#I think she would be attached to it though... it's like a title of honor...

[abyssalzones]

hi!! apologies if this has been asked/answered a million times before, but i'm curious about how you came to be the CEO of transfem stan.. obviously there doesn't need to be a "reason" for any trans hc, i do it myself all the time just for funsies, but i wasn't sure if you had some kind of analysis on or reasoning behind it. i don't think i've seen anyone hc it before and i love your work (art as well as writing) so yeah i wanted to ask!!! have a good one :-)

the CEO ??!?!? jeezzzz that's a lot of responsibility. do I get a desk plaque?

but no, unfortunately I haven't compiled a big work of analysis about this, if I'm honest I was taking a shower and thought absently "haha maybe estrogen would save her". and then started thinking about it a little deeper and went wait a minute. estrogen... WOULD save her.

if you're looking for 'reasoning' as in 'canon evidence', there's a lot of little things you could point to on the surface level: the whole duchess approves thing ("It's just like my life!... in a way"), the senior citizen ponytail kit gag, mullet as a compromise on having long hair (and the implications of having to eventually cut it to "pass" as a male character)... there's probably more but honestly that's not the point to me and not what I care about when it comes to "headcanons". It starts to feel a little goofy pointing at what are mostly jokes and going "look! Evidence!" when the basis I'm working off of is... very much not a joke.

so to tell you the truth, there are a lot of writing reasons why I really like transfem stan as a headcanon: I think it would suit her arc very well, it makes for a very interesting element to throw into her dynamic with ford, it creates a lot of mabel-stan bonding opportunities if you see them both as transfem (which... may or may not be the subject of a comic I'd like to make...), but plain and simple I just think it owns. I like the idea of a 60-something year old egg who starts transitioning after 30 years of pretending to be something she isn't, and can only now begin to have her own identity without shame breathing down her neck.

also butch women are very cool 👍

[xxfaithlynxx]

Ball Gowns and Vessel Ships

Pairing: PIrate!Sylus x OC!Lady Aria Harglow

Welcome to Aetherium! (I made a map even for this place! This dream needed to be written!)

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DON'T steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1:

What was the purpose of wearing all these Gods-awful layers! “Jen, I can not breathe!” I tried to adjust myself the best I could while she strained to pull the stays of the infernal garment that now felt like another layer of my skin. Breathing was already difficult, why she had to tighten those things more went beyond me. “Pull any tighter, and I fear my ribs will break!” I pulled away from her as I felt the portion of my ribs just beneath my armpits pinch, painfully.

“Miss, it is the latest style.” Her voice, hard and completely done with my shit, parroted back at me. I simply rolled my eyes and walked over to the full-length mirror. Father said the same thing….

“Jen, if I wanted to be contorted into a pretzel, I’d let you know. This is awful… how could any female bare to wear this contraption.” I rolled my shoulders and tried to make the minor adjustments so my lungs could expand properly. Everything about the outfit had been painstakingly nipped and picked at from my ladies, but Jen was the only one who had any experience with the foreign thing called a corset, so my other girls had been dismissed.

I heard the exasperated sigh from my oldest lady’s maid, and I could almost imagine her rolling her eyes to the ceiling, making me smirk at myself in the mirror. “I suppose I could loosen the stays a bit. A bit, miss. Tonight’s ball is an important one, remember.”

This made me roll my own eyes, “Yes, yes. Do not remind me….” I felt my shoulders slump slightly. My coming-of-age birthday ball…. I turned twenty-one today. So of course, to acknowledge the Duke, my father, of Aetheris Isle, a ball was being thrown in my honor. Not really… it was all for him. Duke Noah Harglow, my father. He was far from a King or Emperor, but he was the one who looked after my homeland, Aetheris Isle and the city of my birth, Linkon. He ruled with a kind heart, and a steady hand. My brother, Caleb Harglow looked after the affairs of the people, the expenses and what shipments arrived in port or were sent out.

