incredible. The ones that make people feel deeply are the best kinds of stories, and that's what they've created here. Read this. Both the fic and the fan art that comes with it are absolutely gorgeous.

Life Lessons by bixgirl1 (E, 68k)

Thoughts: This was brilliant. The background plot of a shadowy figure menacing the Slytherins was engaging, and the side characters were brilliant, my favorite being Greg Goyle. Harry and Draco's chemistry was off the charts, and the snark and banter are everything I've come to expect from a bixgirl1 fic. The rimming scene was the hottest one I've ever read, so there's a ton to look forward to in this!

And an Owl Named Romeo by Rickey (E, 26k)

Thoughts: I love a good epistolary fic, and this was absolutely delightful. I loved the way Harry kept coming back to see Draco and kept writing to him even when he was rebuffed by a very prickly and standoffish Draco. Their characterizations were fantastic. Romeo was an absolute riot, and I loved him to pieces! The magical theory involved in owls and mail-carrying was really neat, and I thought it was cool how it fit into the case. And speaking of the case, the drama really came through as well! This made me feel all the feelings, and it was so wonderfully written and enjoyable.

Serpentes by xErised (E, 29k)

Thoughts: This was so fucking good. It was hilarious and intriguing and had me hooked from the very beginning. I read it in one sitting, and I was bereft when I got to the end because that meant there wasn't any more of it! Bacon was my absolute favorite thing about the fic. He stole the show and my heart. The case itself was heartbreaking with what they were doing to those poor snakes, but it sure did keep the tension high. I won’t say anymore except to assure you that the dancing and the smut were both hot as fuck and definitely worth checking out. Read this!

All the Earnest Young Men by Tepre (E, 29k)

Thoughts: Draco was perfect in this, maddening and insufferable and utterly insecure underneath. He drove everyone around him mad, including Harry, who avoided him like the plague. I enjoyed the time skips. It was an interesting and engaging way to experience the story. I loved Draco's clumsy attempts to make friends with Harry, and them at the museum was a riot. I laughed so much at this fic, but it was also full of such poignant moments between Harry and Draco. The intimacy of the sex scenes was breathtaking. Another favorite, for sure.

Kaleidoscope by Saras_Girl (E, 104k)

Thoughts: This was so insanely good, and I can't adequately express how much I enjoyed it. The pining was so potent in this that I felt the ache in my chest throughout the entire fic, and Harry's characterization was so damn good that it alone made me want to cry. Him rambling around in Grimmauld Place tending to his plants and sharing his home with Calliope and Patrick made for such a cozy and domestic scene even while Harry practically oozed longing for Draco from his very pores. I won’t spoil the plot, but this is my favorite Saras_Girl fic since Turn. It is a must-read, no doubt about it.

The Light More Beautiful by firethesound (E, 81k)

Thoughts: Draco was so clever and creative in this, and the way he felt about Harry took my breath away. He appreciated the exact things about him that make me love Harry so much as a character, and it was probably my favorite thing about this fic. The pining was achingly lovely, the banter and teasing were fun, and the smut was scorching hot. I loved everyone's rivalry with the famous Agnes from the Floo address department, and both Harry's and Draco's battle for approval of their department acronyms had me dying of laughter. This fic was fantastic and definitely worth a read.

A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)

Thoughts: This fic is a gem. It is utterly original in both idea and execution. I love the fact that the author went with older versions of Harry and Draco than I usually see in fics, and I adore how they nurture each other throughout their ordeal on the run. Absolutely fantastic.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by aibidil (E, 80k)

Thoughts: This approached the issue of consent so well, and I love it when fics make me think as much as they entertain me. This did both in spades. Hermione was a fucking rock star in this. I almost enjoyed her more than Harry and Draco, tbh. But I still loved them, of course! The switching perspectives made for a rich and intense bit of story-telling. It just really enhanced the whole thing. The arguments both for and against the use of love and lust potions, the fight to make them illegal, and then everyone dealing with the ongoing harassment Hermione and her loved ones were experiencing all made for a compelling read.

Harry and Draco's rocky relationship taking place throughout all this was so fun to see develop. Their banter was amazing. I loved the tension, and it only made the release all the sweeter when it finally happened. The many moments of levity throughout the fic were what surprised me the most. I didn't expect to laugh as much as I did for a fic that covered such heavy topics, but it was rife with humor.

A Lick and a Promise by tackytiger (E, 55k)

Thoughts: The characterizations were phenomenal, and the outpouring of emotion inherent to the author's style was so present throughout this. I found the case fascinating, and the magical theory involved behind both the stolen magic, how vampirism worked here, and the sentience of Hogwarts had me hooked and so utterly impressed by the author's creativity. Harry and Draco's banter was excellent, and their passion made my toes curl delightfully. Highly recommend.

[toomanybandstocare]

{What the Older ST Characters Wear as Halloween Costumes}

Program: Just some spooky thoughts about how the older Stranger Things characters would dress up for a Halloween party.

Counselors: Argyle, Robin, Jonathan, Billy, Steve, Eddie, & Nancy

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, Request

Warnings: Couple of swears, Mentions of drinking and drinking games, Mentions of weed and cigarettes, Not proofed

Counselor Notes: Thank you @staygoldwriting for the inspo! I was so tired from work today and didn't really know what to write. So incredibly sweet of you send a request <3 I had a lot of fun with this, but some of them were a challenge! I'm really happy with the lil scenarios and costume picks I cam up with :)

Argyle -> Inigo Montoya

Argyle is obsessed with is hair in the most non-vain way possible. He looks at himself and is filled with love by what he sees in the mirror. I just genuinely believe that he loves himself for who he is and cannot wait to see how he grows and changes with time. That leads me to think that he would want to show off his favorite features, and I think one of them would be his hair. Argyle is wooing everyone at the party. "I'm sorry, my lovely lady. I didn't mean to bump into you. Could I get you a drink to win back your favor?" "My good sir! I must say that you look incredibly dashing tonight. I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal you away later." "Have my eyes deceived me, or has the fairest being of all the land graced me with with their presence." Everyone is swooning for this Cali man.

Robin Buckley -> Lydia Deetz

I would absolutely do anything to see Robin with a smudegy eye shadow look and choker necklace. Best part of this, she can just give everyone shit and tease them like usual while saying, "I'm in character. Deal with it or drop dead". She borrows Jonathan's camera for the night and takes snapshots of all the haunting events of the night. And on a free weekend when the film develops and she saves up to get copies of the photos and materials, she makes a mini scrapbooks for the friend group.

Jonathan Byers -> Johnny

You can bet your ass that when he enters the party, Johnathan yells out, "Here's Johnny," with a fake hatchet. And the roaring reaction is so worth all nerves he dealt with when mustering the confidence on the way over. I don't think large parties are his scene, so he wanted to feel comfortable and needed to work with what he's got. Jonathan is a sucker for party games, so he is easily convinced to join whichever vice of the night. Truth or Dare? He loves to pull a prank on some unsuspecting party goer. King's Cup? You do not want to paired up as his "date", because he cannot for the life of him remember all of the rules and you will have to drink almost every time. Pong? Too good, and his favorite trick shot is to bounce it off the wall.

Billy Hargrove -> Johnny Castle

This man just wanted to look hot, and he did it. Brought his leather jacket and mega watt smile, and it was immediate game over for any other guys trying to win the attention. Everyone is asking if he can do the lift, so he spends the most of his night in the back yard indulging all the pretty people who ask. The rest of the night? Either dancing to the Top 100 on the radio for the Spooktacular special, or he's just hanging out with his friends. Billy's trying to slowly allow himself to feel comfortable past his looks around the group, so he figured that a party would be a good middle ground. He could retreat to his flirty facade if he got too overwhelmed, and if he felt himself slipping, Billy could just hang out with one of the group.

Steve Harrington -> Han Solo

This man is a menace. He knows he's good looking. He knows that everyone has eyes for him and Harrison Ford. He knows what he's doing. But in all seriousness, Steve just wants to goof around with his friends. Definitely holds a pretty person "hostage" until their bounty is paid (either in head scratches, alcohol, weed, or cigs- he's not picky). When one of his friends comes into sight, Steve draws his water gun, that he spray painted black to try to make it look similar, and shoots them.

Eddie Munson -> Lost Boy

I think as much as Eddie loves to dress up, he wants to still be himself. So, he'll sort of insert himself into a franchise universe and dress up as if he was a character in it. Eddie loves the Lost Boys since he can see his some of his usual style peek through, but it also gives him a chance to explore a bit more of the glam rock aesthetic as well. And you know he has packets of fake blood to "bite" people and then leave a trail of blood on them. It's his personal goal to get each of his friends by the end of the night. Bonus points if they never realize he's targeting them.