I sighed heavily, Caleb had always been the mother-hen type, even before my mother passed. Doting and being overall overly protective. I was his baby sister after all. I’m sure he was taking complete control over the guest list for tonight. I can only imagine how limited he’ll make my dance card. He probably already has the names of the most wealthy and prestigious bachelors written down. I shuddered, making the pearls lining the alarmingly dipped neckline of my bodice to clack against one another. “He better not embarrass me….” I clenched my teeth and went to sit down before my vanity. “Jen, what do you think would look good with this gown tonight? I’d like my eyes to pop.”

~~~

I’m already bored… The music, soft lilting classical dance numbers had me near tears. I had a total number of two dances under my belt, all sanctioned by Caleb, of course. Two young men who’d, apparently, stood out to my brother’s critical eye. A Baron and a Viscount. Lofty titles indeed, but ick… My last choices for marriage candidates would have been those boys, though, given a choice… there wouldn’t be marriage candidates at all. Alas, I had no choice in the matter, if Caleb affirmed that one of these men met his lofty ideals, I just knew that I would be walking down that isle faster than I could blink.

I didn’t help at all that I’d known them both since we were in swaddling clothes. Baron Andrew Multon of the northern Shadowfel Coast, and Viscount Greyson King of Sunstone Vale to our south. Since our nation was at the nations center, we would spend summers together, Caleb and those two would be nigh inseparable. Attached at the hip they were if together. Tonight though, they all seemed so much… different. I was no longer the crybaby little sister; I was a woman of noble birth ready to mark her path in the world.

“Lady Aria, I do hope your night has been a splendid one!”

“Many blessings to you on this day, my Lady!”

“My Lady! Looking more resplendent every day!”

Making rounds around the room was exhausting, and my feet were beginning to hurt. Heels clacking over the tile floor, carving a headache into my mind with every obnoxious click, click. I was beginning to feel the weight of this damned dress as well. Typically, a young woman of noble birth would make her debut in something white, but I had gone over everyone’s head in the creation of this gown, and I didn’t take anyone’s scandalous comments to heart. I wanted, no, I needed something to be of my own choice, and if it was simply a dress… I would take it.

I’d had the court seamstresses create a gown in a deep burgundy, lined with silver and black, the corset was a last moment decision due to the low décolletage. Silver pearls lined the neckline of the bodice, bringing attention to the silver bow artfully tied across my chest, to make my bosom seem larger. Matching silver opera length gloves adorned my arms up to my biceps. I’d opted to have my hair half up and half down. The loose tendrils curled tactfully so they draped down the open skin of my back, and over my shoulders. The rest of my ash blonde mass was coiled and pinned almost painfully to the top of my head in a taillike weave of braids, and buns, all sorts of little silver, red and white gems positioned in sporadic placements to make the gaudy image of a debutante. The gown though, was truly verging on scandalous, and Caleb had nearly flown off the handle when he’d seen it earlier this evening, which had given me the most audacious smirk known to man curl a corner of my mouth upwards with glee.

“Ah! There you are, Ari!” My mood was immediately lifted upon hearing the voice of my closest friend, Tara King. Middle child of the King family, and younger sister to Viscount Greyson. “Can you believe this turn out? So many people!”

“Oh, my Gods, Tara… you need to save me from my brother, I can not stand this anymore.” I rushed up to her and whisper cried in her ear as I gave her a discreet hug. I was near to groveling at her feet by this point, I needed a moment to myself, without Caleb there like a growth, or shadow.

Tara was on the shorter side, brown bob cut, with an incredibly infectious smile. Anyone who’s anyone would find themselves within her glowing aura of happiness and not want to leave her side. Plus, I knew my brother had a soft spot for her. She wore a simple gown tonight, as I was sure most of the other young single ladies of the city would be, trying not to garner more attention than the young Duke’s daughter. Gag me with a spoon. Tara had a simple, yet elegant beauty about her, although when she got a bug up her ass, watch out. She had a storm inside of her that if released, could vanquish continents. I watched that delightful little shit eating grin spread her cheeks like the sunrise, her teeth glittering in the candle and gaslighting of the room. “Deal. You can count on me, Ari! Come find me later.” She brushed by me with those final words and walked up to my brother, curling an arm through his and turning him to face away from me. Thank you so much, you darling girl! With that as my cue, I tore through the throngs of people. Angling my way towards the terrace above the gardens, conveniently on the furthest edge of the room, away from the crowd.

When I finally passed the blessed threshold of that double doorway into the dark sanctuary of night. I allowed myself to breathe. Sucking in a lungful of the crisp night air. It’d been beyond sweltering in there, so many bodies, so many breaths, so much attention. Unwanted attention….

“Finally….” I whispered to myself once I’d caught my breath and shifted the weight of my skirts, so they weren’t pinching the skin at my hip. I swished them a bit, smiling idly as they looked like the waves of the ocean at night, gleaming beautifully in the full moon light, even being burgundy with black and silver, the satin fabric hugged me nicely, I supposed that was thanks to the corset. Approaching the stone railing of the terrace, I lifted the hem of said skirt and stepped up on to the raised step, allowing myself to bask in the view beyond.

Sparkling, calm water twinkled back up at me from the harbor below, scattered vessels from lands beyond, fisherman crafts and merchant ships dotted the huge expanse of the bay. The off-white stretch of the rippling reflection of the mirrored moon seemed to swell and coast. Moving my gaze up to that starry night sky, with the crashing of the waves hitting the shoreline, and the wind caressing the branches and leaves of nearby trees. The soft harmony of the quartet playing a piano number that set my imagination adrift with the thoughts of flying. Floating beyond the skyline, meeting a world that had eluded me for so long. Touching flowers and sands of far-off places. Experiencing the vastness of the world that had spent my lifetime just out of reach. Breathing in the air of places unknown, sleeping under the stars, and eating foreign foods beyond my imagining.

I could feel the tears swelling in the corners of my eyes, the music had cornered my heart, displayed the one thing I wanted most, what many women who lacked control over their own lives, without their choices desired. Freedom. Freedom to do as we wished, say as we wished. Go where we wished. That’s all it will ever be… a wish. A flight of fancy in a world where women were seen not heard. Where we held no value aside from being the fairer sex, and the pinnacle to carry on lineages. Aside from that, we were not expected to have a mind, or thoughts of our own. We were expected to follow dutifully along with our husbands and partners unto death.

It was when the music ended that my little trance broke, I stood there staring out into the night. Hands placed gingerly against the surface of the rail. The cacophony of laughter and the chirping birds of society broke through my reverie, shattered my wish, my one wholehearted desire to be free of this web. I tipped my head forward, allowing the remaining tears to breach from the line of my eyes, cascading down my cheeks before falling elegantly to the stone rail just below. Their darkened spots seeping into the surface, disappearing but leaving behind their mark of existence. What would I leave behind? What legacy did I have to leave behind?

I sneered at the quickly drying spots where my tears had fled and curled my hands into tight fists before snapping my eyes up to the sky again, meeting the moon in an unwinnable battle as it stared down at me. I want so much more than this… this title, this lifestyle… I. Want. Wanting was something ladies of high-born blood were not privileged to have. We simply accepted, silently. “Damned-able bastards.” I hushed my tone as I swore to the moon.

Inhaling through my nose, as far as the corset would allow, I tilted my head back until I was looking directly up. The stars above shone down, glittering silently in their void of tranquility. How I wish to be one of you…. I brushed my hands against my skirt before taking that little step back, lowing myself to the tiled floor once again. “It’s not fair.” I whispered, feeling the heat rise behind my eyes once again. I knew I wasn’t cut out for the solitary little wife role… what I wanted went far beyond that. But… as a Duke’s daughter… I also knew, what I wanted mattered little. Less than little.

“Look hard enough, dear and the void will stare back.” I sucked in a breath and swung around, facing the direction where the voice had come from. The furthest corner of the terrace, smothered by overhanging trees and leaves from the willow that towered from below within the gardens. The same willow my mother had planted when she was a child visiting the castle. I mentally shook my head free of these thoughts, throwing my focus back into trying to peer into the darkness of where whomever had spoke stood.

His low timbre made it clear that he was a man, his tone made it seem like he was bored, only barely edged with concern for me. Although, doubtful. A crying young lady was always overlooked as frivolous and badly bred behaviour. I gritted my teeth, “You have me at a disadvantage, sir.” How very ‘Lady’ of you.

There was a beat of silence, making me believe for a moment that I had simply imagined his voice, when suddenly there was a soft chuckle and sharp intake of breath. “Hardly.” Another small beat of silence, and then, “Your eyes… truly ravishing, my dear.” I sucked in a small breath as I straightened from the posture, I’d unintentionally adopted from the shock of this invisible person speaking to me.

“Sir, please would you be so kind as to come out from your hiding place. You most certainly have me at a disadvantage.” His voice intrigued me, the soft timbre of it almost seemed like a single finger being slid over my nerves in the softest kind of way. He sounded… sad.

A soft chuckle, that sent a thrill up my spine, and then, “Back to your party, little one. The darkness is no place for a dove.” I felt my eyes narrow, and a snide remark bubble up to rest on my tongue, but I forced it back down.

“Even a dove has more freedom to roam the darkness than I do, Sir.” With that statement, I turned on my heel, lifted my skirts and tromped back into the ballroom.

My brows were drawn together in anger, but soon relaxed as I began making my rounds around the room once again. My little balcony moment, the tenebrosity of the night as well as the mysterious voice still clung to me like a shroud, but I felt lighter somehow. Lighter than prior to my little escape. I could see Tara still clinging to Caleb’s arm, and smirked, giving my head a tilt. One of our many servants carrying trays of champagne flutes walked by and I made a grab for one of the fuller glasses before bringing it to my lips and upturning the glass, so a mouthful of the bubbly liquid sleuthed over my tongue, before it all rolled down my throat seconds after. Not a favorite, but it’ll do the job.

“Daughter… how goes your night? Has Caleb done his utmost to turn the party on its head for you yet?” I turned at the sound of my father’s voice and smiled up at the man. His hair was shorn on the shorter side, peppered with grays and whites throughout the thick black. A thick beard and mustache wrapped around his full lips, lips that were curved into his usual mischievous smile. The hairs in both also peppered heavily with the same grays and whites. His dark skin was a contrast to the man, darkened skin from hours toiling under the sun.

He’d said that in a previous life, he’d once been a carpenter, a hard-working individual who took it upon himself to walk about his village and fix things for anyone who asked. I loved his stories, I still did. I reached up to adjust the lapels of his cravat, seeing that it was teetering on being imperfect for his usual image of complete control. “My night has been splendid, father.” I smiled up at him, “You would be lost without me, wouldn’t you.” He reached up to collect my hands within the meaty, calloused versions of his own. Holding them tight to his heart.

“As I am loathe to ask, has anyone caught your eye, yet?” He’d ignored my words and glanced about the room. His voice held a note of sorrow behind it, and I smiled up at him from my heart, feeling that familiar warmth behind my eyes once again make an appearance. I knew he’d always leaned more toward the marriage for love side of things, since… that was how he and my mother had met. Him, a highborn son of a Duke falling in love with a young lady of bare nobility. Something of a fairy tale to be sure.

“Not a one, father. I doubt there shall be a gentleman to catch my eye.” I leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, hugging me close before releasing me slowly, his soft blue eyes looking down at me over his proud angled nose.

“Well… this little shindig hasn’t seemed to have brought many eligible gentlemen forth, there seems to be more lady’s present than young men.” He chortled as he reached up to clasp a hand around his chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully. I couldn’t help but giggle alongside him. “I don’t believe Caleb has done you a service, my girl. That boy… whatever shall we do with him?” He chuckled as he popped a mint into his mouth from one of the many pockets littered through his tunic and surcoat.

“Shall we hide all of his cravats again, father?” I giggled, covering my mouth with one of my hands.

“I don’t believe the boy has forgiven us from the last time, dear girl!” We both looked over just as my dear brother approached. A small smile tipped the corner of his mouth upward as he settled in beside the two of us, eyes flittering across the room.

“So, dear sister. Anyone catch your—”

I smirked and held up a hand, “I’ll stop you right there, dear brother of mine. For the answer is and shall remain a fervent no.” The night remained buoyant and lighthearted from then on, although, with so many eyes on me, I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me, and only me. Someone I couldn’t see… or someone who hadn’t wanted to be seen.