Nancy Wheeler -> Heathers

So I've never seen the movie or musical, but when I think of Nancy- I think of her iconic prep aesthetic. I do think that she would want to stay somewhat in her comfort zone (I personally think she uses her clothes as a mental armor for the day just as Eddie), but she feels encouraged and supported to relax with her friends. She feels safe to experiment. I think she has a ball with her outfit, because she feels comfort and attractive at the same time. She carries around a matching croquette mallet and takes photos with everyone. She also carries a little purse where she manages to convince every party guest to give her something as party cover even though it's not her party, she just like collecting mementos. So she ends up with a bag of bottle caps, scrunchies, matchbooks, little knickknacks.

[husbandohunter]

Dottore with short drabble “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”

Something angsty pls? Thank you!

Tainted Glass [Dottore x Reader/Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: Can you escape the prison you made?

(A twisted Cinderella story. The girl was covered in cinders because she was fatally addicted to drowning in flames.)

Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, violence, death

(A/n): To be honest anon, I didn’t know what the word ‘drabble’ means until I googled it. I uh...hope you don’t mind the length :> 

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

You fell back against the cold hard floor with your arms bent and head turned sideways. The stinging pain spreads across your cheek. It burns. But your mind was still trying to register what had just came into fruition. 

Why?

The thought was so foreign somehow as if you could hardly believe he was doing this. But then the scene plays in your head again. You froze, your gaze enlarged and clueless while staring at the pale ground as it slowly begins to darken in the seeping movement of his menacing, haunting shadow. 

"Insolent woman, you wretch!" He spat in a disgusted tone, "How dare you speak to me in such demanding manner? Have I already told you, only talk when you have something important to say?"

You didn't respond, rather you merely let the strands fall in front of your vision as you gingerly pressed your hand against the place where he hit you. 

I…don't quite understand…

Dottore glowers down at your hunched form. He was never a man known for the virtue of patience. This man, the one who calls him your husband, you learned a long time ago to not meet his eyes as they would signal a hint of dominance amidst his authority, especially during moments like these. You came to feel his eyes instead, they were usually intense and full of wrath, sometimes crazed and curious while looking at his finest creations. He always loved experimenting in his labratory. After all, it was the only thing that could truly make the madman smile.

What is it that I'm missing? Where did I go wrong?

And you would do anything to obtain at least a fraction of the love he had left in his heart. 

He marches onward with heavy footsteps, paying no mind to your well-being, "Tch get out of my sight. I don't have the time to entertain with anymore these theatrics."

At the sound of him leaving you darted your attention towards him, "Wait, come back. Come back, " you plea softly, "Hector…" But he ignores your call. The back of your fiance disappears behind the door and slams it with a resounding thud. He was gone. You couldn't save him.

"No," As a result, you burried your face into your palms and cried.

“I'm sorry.”

…

What is love?

Being raised in one of the most prestigious bloodlines of Fontaine, a life filled with riches since your parents were well known scholars throughout Teyvat, they provided you and your family with everything you needed. From exquisite dishes to priceless jewelry, yet even among those riches you never did find an answer to your question. They were tangibles and short-lasting, eventually leaving you with nothing until the glass of your heart was filled empty. They seemed to have cared more about their fortune along with the brightest child of their family line, your brother, a male heir, someone who fulfilled their expectations where you couldn't do so. And because he was able to give them what they wanted, he was loved.

I see, love is conditional.

Realizing that you possessed no talent to achieve what your brother had accomplished, you came to accept that you were undeserving of their love. Love was for the smart. Love was for the gifted.  Love was for everything you are not. There was no place for your kind and thus you locked yourself up in your bedroom chambers along with your fragile heart where no one would try to find you, picking up the books upon the shelves and getting lost in their fantasies. 

They told you many beautiful things about the world and many reasons why it was so tragic. Because they weren't real. The story begins with a princess who was a kind-hearted soul, deprived from the care of her evil stepmother and dreams of marrying a prince from a land far far away. They often end on a happily ever after with the princes finding her one true love. You've never seen anything like it. Where two people, despite the struggles they went through, loved each other unconditionally.

Unconditional love only exists in dreams.

Or so you thought to believe.

One day a man marched right at the doorsteps of your mansion. He was a student coming all the way from Sumeru Academia and had high hopes of building a business partnership with your father. The man was declined of course, you watched from the garden bushes as he was sent off back into his carriage. He stops abruptly and turns his head ajar to catch your figure, his inquisitive eyes were both striking and sharp. Like thorns of a rose that was ready to prick anyone who dares to come close. Even so, they made a very lasting impression.

Red eyes.

It was the first time that someone had looked your way.

Couple of months later, the government had arranged a grand ball where all nobles would gather and commit to building their social circle. Useless events. There was no reason for you to engage. While your parents were occupied with the latest gossips and your brother surrounded by fathers who were eager to marry their daughters to him, you snuck outside to the balcony and hid away from the crowd. Quiet at last. And as things should be. The moon was your only friend because she was just like you; half empty. Maybe that was why you still had a glimmer of hope for the other half to be filled. 

Part white, you inquired, pristine and untainted. From far away it looked similar to snow. 

"My, how pleasantly surprising."

While the other part was stained with black cinders.

You glanced over your shoulder to see a man leaning against the pillar. His mint coloured bangs were slicked back in a trendy fashion, complimenting the white suit he adorned himself with. The golden chains hanging around his ebony boots dangled and clanged with each step he took forward until the light finally reveals his face.

"You seem familiar," you say while squinting your eyes, "Are you the person my father rejected back in February?"

He quirks one brow and you were afraid if you had offended him. But before you could utter an apology, the man splits his lips into a toothy grin and bursts out into a maniac-like laughter. He was completely insane, you thought to yourself. Though he paid no mind to your discomfort and continued to dwell in his amusement, "Hahaha straightforward, I like it! So what if I am? Is it a requirement to be a noble for me to simply have a chat?"

"And if I may ask why?"

"Hmmm, why?" The man reaches for the balcony and presses his back there. He threw his head backward before drilling his ruby gaze into yours, "I too am not fond of annoying crowds. Those snobbish fools thinking they're above everyone else just because they have a couple of mora when that is all they are worth. It's almost too hilarious for my own good."

You could tell there was disdain in his tone. Mainly towards your father who were one of the many unkind nobles of Fontaine and was only liked because of his success. Gripping your hands upon the stone railings, you looked down at the distant trees below while the wind rustled them apart, "I can't deny that," you say dissapointedly, "It's common for nobles not to associate with lower classes as it could potentially ruin their image. Though I may not have been there but I'm sure you had much to offer in terms of your brilliance, erm, Mister…?"

"Hector," Hector placed a palm on his chest with a polite bow following suit, "Hector Dufour-Lapointé. It is a pleasure to make you an acquaintance Lady (Y/n)."

"You know my name?"

"How could I not?" Hector smirks lazily as he danced around you, "I saw you before hiding behind the rose bushes back in your estate. Quite curious why you didn't attempt to say hello."

He even remembers that too. You fiddled with the fabric of your dress, "My apologies. I'm not use to socializing so much."

“Is that so? I think you're not giving yourself enough credit," he complimented while shrugging, "This is much more entertaining than hanging in that insufferably crowded room, it was an unexpected occurence to meet you here of all places. However, I must say time can fly if I'm able to enjoy myself."

You shifted away from his stare, "You flatter me. We've only been talking for a few minutes."

"I have yet to realize it then" Hector's cheerfulness remains at stance despite your gloomy response. He leans forward like a curious child and tosses you a question, "Then allow me to ask, what brings you out here Lady (Y/n)? I don't see any reason when your family are such highly respected people of Fontaine." 

"I'm not like them!" You retort instantly, causing the man to glance at you with skepticism, "I mean, I have nothing to do with them and they have nothing to do with me. That's just how it is. They already have Clement after all…"

Why am I telling him this?

"Ah your brother I assume. Yes so I've heard much about his genius mind. There were a few instances where he and I collaborated at Sumeru Academia," Hector speaks as if regarding to his unpleasant memories, "Although he never said anything about having a sister."

"We're not that close. And I'm not very fond of him," you confessed bluntly.

"Neither am I," Hector agreed with a scowl, "He claims his position using the knowledge derived from history books but never tries to think beyond the norm. That ignorant mindset of his will surely be his downfall one day."

"Ignorance can lead to anyone's downfall. If they turn a blind eye to the truth, so much can be taken from them," you paused shortly from rambling too much, "That's what I read in books at least."

"As expected of your lineage," he sighs whimsically, "Such avid readers."

"Well my family prefers documents and research. I've gone through them too but I will always love reading fiction."

"Ha! Seems you really are trying to be different from the rest of your family."

Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, you had already forgotten about the cold breeze despite your dress being less than ideal for the outdoors. The man, although he can be a little to blathering at times, was more than what seemed to be on the surface. At first you thought of him as someone here to take advantage of your relations to your father but he seemed so sincere when listening to your stories, so eager while expressing his thoughts and even made you laugh a couple of times. You didn't realize that the clock had already struck twelve as the guests were preparing to leave but you just weren't ready to do the same.

"Until next time (Y/n)," he takes your fingers and pressed a kiss on top of them, though you were more struck by how he addressed you without honorifics, "I look forward to speaking with you again."

A warm smile graces your lips as you cursty, "Likewise Hector. Thank you for listening to me. I know I must have taken a long time."

Hector sneered but you already learned that it was simply his way of expressing amusement, "Hardly. I was thoroughly entertained."

When your parents found out about your meeting with him, they made it clear that you would never see him again. Hector Dufour-Lapointé is what he calls himself but the real name behind this man was Hector Valliere who came from a village hidden in the west of Fontaine. Rumours said that he was chased out of his hometown by an angry mob, claiming him to be a madman conducting unethical experiments on humans. Shortly after his arrival in Sumeru, he abandoned his past identity and replaced it with a new one in order to enter the academy under legal supervision. Associating with a man of a suspicious reputation would only cause harm to your family's name. Though you could barely care much about their reputation. There was nothing for you to benefit from it.

Few weeks have passed and you evetually gave up on the thought of hearing from Hector. They were only fleeting moments, nothing more. Your routine would stay the same as you kept on plucking more books off the shelves, killing whatever time you had. However the activities you used to enjoy somehow lost it's flair and there would be a slight pain in your chest whenever you turn to a page with the princess as she is surrounded by her friends. What exactly changed? Your family still treated you the same. Did you suddenly grow bored from doing the same thing everyday? Why is it that you feel much more lonelier despite being alone for so long? It was hard to tell in a singular perspective. If only there was someone here to give you some insights on things you couldn't see…

A silver bird lands by your front window and you nearly fell out of your chair as it flapped their wings violently. A machine?! They dropped what seems to be an envelope within the thick bushes before taking off and buzzing into the evening sky. You switched off the lock and lifted the glass within a single movement, snatching the piece of paper so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. Hastily you opened it. Both curious and cautious of why would anyone send you mail in such a discreet approach.

Chère Mademoiselle (Y/n),

I can only imagine the shock of your expression once reading this letter. I'm only writing to you since I assume that your father had already told you those nasty rumours about my past. No matter. I trust that you have a good head on your shoulders to not prejudge people using such miniscule details. I wish to speak with you again. Unless you have other plans staying in that stuffy room of yours, meet me behind the clock tower at 11:00 p.m. Don't be late.

Bien à vous,

H.

"It really is him!" The happiness spreads all across your features as you clutched the letter to your chest. For some reason, your heart wouldn't stop racing. It was a simple yet thoughful action on his part but despite how short his greeting was, every word held the weight of a thousand sparks, "I…I can't stop smiling."

And without hesitation, you prepared to leave. No one noticed your absence.

-------

It was only halfway where you realized that Hector didn't give many details redgarding why he planned this sudden event. You caught sight of him standing under the roofs with his hands hidden behind his back. He had on his signature lopsided grin, brows uneven as he glanced at you casually.

"How very punctual, were you so eager that you couldn't wait?" He teases.

"I was surprised when your bird knocked upon my window," you inform, "Is it something urgent?"

"Not at all. I merely wanted to catch up with old times," Hector tilts forward to emphasize his suggestion, "Care to indulge me for a bit?"

You crossed your arms, "Then what is it that you're hiding behind your back?"

"Hmm?" He hums, "You mean this?"

"Ah!"

Roses. A bouquet of bright red flowers were presented to you, nicely wrapped in fabric. In the language of Fontaine, recieving them could mean multiple of things and you couldn't help but feel hesitant despite his thoughtful gesture, "Why are you giving me this?"

"Is it so wrong for me to be a gentleman? I thought it would be best to prepare you a gift after you put all that effort to come out in such a late hour," Hector mused to himself, "Especially when you had to make sure no prying eyes would catch us."

You let out a small laugh before accepting the bouquet, "I wouldn't go as far to say that."

"Oh?" Although it was hard to see, Hector managed to catch a glimpse of your flushed cheeks hidden behind the flowers. A darken smirk climbs onto his face at the inviting thought of what it could mean, "Tell me more."

The whole night you both spent walking around the empty plaza with only the stars as your guide. They paved a silver path reflected in the horizon above, free flowing like one of the many watercolour paintings hung in your chambers, uncertain where they may lead but you followed them regardless. If it weren't for Hector's inivtation you might have never known about the parts of your city due to the restricted lifestyle you lived. He listened to every one of them. The stories you had to tell when there was no one for you to talk to and the complaints about your brother whenever he wanted to snitch on your actions just to get the praise out of your father. You expressed your frustrations when speaking about your incompetences, joy after reading a good fairytale book written by your favourite author, there was so much to say that you were worried if Hector soon grew tired from them.

"Go on. I'm listening."

And your heart flutters again. Suddenly everything felt so light with each step you took, it was as if you walked across the stars in the sky rather than the heavy pavement of the ground you called your home. But even if happiness was a bliss, it tormented you. Because companionship made you realize how poor your were all along. That you had everything yet you had nothing, slowly withering away like the roses you held in your hand. Convinced that your existence was worth nothing more than nothing itself. Doomed to be dismissed and forgotten. Rotting away...Hector stays by your side as you cried softly into the night.

From a distance the bell rings and echoes just like the time before during Fontaine's grand ball. Hector shows you a secret route so that no one could find you.

"Will you write to me again?"

The request was so innocent, purely from genuine intentions and devoided of anything he had in mind. Hector would always laugh in these situations when things have gone unexpectedly yet pleasingly his way but held back knowing that it would be foolish to waste such a priceless opportunity. And so he gave you his smile, one full of secrets where you had mistakened it as a promise, "Of course my dear."

Every night you could no longer fall asleep since he had occupied your thoughts completely. Sometimes you'd dream of him and their tales would unfold similarly to the ones you have read. It gone to the point where the maids would have to wake you up during late afternoons due to the dramatic change in your sleep schedule. Though, you didn't care what they did to you. As long as no one found out about your secret rendezvous.

You never thought that there'd be a day where you would voluntarily give up reading your beloved fairytales. They were now replaced by a stash of his letters that have been accumulated over the past few months. You read them each day, pacing back and forth within the walls of your room, whispering his sentences as if he were the one saying them to you. He made you feel special. You were addicted to this feeling. Eventually you managed to memorize his words by heart. 

The pages of your diary were filled with notes. Like your very own  fairytale carved into reality. From the rose petal, now dried, to the hairpin he snatched from a distracted merchant and a single strand of his hair you found within your cloak after a warm embrace, all of these items, a remnant of the man you loved were taped up in these pages. Sometimes you could even feel his prescence because it was all you needed. It didn't matter if Clement threw insults about how worthless your existence was, your parents could lock you in this prison if they wanted to but they shall never take away Hector from you. Never. You swear it. He was your whole world and the prince who saved you from a life made of aching emptiness. You would do anything to keep him by your side. Anything to gain his affection.

Anything.

"I had a feeling that you were the culprit dear sister."

Your arms stutters as they clutched tightly on the scrolls you took off from the shelves. The light crept into the room like arms reaching out to clutch around your ankles, warning you for trespassing. You turned around dreadfully to see Clement pressing his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms folded and a wicked expression aimed at your pitiful state.

"Why…Why are you still awake?" You say in disbelief, "I thought everyone was asleep."

"Please. Not only are you shameless but hypocritical as well. You truly are a dissapointment to our family."

"Wait," taking a step forward, you stopped him before he makes his exit, "I'll put them back. Just don't tell father about this."

But like your parents, your brother was unkind. Clement doubles over and hugs his torso, cackling through his teeth, "Is that how it is?" He swipes his arm up and you see a parchment paper held between his fingers. 

"No!"

"Ma chérie (Y/n). I must say all this tenacious effort of sneaking in my letters to your window is becoming more and more tiresome. But of course, you are an exception. I want the scrolls you've mentioned the other day at my lair tomorrow evening. Make sure no one discovers this. I'm counting on you. Cordialement! Hector."

"No…" you whispered, feeling the weight of the world fall upon your shoulders as it shattered apart. Hector. If possible, you hoped that the pieces could just crush you right then and there. Your knees felt weak and a fright takes over but despite your turmoil, Clement didn't show a shred of sympathy.

"So this is why you've been acting odd lately. Pathetic," he flaps the paper tauntingly in his grasp, "I can't decide if I should be impressed or baffled by your actions. A secret romance with a criminal and the bloodline of Fontaine's most respected government associates? Even though you've hit rock bottom, you still decided to dig deeper."