~~~

[rippersz]

𝖠𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝖨𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝖲𝖾𝖽 𝖭𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍

───※ ·❆· ※───

───※ ·❆· ※───

SEQUEL TO: Que Sera, Sera

(An OC/Named Reader x Larissa Weems) (Bittersweet; Hurt/comfort; Good ending)

Title Translation: The stars incline us, they do not bind us.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I need to tell you something.”

“You need to tell me a lot of things.”

They were in a ‘school-owned van’ according to Larissa. She was driving, probably leading Odette to Hell, or maybe the Underworld, or even(if she was lucky), to California. Or New York.

Oh the thought of that was bittersweet. New York… New York… Somehow, Larissa managed to bruise her favorite memory. Making it hard to touch- to think of. Although maybe it was her own fault. If she weren’t so emotional, so easily attached, so much this and that, then… well. Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Maybe she could have separated the woman from the memory. Maybe if she were a bit more dramatic, and wanted to make her companion hurt, she’d mention her old hopes and dreams right then and there. While she had Larissa trapped. She’d tell her how she used to wish upon each star in the sky, pleading that one day she’d be able to see New York with someone by her side. With Larissa by her side. Experiencing Times Square in the early morning; walking around Central Park until their feet hurt; stopping by an expensive bar to share a shot before losing themselves in the oily heaven of a fast food restaurant. They could’ve seen a movie. Or a show of some sort. They could have gone on a holiday - to see fireworks. They could have lounged in a well air-conditioned hotel room, watching TV and sharing stories. They could’ve seen the stars. The water. The lights from afar. They could have witnessed the world while sitting beside the one person they met so unceremoniously. So randomly. So… fatefully.

“I know,” Larissa’s voice cut into her thinking.

She held back a scowl. Since Odette agreed to hear her out, the two of them had calmed down. The tears were long gone, but that only made room for tension and suspense. Odette wasn’t sure what she’d hear and Larissa wasn’t sure what she’d say. Sorry wouldn’t be enough. Both of them knew that.

“…Well, are you gonna explain now or later?” She grumbled. Her arms had been crossed since the very moment she sat down, sending the world a message that read: Odette is very unhappy! But really the only one who needed to know that was sitting at her side, a center console being the only thing separating them.

Larissa held back a sigh.

“I’d prefer that you have all of my attention. Is that alright with you?” Her voice was soft, restrained; revealing the fact that she was trying oh so hard not to be placating. And mean. And desperate. Really, all she wanted to do was grovel - to dispel Odette of her negative emotions… but she knew it would come in time. And she knew she’d understand. Somehow. Someway.

And of course she was well aware of just how terribly their sweet bridge burned… just how charred and unrecognizable it was… just how broken. Fixing it would be hard. Piecing it back together… holding Odette’s fragile heart in her hands… It was an honor to have the heart in person, but it certainly made her task more daunting. Having to look into the beauty of her hazel eyes, having to spill the last bits of her life out on a platter - just to serve to the woman she gave up. Even though, at the time, she knew she’d regret it. And she was right. Regret it, she did. Regret it, she did.

“Fine.”

-

The rest of the ride was quiet. Words died on their tongues; false starts were thrown to the ground. Odette was pretty sure Larissa was thinking hard about what she was going to say - and Larissa was pretty sure Odette was thinking hard about if she’d cry or not. There was a time, when they were still in the thick of their friendship, where Odette didn’t like crying. She was rather obstinate back then - always set in her ways, always eager to explain her opinion, always desperate to be heard; it was amusing at the time. Amusing and comforting. Familiar. Intimate. Old. And gone. Long gone. Carried by the wind, whisked away into the past, lost to the passage of everything. Destroyed by actions and events both in and out of her control. Decimated by Fate.

Always by Fate.

Cruel, unforgiving, horrid Fate…

…Loving, precious, beautiful Fate.

Fate that pulled them together, brought them to the same sea, and then pushed them apart, sending them to different lands. Only to have the tides take them right back to where they started. Floating in each other’s orbits. The Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies, destined- constantly- to smash into each other - to collide in a cosmic event that tore the universe in two. To meet beneath the setting sun, fated to say hello and goodbye. Hello and goodbye. Hello and goodbye.

Hello, Odette’s eyes read- warm and glimmering and welcoming and brilliant.

Goodbye, Larissa’s gaze responded- cool and detached and secretive, hiding hiding hiding all she felt.

Every emotion. Every bit of her soul. Allowing Odette to claw at her chambers and open her up a bit more, giving her permission to pull laughs and stories and memories. Letting her break through Larissa’s walls…… only to shove her out again. Violently. Pushing her off the edge of the abyss. And never looking back.

Or always looking back - depending on how one viewed it. Her dreams, for example, featuring getting another letter from Odette and finally sending one back; or her everyday desires, how cluttered her mind was with all of their words. Their thoughts. Feelings. Maybe her quiet longing meant she reminisced constantly. Or perhaps it was just a testament to her pathetic behavior. Always the coward, wasn’t she? Nevermore’s brave headmistress, equipped to take care of business matters and student issues; strong enough to lead a school with her gloved hands.

But not strong enough to send a letter. Just one. Pre-written, too. Enveloped, as well. But never sent.

God, how pathetic could a woman get?

-

“Please, come in,” Larissa spoke softly as she unlocked the door to her office and stood aside, welcoming Odette with a stiff body and pounding heart.

Naturally, the smaller woman was hesitant. Hesitant and angry. Ticked off. Pissed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you work at Nevermore?” Odette growled, storming into the office and approaching the desk before she whirled around and faced Larissa with a glare.

The tone of her voice- the accusation, the implication, the veiled disgust- had Larissa flinching; her heart nearly spazzing out in macabre surprise. And as if sling-shotted into defense, the principal let the door close harshly behind her while she straightened her back and fixed her shoulders and lifted her head, eyes ablaze with disbelief and rage.

“I suggest you fix your tone immediately,” she spat, “I don’t take kindly to any amount of disrespect aimed toward me, my students, or my line of work, Odette. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care how long it’s been. Do I make myself clear?” Larissa’s expression was twisted into one of fury. Her hands were clenched into fists, her chest was heaving, her eyes were wide. Wide wide wide, staring at Odette as if she could barely recognize her. As if she were a stranger. As if all of their letters, their words, their love? would turn to ash should Odette dare to speak out against outcasts- should she dare to speak out against her family.

But she wouldn’t. Of course she wouldn’t. Odette was still the same woman she was in their letters. She was still respectful, still full of humor, still willing to listen listen listen and learn learn learn and love love love. She was just hurt. Torn apart in some ways. Picked at by Larissa’s clumsy hands, ripped at by her nails, pushed to the ground and stomped on… and not on purpose. She didn’t mean to hurt her, of course. She didn’t mean to break Odette’s heart. She didn’t mean to turn her life around. She didn’t mean to mean so much.

But she did. Whatever she intended to be didn’t matter because she did. She did mean the world. And she did hurt her old friend. And that old friend did come back to her. She’d always come back to her. She’d always want her. Odette knew that. But Larissa… well the fire that sparked within her eyes spoke to some uncertainty. To some mistrust. She never told her much about her job - she never told her much about herself. White lies were easily crafted through pen and ink. Avoiding questions could be a skill perfected. Memories, stories, conversations were different from sharing personal information. Working at Nevermore, for example, was serious and private… and risky. There was a chance that if she had mentioned it in the past, she wouldn’t have ever received a response from Odette at all. And that would have been the end of it. But since she kept it close to her heart, since she referred to her own unconventional looks in the vaguest sense possible, she had perhaps saved herself from a heartbreak far more bitter than the one she actually experienced.

Nevertheless - Odette’s annoyed expression fell instantaneously.

“No no no,” she began, swift and hurried and surprisingly soft, oddly reminiscent of their letters, as she tried to rectify her mistake. “No no that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that,” her hands pinwheeled, “I just meant- well usually working at Nevermore Academy would call for some mention, wouldn’t it? How could you just- I dunno- how could you just keep that from someone, Larissa?” It was clear that she was trying to tread the line carefully. Not step too far to one side and not fall onto the other; wishing that perhaps they’d just stayed in the middle of the street after all. Seclusion seemed far too intimate.

She’d spent all that time not knowing Larissa’s face and loving her anyway. How on Earth was she supposed to be normal in her company after finally seeing her? How could the Gods place someone like that in her path?

How could she possibly love her even more?

“I was uncertain. I didn’t know if you’d be very receptive or… kind.” Larissa’s response was measured but hesitant- like she finally realized just how silly she sounded.

“Kind?” Odette slipped her bag off of her shoulder and placed it on the wooden desk she leaned on - right before crossing her arms and shooting her old friend a look. “What do you mean kind? Was I ever unkind? Was I mean?” Hazel eyes rolled within her head. “Just say what you really want to say, Larissa. Stop beating around the fuckin’ bush.” It hurt her to be so assertive, to be so rude, but she was aching. And desperate to forgive.

Oddly enough, the no nonsense tone seemed to sober up the principal quite quickly, leaving her to take a deep breath and nod as she edged further into the room. It was her office, she could do what she wanted… but Odette was there. And for some reason, things were different when Odette was there. Things felt less like her own as she felt less secure. Because everything was her fault. And guilt was eating her alive. And Odette looked so damn beautiful even when she was upset.

“Okay.” Larissa finally decided, throwing her heart to the wolves. “Okay.” An elegant hand went out and gestured toward the couch near the fireplace as she glanced away from Odette’s withering expression. “Will you please take a seat and make yourself comfortable? I can make some tea or-”

“I’m okay, thanks,” she was cut off.

The sharp tone had Larissa deflating, heart panging with guilt as she hid her instinctive desire to pout. Kindness was not something she deserved, no, but Odette did not have to make it so difficult. She did not have to make the entire process, explanation and apology and all, so grating and awkward. Or maybe she did. Larissa wouldn’t know. Larissa never had to listen to the reasons why her old pen pal, her old friend, suddenly stopped responding to her. Larissa never had to experience the pain of abandonment like that and Larissa never had to stumble upon said old friend and wonder if she was even worth pursuing anymore. No, she never had to do what Odette did.

But she did have to make it right.

So she nodded, reached into her purse, and fished out a key.

“Then if you’ll give me a moment, I’ll be with you. There’s something I have to fetch first,” and without waiting for a response, Larissa ducked out of the room and walked into the hall - leaving Odette alone with her thoughts.