"Clement you don't understand!"  Stumbling upon your footsteps, you desperately tried to convey your predicament even if it meant feeding his ego, "Hector is not the man you think. He was shunned by the people of his hometown, treating him as if he were nothing. They…They ignored him! All this time he needed someone to recognize his brilliance, someone to understand." Shakily, you brought your tensed arms to your chest and screamed a silent whisper, "Someone to listen but no one did. He must have felt so alone…"

Clement flinches when you suddenly clutched onto his biceps. When he looked into your eyes, a shiver ran down his spine.

"Hector is counting on me. I'm the only one who can save him. No one else. He needs me Clement, he needs me!" 

"Tch."

An ear-splitting scream of his hand against your face echoes across the room. It knocked you out of your stance and you bumped into the table, grunting while the scrolls to tumbled to the floor.

"Crazy woman, I'm embarassed to be related to you!"

While you were still trying to regain your balance, your brother had already ran off. It wouldn't be long before he alerted your parents, the clock ticking away like sand until the final hour leaves you with nothing but an empty glass. 

"No," despair swallows the strength away from your legs and you crawled towards where he used to stand, "Don't take him away from me…I need him…"

I can't live without him.

I can't live without him.

I can't live without him.

Tears begin to form by the corners of your eyes as you clenched your teeth. This was no time to cry. Balling your fists, you sprinted out of the room, pushing whatever stood in your way as if you were running for your life. 

And if you considered everything else, it wasn't that far from the truth.

-------

"Hector! Hector are you there?" After arriving upon his house, you began knocking on his door aggressively. The lock clicks and you were greeted by an evidently annoyed man gnawing his teeth together.

"Tsk. There better be a good reason-"

"They're coming for us! We have to go. Now. Before it's too late. My father is probably already waking and making arrangements for you to-"

"Enough, I can't even catch what you're saying," He pinches the bridge of his nose while you were still stuck in a frenzy state. He takes a step back and opens the door wider, gesturing for you to come inside, "Get in already. I have a feeling that this will be a long night."

Hector observes intently at the words you tell him.

Not out of concern but akin to the way he watches the insects react when he exposes them to a different environment.

He was a scientist after all. A madman in which you deliberately fell in love with, so much to the point that he was able to feel pity for once. How you trusted him wholeheartedly with all of your vulnerabilities, emotions and secrets like handing him your parts just so he could put you back together again. Tinkering was always one of his favourite hobbies and he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride at the thought of you being completely wrapped around his finger. 

Perhaps that was the reason why he loved you. Because he didn't love you. He loved you in parts.

"It was only a matter of time," Hector sighs. He sneaks his grasp into yours, knowing how much it affects you and puts on an invisible mask of deciet, "I already knew this day would happen long before anyone could have predicted it."

"You did?" With worried eyes you gazed at him, "What shall we do then?"

Knowing he hit the target, his lips begin to curl up towards his ears, showing his sharp white teeth that shone against the dim-litted room. Hector asks, "Do you love me?"

A silly question. You didn't hesitate to answer, "Of course I do. I've said it many times."

"Prove it to me," Forcing his forehead against yours, Hector commands in a dangerously low tone, "Kill your brother and only then you can truly be mine."

Your brain sutters, trying to absorb what he had just said. Kill? As in to take a life? It sounded wrong. But...was it wrong if the life belonged to someone who ruined yours?

Dumbfoundedly, you glanced into the bloody orbs of your lover, his black pupils thinning into knives while burning in the hellfire of his true colours. Hector runs a hand from the scalp of your hair, down to your cheek before gingerly sliding his fingers at your jawline. He pulled you close and whispered into your ear.

"Are you scared?"

Ah, this wasn't about your feelings. This was about him and your future and there could be no future you without him by your side.

You let your eyelids drop and leaned into his touch, "I could never be scared of you Hector. Whether it is within my power or not, I will make sure no one gets in our way. I swear it."

"Good," he continues to have you feed on his affection, "I knew I could count on you."

-----------

The news of your brother's death filled every headline Fontain had to offer. He was driven off a cliff while making a trip towards Sumeru. No one survived. The remains were so crushed to the point that authorities had trouble identifying their bodies. The only explanation they could come up with by observing the leftover tracks was that the horse must have gone out of control and ended up dragging the carriage along with it.

Ha. Serves him right.

Food poisoning. The vial Hector made was very effective. You made sure to bury it away from your mansion.

With no other choice, you became your family's next heir. Hector notifies you that he would be away for several months to solidify a unique connection with a man hailing from Snezhnaya. You didn't think he would arrive at your doorsteps with so much authority. Fatui soldiers followed from behind as the staff paved a way for them to enter. Your father was clearly displeased by his outrageous approach but he knew he was in no place to deny.

"Upon the agreement between Fontaine and Snezhnaya, Lady (Y/n) will become Harbinger Il Dottore's wife," the Duke announces, "This news will be publicly announced at the end of October."

Dottore? Is that what he calls himself?

As if claiming his victory, Dottore shoots your father a devilish smile. You could feel the dining table shake when he kept pressing his fist against the smooth surface, begrudingly congratulating you both for the new engagement. Your mother bursted into tears.

Was it worth it?

You watched both of your parents mourn silently in their own manner. Perfectly knowing that you were the main cause. But you weren't able to feel any sadness because in the end, you now had everything you've ever wanted. 

The inheritance.

Their attention.

But most of all, him.

And when you were convinced that this was your happily ever after, that fairytales were not just beautiful lies for the sake of comfort, you didn't realize  you were already living a life made of beautiful lies conjured by your own mind for the sake of your own comfort. 

"You're nothing without me."

Dried and calloused hands squeezed around your throat as you flailed your legs against the soft fabric of the carpet floor. He encases you in a straddling position, enjoying the sight of your tortured and clenched face. Hector…no, Dottore hated it when you disobeyed him. He despised it when his creations don't work the way he wanted them to and he had no use for things that are broken.

"G-hka--k..-"

"How many times do I have to remind you to not use my birthname. Do those ears of you even function properly? Or must I fix them myself?"

You gasped for air when he relaxed his grip. Vision a blur, you coughed a few times before he pulls your arm so that you lay flushed against his chest.

"Don't forget who saved you dear (Y/n). Because of me you were able to escape that miserable life you've despised for years. I expect the utmost gratitude on your part at all times, it is only fair that I punish you for not meeting my requirements, don't you agree?" Dottore lifts his hand up to pinch your cheeks, pulling your head to stare at your eyes, "After all, there is no one else in this world who can put up with you…but me."

His words were poison in which you drank like a woman starved. It made you feel numb to the pain the more you drowned in their alluring scent, the taste was sweet, a remedy for the bitterness of reality where the man of your dreams was nothing but a cruel monster. You came to believe that the reason why he treated you so harshly was because he was scared of losing you. You were caught in the trap of what seemed to be love and devotion when truly, you were just a toy to be used at a means end. He breaks you and he puts you back together, over and over again, filling in between the cracks formed in your glass heart with the phrases you loved to hear. Just like how he filled the other holes of your life where no one else did. You called it kindness. He saw it as entertainment.

Most people pay attention to the flower's beauty but they never acknowledge the thorns hidden beneath it's blossom.  That is why they bleed. They get hurt. Though, you didn't mind shedding blood if it was for his sake.

Because you would do anything for him.

You would do anything to bring back the memories of Hector Dufour-Lapointé and save him from the Harbinger that ruined his life. Your life. It wasn't his fault. You knew you could change him to what he was before because you were in love with him, that he might still in there. Somewhere.

Right?

…

Please come back.

Time continues to flow like the tears of your dying heart despite yearning for it to turn at the past. Dottore already left the room a long time ago but you didn't. Raising your head away from your hands, you peered at the door in front of you, begging desperately through a chanting record of despondence. 

Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.

Images, they slipped through your fingers, slowly becoming more distant until your mind began to see them as illusions. Dreams. Things that were not real. Telling you that your life was a lie. 

"Come back to me…Hector."

Because the man you loved was withering in your memories and you couldn't do anything to save him.

A dry croak robbed you of your breath as you turned to look in the mirror.

Worthless. You were always worthless, it was what your parents told you since birth. It was what you became when he wasn't at your side because without him, your existence was worthless. You lied for him, you stole for him you, took a life for him. You destroyed yourself for him to point that it was hard to believe you were even looking at yourself.

Worthless. It's who I am.

And despite it all, you couldn't obtain his love.

(Crack).

Worthless things don’t deserved to be loved.

(Crack. Crack).

But what if it’s because I’m worthless, that he won’t love me back?

(Crack).

Your eyes jolted open, causing you to gasp sharply. When the sweet lies dispersed in your head and cleansed you of deceit, everything started to make sene. You came to realize why your wish was impossible all along.