The exit was very abrupt, but Odette’s more optimistic tendencies told her to be patient with Larissa and allow her to collect herself. If she didn’t deem the explanation enough, then she’d simply walk out. She’d simply walk out, close the door behind her, find her way back to the Academy entrance, and book an Uber or something to get her back to the cabin. It would hurt, she knew. It would really really hurt. But it would be necessary. Some people are not supposed to know each other for life; some people are better left separated. They mixed like salt and sugar in their letters - unable to tell each other apart as Odette’s sass rubbed off on Larissa and Larissa’s vocabulary rubbed off on Odette. The age-old study of transferred traits between individuals in frequented close environments was only proven within their friendship. But being face to face was entirely different. Larissa was gorgeous, first of all. Such long legs and porcelain skin and perfect snowy hair and refreshing floral perfume and red lips and blue eyes and velvety rich English tone. So lovely. So out of Odette’s league…

Letting out a relenting sigh, black sneakers took her over to the couch Larissa had gestured to. She suddenly felt so drained. Like the entire mess of bumping into her old friend had just gripped her vitality in both hands and tugged it away from her. If Larissa felt the same, it didn’t show. Though then again, Odette had a feeling that she didn’t let many things show in the first place. Emotion was weakness in an authoritative position - especially when the one feeling emotions was a woman. A beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who probably ran her school with much prestige and pride. Because that’s just the type of soul she was; Odette could remember that with fondness. The woman’s determination. Her success in everything she put her mind to. It was admirable. It had Odette looking around, taking in the dazzling decor of the office she sat in - feeling some sort of warmth coil within the corners of her soul. It was only a moment later, after she admired the mirrors on the ceiling and the walls and the golden details and high-backed leather rolling chair behind the long mahogany desk, when she realized that it was pride. She was full of it. Pride. Pride for Larissa and only Larissa.

Good memories of the other woman’s childhood were few and far between. Life had been difficult for her; being cast into her brother’s shadow, being outed by a trusted girl that she kissed one too many times, forced to remain in second place during her school days as her roommate took gold every. single. time. Her life had been frustrating. Maddening. The paper did very little to muffle the hurt in Larissa’s heart - Odette could feel the scorn and sadness even from California.

But in that moment, soaking up the lavish office Larissa found herself spending most of her days in, Odette could feel nothing but pride and relief. Larissa deserved to have her job. She broke her heart, yes, but she still deserved the world. And in her own way, she had it. Odette could not give her anything more. Except maybe acceptance. Except maybe understanding. But that was a thin rope she’d be walking on - balancing carefully - desperate not to ruin everything but understanding that she was allowed to be upset. Just because Larissa showed remorse didn’t mean anything.

Or it meant everything.

“I apologize for the wait-,” speak of the angel, “-I just felt it was necessary to pull this out first.” Larissa huffed as she walked through the office door. She seemed a bit out of breath while shrugging out of her coat and getting herself finally situated. And ever the curious soul, Odette turned to peer over the back of the couch with wide hazel eyes.

The ‘this’ Larissa was referring to was a box. Held in those strong hands, bare of gloves and delightfully elegant and long, was a box. It was small and dark with a golden locking clasp and metal detailing along the edges. It seemed mid-evil. Important. And Larissa held it tightly, still taking care not to scuff it or damage it as she sauntered over to the couch and took a seat on the opposite side. Odette watched intently as Larissa’s hands moved to cradle the box, keeping it close to her body like it was a precious child. The rest of her was a large contrast to her soft touch - she was sharp; all tensed shoulders, straight back, and grave features. It was clear just how uncomfortable she was. The clench of her jaw and line between her fair brows said enough. But despite that, and despite the way she perched herself on the edge of the couch, clearly not willing to settle into comfort just yet, Larissa still took a deep breath and cleared her throat. Then fixed her gaze onto Odette - who had yet to look away. It was hard not to stare. She’d never had that problem before, but with Larissa… well. Everything seemed to be different with Larissa. Including apologies.

“The last letter you sent me was on October 28th of last year. 2024…”

Odette watched silently as Larissa took a deep breath and began unclasping the pretty metal lock on the box.

“…that was after a very troubling time in my life…”

Porcelain hands curled into the depths, collecting its contents - all of which were hidden from Odette’s wanting eyes.

“…a time in which I was unable to respond.”

Her blood ran cold. She didn’t even let Larissa continue before her mouth was falling open.

“Why.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. It was phrased as a demand. Why. Why why why. What happened. Who hurt Larissa. Goddammit- she knew it! She knew something happened! She knew her friend wasn’t safe. She knew-

“I was stabbed. With a syringe of nightshade,” Larissa’s eyes snapped up and Odette felt her heart crack in two at the sight of the barely restrained agony in that midnight blue gaze. “And I fell into a coma… so I couldn’t respond.”

Odette didn’t know what to say. All she could do was frown. And blink. And try to push down the full-body ache that ran right alongside the tears fighting for control behind her eyelids. Well- well of course Larissa couldn’t respond. She- god she could have died! She nearly did! If Odette were in her shoes, their correspondence would have been the last thing on her mind. If Odette were in her shoes, healing and survival would be key. If Odette were in her shoes, she- well… she wouldn’t know because she wasn’t. And since she wasn’t, all she could do was swallow her tongue and allow her old friend to continue speaking.

“But, even so,” Larissa sighed, “I recovered. And still didn’t reach out.” Her hands were fidgeting behind the lid of the box while her eyes searched Odette’s, wading through the hazel warmth, trying to find purchase there. “And for that… I have never been more sorry.”

The hands moved. The lid closed. Something was placed in between them, resting on the soft cushions of the couch, delicate and familiar. All of them colored differently. All of them with a unique wax seal. All of them written to the same woman. All of them opened politely; all of them sliced clean across the top with a dull blade - leaving the seals untouched. Leaving the words unbothered. Still preserved in their sentimental beauty. Forever dedicated to Larissa Weems.

Even while she rested in Limbo, dancing within the grey space between life and death. Unknowingly fighting for her life while Odette cried into her pillow every night and tried not to think too hard about why the woman she loved just suddenly up and left her.

But she didn’t leave her. Not willingly, at least. Not with her permission. No, her life was nearly stolen from her body - ripped from beneath her hands by a wicked person that Odette wished she could meet so she could deck them in the fucking face. But she couldn’t, because that time was long gone and Larissa had already made her recovery and the other person was probably (hopefully) dead. So to put it simply, she was ultimately, a bit too late. And she couldn’t rewind and go back and tell her old self to send more letters for when Larissa woke up. She couldn’t go back and say “She’s hurt. Give her time.”

…But maybe it was good that she couldn’t. Maybe it was good that she couldn’t say a word. Because even when Larissa did have her time back… she didn’t say a word. She was probably recovering psychologically, but she didn’t say a word. No “Hey Odette, I’m alright. Here’s my number so I can text you while I recover from my coma.” No “Odette, I miss you. I got very hurt but I’m okay now. How are you?” No “I miss you I miss you I miss you I love you thank you for loving me and missing me back.” Not a bloody word.

Odette felt the tears spill over before she could stop them. Her eyes were stinging, her hands were shaking, her lower lip was quivering and she hated getting emotional but when she looked up into Larissa’s eyes, seeing the surprise and the horror and the guilt guilt guilt…… well she couldn’t suck the sadness back in. The tears were already down to her chin - and her mouth was already moving before she could stop it.

“I’m sorry.” It was hoarse- whispered- choked out into the tense silence of the office air. “I’m so so sorry, La-rissa,” her voice crack was embarrassing but she ignored it, choosing instead to watch the way the older woman’s expression turned into one of utter grief.

“No. No no no Odette you should not be apologizing,” and she shuffled closer, moving the box and the letters onto the table so she could grasp Odette’s forearms and hold them gently in her clammy hands. “Do you hear me, Odette? Absolutely not. No apologies. You did nothing wrong. I-” Larissa swallowed, eyes wide with urgent understanding and the intense need to comfort. “-I am sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I am sorry I didn’t respond. I was just- I was-” but she couldn’t say it. Her lips pressed together, firm in a hard line, and her brow furrowed; like the words teetered on the edge of her tongue but her teeth were thick iron bars, keeping them from spilling out.

Odette frowned, heart aching terribly as she moved to brush away her tears. With a sniff, she asked, “You were what? What were you Larissa?”

And the woman’s shoulders drooped. A sigh left her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, weighed by the implications behind her words.

“I- I was… frightened,” her hands moved away from Odette and went tangling themselves together in her lap. “I didn’t know if you’d- if I sent another letter, if you’d realize that our correspondence was not what you wanted after all. I mean the letter you sent originally wasn’t even addressed to me, so why would you want to… why would you want to dive back into something you finally escaped?” And Larissa’s tone grew so soft, mumbled beneath her breath, that Odette had to strain to hear. “I was scared that you’d realize you didn’t know me. And wouldn’t want to be- wouldn’t want to talk with me… anymore.”

Odette blinked.

Then blinked again.

“Are you an idiot?”

Honestly she didn’t mean to say it. It was one of those moments where something lingered in the back of the mind and you told yourself not to say it but you got so caught up in not trying to say it that you just said it anyway. And it was quite comical really; in her sad dramatic haze, Odette looked at her old friend with a queer expression and a tilt of her head. It had Larissa’s eyes widening- the tears falling down her cheeks but no longer sparked by sadness; they fell just to fall.

“Excuse me?” Her lips parted in shock. Odette wanted to kiss them.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to- god-,” she sniffled and wiped away the rest of her tears before fixing Larissa with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, it’s just… well… I’m not really sure how you could think that. I’m not the- the type. To regret, I mean. And certainly not the type to regret you. I mean you’re so- you’re just so- ya know.” Odette’s hands rolled over and over in the air, utterly desperate to get her point across in one big huff.

But Larissa had absolutely no clue what the fuck she was talking about.

“Odette-”

“You’re just so amazing!” Larissa flinched at the outburst as the younger woman stared with wide watery hazel eyes. “Amazing! And smart! And so eloquent- and I’m just so lucky I was ever able to be your friend in the first place! And I even- I-” she looked down, glancing at the letters on the coffee table with fondness, “I kept your letters too.” She smiled. “All of them. I mean they’re hidden away now, to avoid any sadness ya know but- they’re still there. They’re still there. They always have been…”

“Odette-”

“…And like honestly, that should come as no surprise! Your writing is lovely, really and- and you’re lovely! You’re-” she took a deep breath, her shoulders heaving with the strength of it, “perfect…”

“Alright that’s not-”

“So beautiful, too-”

“Oh- thank you, but-”

“And funny and creative-”

“Yes, thank you Odette-”

“And sparkly! Strong! Sophisticated and intelligent; god Larissa you don’t even know. I’ve been hooked ever since that first letter. And then the second? Girl, I was gone. Just absolutely-” Odette pressed a few fingertips to her head, at an angle, before theatrically throwing her hand away, “-gone. Totally out of this world type of gone. And I’m so happy you wanted to be my friend after that- I’m so- I’m so lucky that you didn’t think I was too nerdy or annoying or rambly or- or anything but myself! And- and-”

“Odette!” Larissa shouted, surging forward to wrap her hands around the other woman’s biceps.

“And I think I’m in love with you!”

…

…

“..What?”

Pale hands slipped away from shapely arms.