Dottore...no, Hector, the reason wasn't because he didn't return your feelings. Neither was it due to the fact that he hurt you through his actions. Nor when he made you cry or scream for help before feeding you with more lies, thinking he would never hurt you again. It was none of those things.

It was because the man you loved this whole time was someone who could love no one but himself.

"Ha...haha," sucking in your breath, a sinister laugh escapes your mouth, "Hahahahahahaha.....!"

Everything was worthless.

You grabbed a nearby hairbrush and threw it at the mirror, watching yourself shatter into a million pieces.

There was only one thing left to do. 

------

"Ugh, where is it?!"

It was late into the night where every staff had gone to sleep. The Harbinger fumbles with his keys while standing at the door of his basement as he was too busy proceeding with his research rather than considering the thought of rest. Usually he acted upon them on his own will, performing various experiments for enjoyment. However, ever since the Snezhnayan court had requested him to look into the ancient arts of alchemy, Dottore was forced to carry it out before the deadline approached. Otherwise his position as Harbinger would be revoked.

"What a bunch of self-centered blockheads. Can't they understand that it take quality time to get quality results?"

Most of his important documents were stored on the otherside. Half of it came from his father-in-law's library. He had you to thank for that.

"Ah finally," he mutters, though still dissatisfied, "I should have a word with my butler for misplacing them."

Dottore shoves the key into the lock but instead of twisting the knob he noticed something strange. It was old and had yet to be fixed but somehow he didn't have any trouble adjusting his wrist. Then he saw there were a set of freshly made fingerprints upon the smooth metallic surface. However, the only person awake at this time would be him-

An intruder!

Dottore drops everything to the ground and yanks the door open. He skittered down the stone stairs while cursing under his breath. Using the delusion gifted by the Tsaritsa, the Harbinger activated his lazer-like pillars as he took advantage of their glow to light up the unlit room.

"What in the abyss...?!"

Except it wasn't dark.

"All of these scrolls, I recognize them," without sparing a single glance, you spoke nostalgically towards the bookshelves, "It brings me so much memories..."

Dottore clenches his teeth together as his eyes shone an angry red, you were holding a torch dangerously close to his hard-earned collection, "What do you think you're doing?!" He fumed, "Put that out, AT ONCE! Don't make me repeat myself!

"They're precious to you aren't they?" You finally shifted to face him, "More than me."

"What has gotten into you?" He was about to hurl at you until he saw your torch lowering, causing him to retreat. You were strangely noncholant and he couldn't help the feeling of disturbance. Accepting that he didn't have the upperhand, Dottore decided to use a different approach, "(Y/n)."

The sound of your name falls from his lips. You faltered.

"I'm sorry for what I have done. I know I was dishonourable to you, as your husband and lover, and that you didn't deserve to see me so aggressive. You have every right to express your anger, my dear. I was in the wrong."

It was only a mask. You knew it well. But seeing him with softened eyes and a tone so comforting, made you desperately wanting to run into his arms so he could wipe away your sorrows just like once upon a time. To live happily ever after.

Hector.

Dottore runs his fingers through his hairstrands in frustration and sighs, "However the Tsarista needed me to do something very important and I can't seem to fulfill her request no matter how hard I try. It angers me. If I don't finish this, there would be no place for us to stay."

"Hector..." you sniffled quietly. He looks so much like him right now.

"Can't you see I'm doing this for you?" He consoles, yet his weapons still remain, "I only intended to make you happy and there's nothing I won't do to achieve that. How about I show-"

"Enough."

Dottore froze upon your sudden command. He didn't sense a hint of subjugation and it seemed that you had perfect control of your emotions. How very inquisitive. Did you grow immune to the style of his voice? In such a short period of time? The facade he had on was now replaced with a growling animal-like expression. You looked at him dissapointedly. His Harbinger self returned. Hector was no more.

"Ha, you're the same as always. Even before the time you became a Harbinger. The same man that I fell in love with but it is me who will never be the same again," For a moment you averted your gaze as if trying hard to swallow your own words, "Remember when we first met at the balcony? That I told you my favourite books to read are fiction? I knew they weren't real but deep down, I wanted to believe in them anyways. And you know what? They did come true, to some degree..."

As the memories come flashing back, he defenselessly watches your expression contort from sadness to a calm contemplation and finally, enraged disgust, "But you only ever brought me pain and I'm sick of it!"

Swaying the torch to the side, Dottore flinches forward but he didn't dare to come close when your current state was unpredictable to him, "I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME," you wail, I just wanted to be loved, bringing a clawed hand against your forehead and trembling upon contact, "It's all that I ask for..."

Dottore narrowed his brows. Perhaps he may have gotten too far.

"But I know it's impossible. The world is a cruel place and there's no point in trying anymore. That is why I'm going to set us free."

"...What do you mean?"

You shut your eyes closed and tossed the flaming torch to the ground. A horrified expression takes over his features. It didn't take long for the fire to begin spreading amongst the room.

"NO!" Dottore yelled powerfully, he frantically darts his gaze at all directions as they continued to flicker and blend into his precious documents. You stood still and watched him grab the ones that were intact, savouring the most he could but they slip out of his arms every time he moved. Dottore glances behind him to see a rising cage of hellfire. Then he turns to you.

" 'Til death do us part!" you laughed maniacally.

The madman looked back with angry dismay, "You're out of your mind!"

Abandoning whatever he held in his hand, Dottore spins around towards the staircase. He covers his face with his sleeve and did whatever he could to prevent the fire from touching him. However, he accidentally stumbled on his footsteps and something fell off the heights, knocking him in the face. He grunts painfully.

"That will leave a scar," you smile while he clutches at his injury, "I can break you too.”

Just like how you broke me.

Knowing that you've managed to leave a mark of your existence on him in someway, you peacefully watched your lover wobble between the hell you created. But the hell you knew was not made of scorching heat and thundering flames. Hell was empty. Hell was a void. This feeling was far too gentle to be considered hell. If he can't return your love, then at least let these caging arms bask you in the warmth you’ve always desired.

Lifting your head, you looked towards the ceiling and closed your eyes.

Ah, this cannot be death.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's A Love Story, Baby

Summary: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X GN Reader (this is my first time writing GN, so if anything seems to be gendered, PLEASE tell me)

Content Warning: Brief innuendo (like barely PG-13) but it's there if you think about it. Kissing...

I’m so so dumb. I forgot about the shower scene when I was writing the content warnings. I wrote 2 versions. So ugh. There’s a shower scene but it’s intimate and romantic rather than sexual.

Author’s Note: I don’t particularly like writing from a second person point of view, but please let me know what you think. I’m still learning & appreciate feedback.

Also..... this is my fic for @willowrose99 anniversary! so congrats!!

Word Count: 2.6

It's a Love Story, Baby

It was in the quiet moments in the early morning that always remind you of how much you love Spencer Reid. The morning light seemed to make him look even more beautiful than anyone could possibly be. You always marvel at how young he looks while he sleeps. His face isn’t contorted into a perplexed frown and his mind is at ease. You love every iteration of Spencer, but sleeping Spencer has to be your favorite.

It’s impossible, you know that, but still. You’ll tell yourself all these lies and will yourself to believe that it’s a Saturday. Any excuse to stay tangled in between the sheets with your chest pressed up to Spencer’s back and your arms hugging around his waist.

Reality, however, seems to have it out for the pair of you. The blaring alarm wakes you from your clandestine fairytale. It’s a signal that calls you and Spencer back to Earth. Even though it happens every morning, the crash from Paradise stings.

Spencer, his brown hair tousled and messy, groans as he puts his pillow over his head. You twist your body to turn off the alarm. For whatever reason, Spencer insisted that you use an old fashioned alarm clock; the kind that’s jarring and ridiculously loud.

“Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, his voice groggy and low. If you weren’t pressed for time, you’re sure that considering the way your name sounds from Spencer’s lips, you’d be spending more time in bed and less time sleeping.

“Spencer,” You tease back, dragging your hands under his pajama top. Spencer Reid has a lot of quirks, like the alarm clock, but the one you find most endearing is his affinity for matching pajama sets.

“Just stay a little longer, please. I can’t stand when you leave,” Spencer says, turning his head to look at you. You lay there in his bed, tempted to give into him. Tempted to stay in this little paradise that you carved out for yourselves.

“You know I’d love that more than anything,” You say, trying not to get swept up in the starry way Spencer gazes up at you, “but you promised me a picnic, Romeo and I want a picnic with my favorite person,”

“You brush your fingers across his face, committing him to memory for the days to come. Those sleepless nights where the only thing you want is to be in Spencer’s arms. Those dark moments on a case where you need to touch him, to touch something that’s so pure and good and kind. Those silent stares can only keep you at bay for so long.

He simply closes his eyes and swallows his words. Silently, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s a light peck, but those are the ones that seem to be just dripping with love. But instead of his kiss leaving needing more, all you feel is guilt. Spencer doesn’t deserve to be loved in the shadows, but there you were kissing him with the guise of secrecy.

But maybe today was going to change that. Maybe you’ll be able to kiss Spencer in public and hold his hand. Or even stroke his hair as his head rests in your lap while he reads to you. All those normal couple activities were always just a grasp and a leap away. But the menacing foe of the FBI relationship rules proved to be a looming enemy.

“I’m going to shower,” Spencer says. His voice trails off, like he expects you to finish his sentence for him.

“Care if I join?” You ask, hoping that it’s what he wants too. His devilish grin is enough for you to stretch your back and scamper on into the bathroom with Spencer at your heels.

He likes undressing you more than any other man you’ve been with. He takes his time unbuttoning your pajama top. His fingers, though they look like they’d be rough and coarse, are soft and slip down to your hip bone, just grazing the skin. Spencer lets his fingers press a little harder, urging you to spin around so your back is up against his chest. He places wet kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulders; he’s more adventurous this morning. Spencer’s kisses are usually sweet, almost chaste. Usually the opposite of how his hands rank over your body or how his eyes look at you when you smile and writhe from his touch.

“I love when you steal my clothes, Y/N,” He says, his voice still a little husky and you don’t think it’s from the lack of sleep.

You close your eyes, as if eliminating one of your senses would heighten to ones that Spencer is letting on fire. Suddenly, his touch is gone and you feel a lot colder. He turns the water on in the shower and you take the opportunity to pay attention to him. He, much your disdain, dodges your kisses by getting under the warm water.

Spencer, gesturing for you to join him, lets his hands hover over your hips and up your arms. There’s isn’t a spot on your body that he hasn’t touched. Every piece of your being is open to Spencer’s love, but only in the quiet privacy of your apartments.

It’s hard to think about that, as he holds you in his arms. The warm water mixes with the way his chest presses up your back.

“What smell do you want?,” He asks, referring to the many bottles of shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. The citrus scents are yours while Spencer prefers this ridiculously expensive coconut and cinnonmen shampoo.

“Hmm, Meyer Lemon,” You day and Spencer grabs the shampoo and matching conditioner from the shower rack.

He squirts some shampoo on his hands and lathers it up before massaging it into your scalp. Spencer, if the BAU doesn’t pan out, should go into professional hair care. He’s got these long fingers that reach across the expanse of your scalp and come down to place pressure on your temples. You lay your head back, leaning against Spencer’s upper chest. You still marvel at how your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck. It’s hard to feel bad for forcing him to love in private when his hands are all over your body, silently spilling his affections and feelings with every stroke against your back and every tender graze against your shoulder.

“Lean back to rinse,” He says quietly. Faithfully, you lean back and rinse your hair. Spencer’s fingers come to undo the knot and snags, his gentleness is indiscernible from his love.

Finally clean, you turn around to face Spencer. The water slaps against your back, it’s hot and stings but you don’t care. Spencer, so used to having to swallow his affection, tends to go a little overboard when he gets the chance to touch you and kiss you as you and him please. It’s like he’s making up for all the times when he wants to kiss you in the middle of the bullpen, but Emily's door is left open and she can hear everything from a mile away.

“Your turn, my dear,” you say, taking the opportunity to kiss Spencer's collarbones, up his neck, and over his jaw line. It’s a little absurd how pretty he is and totally unfair.

Spencer, not wanting to sacrifice a chance to kiss you, places needy kisses all over your face, except your lips. His goofy kisses send you into a fit of laughter. He seems so free like this, so unafraid to love.

Spencer turns around and crouches slightly, giving you full access to his hair. You lather up his shampoo and mirroring his actions, you massage the shampoo into his scalp. Early into your relationship, you found out that Spencer loves showers. It’s not surprising, he’s the cleanest person you know. But Spencer loves showering with you. There’s nothing sexual about it, even though the way his fingers dance around your naked body leave you wanting more. Showering with Spencer lets loose all those bottled up emotions from the cases. Your clandestine showering meetings are an intimate exercise where you remind each other that you're alive, you’re still breathing and still hanging on.

Maybe it could be like this all the time, only if you’re brave enough to say “yes”

You stand back as Spencer washes off the final suds that collected on his back. He shuts off the water and climbs out of the shower. You follow, but reach for two towels. Spencer wraps his towel around his waist and squeezes the water out of his hair into the bathtub. Drying yourself off, you sit on the bathroom counter and rub lotion on your legs.

The quiet moments of domesticity almost make you believe that this is your life with Spencer. It seems so real that at times you let yourself wonder what it’s like to love Spencer in public.

As it turns out, your little bliss is short-lived when a loud knock disrupts your quiet morning.

You shoot Spencer a terrified look; both of you can recognize that knock anywhere. Luke Alvez is here, and unfortunately you are too, but naked in your co-work/secret lover’s bathroom.

“Spencer! What the hell is he doing here?” You say, your voice raising with your fear of being caught.

“I don’t know Y/N. He was telling me the other day that he wants to take me out to you know,” Spencer says, letting his voice trail off.

“To what, Spencer?” You ask, growing annoyed at Luke’s unexpected arrival.

“To get me laid,” Spencer mumbles under his breath. His hands come up to hide his blush at the uncomfortable conversation that he remembers word for word with Luke.

“What? God. Did you tell him that, that um covered?” You say, hoping that Spencer would catch your meaning, but he shakes his head.

“Oh my God, Spencer. You need to go out there and fix this. Okay, I’m going to look for clothes,” You tell him, throwing a sweatshirt and a pair of boxers at him.

He puts on the boxers before opening the bathroom door. Luke’s loud knocking gets more insistent and Spencer manages to get his sweatshirt on before he swings the door open.

“Took you long enough,” Luke says, standing in the doorway.

“Yeah. Some of us like to sleep on days off. You should try it sometime,” Spencer responds, getting ready to shut the door in Luke’s face and return to Y/N in the bathroom.

“You’re hiding something, Reid,” Luke says, strong-arming his way into Spencer’s apartment.

“I have no clue what you're talking about, Luke. Everything is fine, I’m fine,” Spencer says. You listen from the bathroom with the door slightly ajar.

“You said you were sleeping?” Luke asks, and you internally cringe at what you know is to come.

“Yeah. Work has been exhausting and this is our only time to catch up on sleep. Actually, I was reading this study—”

“Reid. Don’t change the subject. Your hair is wet. And you’re wearing a sweatshirt to a college that you didn’t go to,” Luke surmises. Shit, you think. Luke Alvez, through all his brawn and muscle, is the most perceptive profiler, especially when it comes to Spencer.

“I just washed my hair and —” Spencer starts, but is silenced by Luke’s hand.

“If I remember correctly, Y/N went to Auburn,”

You can’t hear what Spencer says, but you only imagine him out there in his boxers in your college sweatshirt standing awkwardly in front of Luke Alvez. He picks at the embroidered scarlet “A” that’s sewn into the sweatshirt.

“You’re still holding out on that happening, aren’t you?” Luke asks.

“Um, I guess,” Spencer says, “you know I really do love Y/N. It’s not like it’s just a work crush or anything. Y/N is it for me. Even if I’m not it for Y/N,” Spencer says, and for some reason you think that his words aren’t for Luke.

“Come on dude, just let me get you laid. I know you’re hung up on Y/N but it seems like that is sailed. Spence, Y/N is seeing someone and it’s really serious. Penelope was telling me that Y/N mentioned something to her about this guy. I’m sorry, Spencer. But I don’t think that’s going to work out,” Luke says calmly.

“Oh yeah," Spencer says, trying to mask his smile at being Y/N's mystery man that Penelope gossips about, "but, really, uh. Luke, I’m not looking to uh get. I’m not in business of, uh?— ”

Unable to take it any longer, you swing open the bathroom door...

“I think what Spencer is trying to say, Luke is that uh, he, well really we got it covered,” You say, unable to watch the way that Spencer is utterly crumbling under Luke’s stare.

You pop out from the bathroom dressed in Spencer’s robe. Luke looks from Spencer to you and back to Spencer. You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to figure out if his friends are playing an elaborate practical joke that’s years in the making or if their longing stares and hidden smiles were evidence of something more.

“Y/N the guy you’re seeing is Spencer?” Luke asks, not fully believing his eyes.

“Yes, uh. You know we just wanted to keep things secret for a little bit because of Emily and the rules,” You answer, hoping he'd understand why you and Spencer were a secret.

“Huh, damn,” Luke says, still shocked that he missed all those obvious signs.

“Yes and I’d appreciate it if you stop insisting that Spencer get laid. I can assure you that that is taken care of. Thoroughly,” You say, sitting down next to Spencer on the couch.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Spencer says, appalled that his partner is giving his friend very innocent details about his quite active sex life.

“What, Spence. I’ve decided that the team should know you're a genius in more ways than one. Besides, the cat has been let out the bag,” You reason, liking the way Spencer’s blush returns to the top of his nose and down his cheeks.

“I’ve heard enough, um. But don’t be surprised when your uh extracurricular activities are interrupted by Penny,” Luke says before dashing out the door, already getting Penelope on speed dial.

Spencer, still sitting on the edge of the couch, turns to face you. His face is contorted, like he’s trying, but struggling to read the emotions of the room.

“You’re okay, Y/N. With everyone knowing?” Spencer asks, his voice full of trepidation. He sounds so scared, like he feels guilty for you wanting to keep your relationship a secret.

“Spencer, look at me please,” You say, scooting a little closer on the couch so your knees touch. He refused to make eye contact with you, until you place your fingertips under his chin, directing his attention at you.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I messed this up, I --” Spencer went on. His lips could hardly keep up with how fast his brain seems to work.

“Spence, hon. Please relax. I’m not upset. We’ll make it out of this mess. This love might be difficult, sweetheart, but it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt,” You tell him. Your fingers haven’t left his chin, but you do move them down towards the back of his neck.

“The best love stories were never easy,” Spencer says, enjoying the way your nimble fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging his head closer to yours.

You close the gap, and even though you’ve done this countless times, Spencer can still make your heart skip a beat or two.

“You still owe me a picnic, Romeo,"

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this and again happy one year to will!

I appreciate and love every single reblog, comment and like ❤️❤️

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Taglist (Comment to be added)

@shemarmooresfedora

@calm-and-doctor

@willowrose99

@nomajdetective

[wolvesandpetals]

Fanfic: Loki x Sylvie Oneshot (Hurt/Comfort, Rated: teen, no adult content. Set before, during and after that scene in 1 x 05)

She should be inside, talking to the other Lokis, learning more about this place and its dangers, and strategically planning their next move. Instead, she is out here in the open, staring into the abyss, like she has been almost her entire life. She has lived in apocalypses, watching the colors of the sky change as people merrily went on with their lives, completely unaware of how fleeting it all is. Yet, in the middle of all that death and destruction, there she always has been, the epitome of survival.

[[MORE]]

This “Void” is no different. This is another place where death and destruction reigns but she remains standing at the end of the day. The sky is blue, but far away, where it meets this foresaken land, is a menacing shade of purple, resembling the one in Lamentis-1. It brings back memories of that night.

As if on cue, Loki comes and sits down beside her. For a man who never shuts up, he’s unusually quiet. She wonders what he might be thinking about. Their impending battle, his future plans, the TVA, Asgard, Thor…

Or whatever it is that he was about to tell her before he got pruned.

—

It’s not the best time to talk when you’re driving a shoddy car away from the mouth of a hungry demon cloud, but that won’t stop him.

“Hell of a Nexus event you caused there,” Mobius comments.

Sylvie’s heart skips a beat. “You know what my Nexus event was? You know why I was taken from Asgard?”

Mobius winces internally. “Oh, that. Sorry. I am in the dark, just like you. I don’t even know what my nexus event was.” His heart breaks at the thought of what home might be like. Does he have a family? Kids? What did he leave behind?

The car hits debris on the road, and they both bump their heads on the hood of the vehicle. “I’m talking about the Nexus event at Lamentis-1”, he clarifies.

“Yeah, about that. How did you know where to show up? What was the Nexus event?”

Mobius smiles. This one is just as clueless as the other one. And even though he has been hunting her for as long as he can remember, he can’t bring himself to voice it quiet as harshly this time. “Well, you and Loki had a connection back there. That’s what sent the timelines into a dizzy. Two Lokis falling in love.”

She feels the air leave her lungs. “I’m sorry, did you just say, love?”

He doesn’t answer, and in the silence, punctuated by the creature’s evil roar, she realises she’s been so focused on what was happening- the running, the fighting, the revelations, the pruning- that she never really stopped to think about how it made her feel.

That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it always has to be when you’re on the run through space and time.

And though she is still being chased at this very moment, she can’t help but contemplate this time. How does she feel?

Now that she thinks about it, deep down, she knows, no matter how many times she tells herself she is only doing this to find who is behind the curtains and get her life back, she would have gone about it in a completely different way, like she always has- hiding, fighting, planning and executing. There is only one reason why she would ever stab herself with a pruning stick.

(Love is a dagger, after all. A glowing, pruning one.)

—

“Mobius is not so bad.” She begins, and it doesn’t take them too long to completely deny their feelings for the other as well as promise their undying loyalty and pledge to be at each other’s side when all this is over.

She snuggles closer to Loki. “Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“If this is not a table cloth, then it’s surely a cape, right?”

He laughs, and it does something to her stomach that she still has to find a name for. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why did you ditch your hood?”

She shrugs. A whole life spent in the shadows, away from the spotlight, against the very basic instinct of a Loki. And now? “I’m tired of hiding, I guess.” Her voice is resolute, and her eyes shine with glorious purpose. “I want to be seen.”

“I see you,” he says softly. “I’d like to see more of you.”

She looks up at him with a curious smirk.

“That’s not what-” He’s visibly flustered, and it’s so much fun to make him squirm like this. “It’s not how it sounds. What I meant to say is, I’d like to see you again, when all of this is over.”

She smiles. Didn’t he say this already, when she was scared that he would leave her when all this is over?

Is he just as scared of her leaving him when all of this is over?

“I don’t know”, she bumps her shoulder against his playfully. “Do I want to torture myself so much?”

He feigns offense. “I will have you know, kings and presidents and Gods have begged- begged just to be granted an audience with me. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Lucky me”, she says only half- sarcastically. “Stuck here with you under the same-”, she tilts her head to indicate the green material that is currently shielding two frost giants from the cold, the ridiculousness of this not lost on her, “-blanket.”

“Lucky you,” he repeats unironically, and his hand finds its way to hers, their fingers intertwining.

He’s held hands before. He’s had women snuggle up to him too. But not like this. Not anyone who matters. Not anyone whose eyes sing “Come home”.

He places a soft kiss on her hair, the lips that have uttered a thousand lies now focused on the one truth.

She feels her whole body burn.

She’s seen a thousand worlds die before her own eyes, always escaping before the blistering heat found its way to her, never having the ability to save even a single life, knowing it’ll cause a Nexus event and she would be discovered. She’s witnessed so many people’s death- people who gave her food, shelter, clothing, shared a laugh or two with the orphan child from Asgard- the poor, lost, scared, little Sylvie.

Now she’s here, and she’s not completely certain that she’s not going to die.

Yet, this is the most alive that she has ever felt.

Her grip on his hand tightens, and he squeezes in return. Mobius would have a field day if he was to walk out and see them like this now.

“Loki, if I don’t make it-” she begins.

He cuts her off firmly. “Don’t.” The thought of losing her has been on his mind since the moment he got pruned, and he doesn’t think he can handle the thought of losing her again.

“How did you feel when you got pruned before you could tell me what it was you wanted to tell me?”

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He knows what he wanted to say, but he doesn’t know yet what it was he was going to say. The words were about to roll off his tongue, and then it was gone. All hope, all possibilities of a future, snatched away in just a moment. “I felt distraught.” He confesses honestly.

“Exactly.” She sits up now, facing him directly, crawling out from under the blanket, but never letting go out of his hand. “If I don’t make it, I’ll feel the same way.”

His face clouds with hope and confusion at the same time. “What are you saying?”

She’s not sure. She’s learnt at least thirty-four different languages from her life in apocalyptic worlds, yet, no language has the words to capture quite how she feels.

“Sylvie?” He prompts again, daunted by the silence.

“Loki.” She says his name. Because that’s all there is. The one word. This is about him. Maybe it always has been, maybe all those poets and musicians and dreamers are right and your whole life does lead up to something.

Maybe her whole miserable, horrible, terrible life has been leading up to this.

This moment when she closes the gap between their lips.

Her eyes are wide open, just like his, and they are staring at each other, waiting to see how the other reacts.

Maybe this was a mistake, she thinks, but his lips press harder against hers.

It’s still just a tender, sweet peck, and their eyes are still open, but his hands give hers another squeeze. He pulls back and leans his forehead against her, making their noses brush.

And then his lips find hers with a fever that mirrors her own, and their eyes flutter shut.

She’s lived in apocalypses. She knows that worlds are dying at this very moment. And at the same moment, other worlds are being born out of this, this dance between their lips- a Nexus event that is creating new timelines, new life.

(Love is a dagger, indeed. And you can see yourself in it, after all. But when you reach for it, it doesn’t always disappear. Sometimes, it’s so very real.)

[mrsgiovanna]

A Dream Realized (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

The cutest request from a nonnie mouse, I had too much fun writing this and may have gone overboard😅

This takes place many years after the events of Vento aureo.

No warnings, just pure, self indulgent fluff😍💜💭🐞

“Giorno! Get out! Get out! Get out! You’re not allowed to see (y/n) in the dress!” Trish ran across the room to slam the door before Giorno could see you while you tried on your stunning designer dress and shoes in front of your excited bridal retinue.

“But I just want to talk to her, I’m leaving in a moment and I’ll only see her at the wedding now,”

“Gio, please wait, I’ll be out in a minute,” you call out, hurrying to get out of your dress so you could see him one last time before your wedding tomorrow,”

“Of course tesoro, don’t worry, I won’t leave without seeing you first,” Giorno paced outside the master bedroom, amused at the laughter and muffled conversations he could hear from the other side of the door. As soon as you step out of the room, you run into his arms, and give him the warmest, tightest hug you could with all the energy you could muster, almost as if you wanted to memorize the way his body felt against yours.

“I’ll miss you tonight my love, not that I’ll be able to get any sleep…” you say as you look up into his sparkly emerald eyes, interlocking your fingers around his neck.

“No, no bella, you need to rest, I want you to be well rested and alert for tomorrow, don’t want people to think I’ve tricked you into marrying me when they see your dopey, sleepy face,” teased Giorno, masking a mischievous laugh by burying his face in your hair.

“Whatever… my sleepy face is adorable, you just don’t want anyone else to see it,”

“Yes bella, you’ve caught me out, only I should be able to see you like this. Giorno locked his fingers around the small of your back and pulled away to look at you, “you know, the next time we hold each other like this, you’ll be Mrs. Giovanna, you ready for that? It’s your last chance to run away…”

“Oh you guys are so annoying, Giorno, come on, its only one night, (y/n), we’ll… try to have him back in one piece for tomorrow, can’t make any promises though,” said Mista as he slung an arm around the young Don’s shoulders trying to drag him off. With a few chaste kisses, Giorno had left and you went back to the room to go over the final details of the wedding and just have a moment to relax with your party.

 You both spent your evenings recounting stories of your childhoods together, you knew the boys were out somewhere making the best of Giorno’s final moments as a bachelor, but you weren’t worried, you wanted him to have a normal experience for once, well as normal as one can conjure while being the don of Passione.

Yours was a classic “childhood sweethearts” love story- little boy meets little girl, they become the best of friends and a mutual escape for one another from their painful realities, boy goes on an epic journey and attains a supernatural, almost godlike power and ousts the menacing don of the most powerful mafia in Italy for the betterment of society, boy then pursues girl after years of mutual pining for each other- just your usual love story…

Reforming Passione was not easy, and it took years of painstaking work to get to a point where Giorno could focus on his personal life, and be the man he thought you deserved. You never doubted that he would realize his dream, and you cheered for him silently from your position in the shadows, staying hidden for your own safety.

­ “Everything looks beautiful outside- here, I’ve brought over your flower crown and the bouquets that Giorno had sent over, I’m convinced this was made with GE, I haven’t even seen some of these flowers before,” marveled Trish as she helped fix your headpiece to your hair. “Giorno is already here, he looks like an absolute dream, well, he always did look great in black.” You smile at Trish, thankful that she was your maid of honor, she really has been the best friend you could have asked for during this entire planning stage, and you were excited at helping her in the same way when her time came.

As you give yourself one last look at your reflection in the gilded mirror, a little butterfly flutters through your window and lands on your outstretched hand, slowly transforming into a small note. The girls all gather around you as you unfold the letter and begin to read it. You recognize the immaculate penmanship immediately-

My beautiful (y/n),

To say that I’ve been looking forward to this is an understatement. Thank you for always being the source of my strength and my sense of calm in this crazy world. I’m usually a man of few words, so I’ll keep this short and save the rest for my vows to you. I just want to say that I love you and I’m ready to embark on this new adventure with you. Today you will take my name, and in exchange I get everything I could ever want- I get you…

P.S. look for a little blue box on your nightstand, please wear that when you walk down the aisle.

All my love, Gio

One of your bridesmaids hands you the box, and you open it to find a beautiful, elegant jeweled necklace, perfectly matched to your look for the day.

The ceremony was beautiful, romantic and lighthearted- everything you could have hoped for, and the sight of Giorno beaming as you walked towards him is one that will remain imprinted in your memory forever. Your reception was the grandest soiree you’ve ever planned and you were elated that everything was going according to plan, and that the guests were having a wonderful time.  Despite your exhaustion, you danced the night away with your handsome husband, until you both could barely stand. Finding a quiet corner, you decide to sit down and just observe the cheerful scene.

With glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, you both look at each other affectionately

“I can’t believe this is happening Gio, it feels like a dream and I’m scared I’m going to wake up…” Giorno looks at you while twirling a lock of your hair in his fingers, drinking in your loveliness, “It is a dream amore mio… one that we have realized. Nothing and nobody will be able to take this from us now…” he says as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, claiming them in a soft kiss, the first of countless more to come.

[adelindschade]

The Victory Ribbon: Snowball War Edition; P1

Let’s set the scene for our Heroine. 

Give me Gwyn in a killer black dress. Night Court Mandatory Black-Only kind of dress. Not too scandalous but the kind that makes her hair and teal eyes pop; she’s barely recognizable except for her girls’ gassing her up when she calls out Nesta’s name from the foyer. 

Something like this: practical (without the slit - yet - hmm, you’ll see why).

Emerie and Mor had winnowed Gwyn there with the enticement of a ribbon. See, as an incentive to get Gwyn out and comfortable, they feed into her competitive spirit, So, for small steps like getting out, attending a party, etc., they provide Gwyn with these achievement ribbons she wears proudly. 

Nesta and Cassian are already there; when Emerie, Mor, and Gwyn call out to them. The Valkyrie’s immediately shrieking - and run to the middle to hug it out - “I’m so proud of you!” “You look so good!” “Now it’s a party!” “I’m so happy you’re here!” [Cassian is holding his hands over his ears because they breached sound barriers]

Then, of course, Gwyn doesn’t miss a beat and grins with her hand out: “my ribbon now!” She ties it on her wrist and gleams with pride: it’s black - just like her dress! - and she loves a color coordinated outfit. 

Now the girls are having a blast. There’s music, dance, drinks - and they all cluster in the corner because apparently they have admirers. The fact they are now known Valkyries and Carynthians, they have a bit to celebrity status and are interrupted with some curious questions now and then. 

Azriel is hiding like the introvert he is until he hears the iconic screams of grown women reuniting - and he can't help but meander back to the gathering in search of some familiar faces, particularly a redhead he hopes is attending because his Shadows are going berserk. 

And then he sees her - all of her - including that damned black dress that totally set a different tune. But he has to play it cool. Cassian and Rhys are there and he does not need them teasing TF out of him; not if they don’t suspect a GD thing. So he enters, and greets them, congratulates Gwyn on coming out and how much joy her presence gives them all, all that jazz. 

“I got my ribbon!” She boasts happily, showcasing her wrist. 

She is so gleeful and glowing; her hair down in tresses and bouncing with every bit of movement, the skirt swaying with every step, swishing boisterously. 

“It’d look even better with a flower,” he replies without hesitation, plucking one of the floral decorations Elain put together (a beautiful orchid specifically named Queen of Night in gesture of the High Lady). She does not mind he intertwines it with her ribbon, looking very much like-

“A corsage,” Nesta sings with a shit-eating grin. 

“It certainly does,” Cassian accuses with a menacing smile that implies Azriel will never hear the end of it. He does his best to suppress a cringe and masks his embarrassment with a tight smile and focuses on Gwyn. 

He wants to leave but his shadows are literally dancing around Gwyn, becoming one with her, and he is enamored with the whole scene as she greets every single one. 

“Someone has a crush,” Rhys says warmly. 

“What?!” Azriel is ready to protest, snapping his neck towards the incoming couple. 

“The shadows,” his High Lord clarifies with a twinkle in his eyes. “They take to her.” 

“They always have,” Cassian assured, like the traitor he was. 

“Pleasure to see you again, Gwyn; enjoy the evening,” he bids, having an entire household to greet. Time was of the essence but he spared her a smile and particular glint in his eyes as he pass his Spymaster. “I’ll see you two bright and early tomorrow,” he jests to the other males, snickering. 

“Smug bastard; I bet he’s already prepared his victory speech for the Snowball War,” Cassian snorts, crossing his arms. 

“You’ll get him this time, baby,” Nesta soothes, patting his chest. 

Gwyn looks confused, much like Emerie, and poses the question: What’s the Snowball War?