“No-” Odette’s face fell, her expression slowly replaced with one of sheer undisturbed terror. “No no no-” She began shaking her head. Back and forth and back and forth. “No no no no- that wasn’t supposed to come out- not now. Not here-”

Larissa was frozen. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with-

“Nono no no no oh god Larissa I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean- God I’m just, I’m just fucking this all up! Please ignore me. Please don’t even-”

Larissa watched distantly as Odette’s chest rose and fell with a heaviness, expanding and compressing and falling flat as she hyperventilated. So panicked, she was. So uncertain. Even though she finally- finally- told Larissa all she had been wanting to hear for so long.

I think I’m in love with you.

A smile crept across red lips.

“-I promise I’m not a creep, I promise the reason why I was writing to you did not just rely on the fact that I love you. Actually, just forget I said that! Forget I admitted anything because it’s- it’s not true and-”

“I think I love you too.”

“-and whatever I’m saying is just spilling out for no reason because I’m nervous I’m seeing you again and- and-……. What?” Odette gaped, eyebrows shooting up to the heavens.

Larissa found it endearing. A warm blush ran to her cheeks.

“I said,” came her stuttered breath, “that I think I love you too.” And with that, a slender palm was running along the curve of Odette’s soft jaw and beckoning her closer. It was slow, it was loving, it led her into heaven as Larissa’s blue gaze melted and her red lips parted - so beautiful - so wanting of Odette’s affection.

“What- is happening right now…” the redhead murmured, eyes wide as their lips brushed together oh so softly-

“Do you want me to stop?” Larissa spoke, hesitant and in need of reassurance.

Odette blinked, glancing from one blue eye to the next before she cleared her throat and placed a palm on Larissa’s shoulder. It kept her in place while she leaned back.

“No just- just pause. I have to show you something first too. Is that okay? Just like two seconds, don’t even move.” Then she was popping up from the couch and going over to the desk, immediately bending to rifle through her purse for something.

Larissa watched her hurried movements with keen eyes, feeling the thump of her heart in her ears. She was planning on kissing Odette senseless, but clearly the other woman had different plans. What she possibly could have stopped her for was beyond Larissa’s comprehension, leaving her frazzled and on edge until the redhead went ‘Yes! Got it.’ and came dashing back to her side. There was a soft smile on her face when she wiggled closer, pressing their thighs together before depositing something in Larissa’s lap.

“Read it… it’s important.”

Larissa glanced into the hazel eyes of her companion. Only warmth existed there. No betrayal. No contempt. Nothing but love and acceptance and a soft swirl of melancholy. There was no reason not to trust her. There was no reason not to open the letter in her lap.

So she did just that- and squinted as she read the unfamiliar handwriting.

'Dottie,

I’ll start with saying that it hurts that you’ve found someone else, but I’m also really happy for you. It’s like a weird mix of feelings. You know what I mean. Anyway, she sounds great. Like really great. Don’t be sorry for going into detail; you have every right to do so. Maybe, in future though if we keep talking, don’t mention her so much? You used to talk about me that way too once upon a time, but it was also different. Like now it feels more… real. Probably because I’m not the one on the receiving end (of your romantic love at least), so it’s not the same. But that’s okay! That’s okay. You deserve all the good feelings, Dottie. You deserve all the good love. This ‘L’ person sounds cool. A little too formal for me, but cool. I hope she treats you better than I did. And if it just so happens that she drops your heart, tell me - cuz I’ll always wanna pick up the pieces. Glad you’re doing okay.

Talk next time, Mirabelle’

As if sensing that she finished, Odette’s voice came in a soft whisper. “She wrote back somewhere around mid-March. I didn’t um… I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I didn’t wanna stop talking. So I just sort of responded and set her down gently and said look… I’ve found someone else. And I really cherish this person… and because of that, I can’t let them go.” A pale hand snuck around Larissa’s wrist; it was warm while running up to her palm and slowly interlocking their fingers. “And you uh- you did drop my heart,” Larissa grimaced at the reminder, “But I didn’t wanna reach out to her. Cuz like, at that point, the little pieces had little L’s written all over them and someone with an M name just can’t put something like that back together…… ya know? Am I making sense?”

Larissa turned to look at the redhead, giving her a soft look as she started speaking again.

“Cuz like if I’m not, just tell me. I know it’s really weird I didn’t say anything. But I didn’t wanna lose you and maybe I was scared too that you’d realize you didn’t want this anymore and- I- I dunno. Like you’d come to your senses as well and-”

“For such a beautiful writer, you ramble off track quite often. Did you know that?” Larissa interrupted, not unkindly but instead with a playful little smile on her red lips.

The sound of that low voice had Odette pausing. A rosy blush grew across her face.

“Yeah I- it’s a habit. Sorry…”

“I didn’t say that for an apology,” Larissa shook her head, turning to give all of her attention to the woman next to her. “I said it because I find it fascinating. I find you fascinating. Utterly so.”

And there wasn’t even a hint of dishonesty in her warm expression. Odette could hardly believe it. Her? Fascinating? When Larissa was so… Larissa? Goodness. Well. She shot her companion a shaky smile before giving her a lazy shrug.

“I mean I’m not- ya know. Crazy cool or anything.”

“You are to me,” Larissa offered, amusement lacing her tone as she slowly leaned forward. “To me, you’re cooler than ice.”

Odette let out a little scoff of a laugh, looking over the other woman’s features with love. Oh those blue eyes… endless… and that strong nose… divine… and those red lips… plush… getting closer…closer… so close…

“Just kiss me already,” Odette breathed, her arms sliding up around Larissa’s neck, lazily draping over her shoulders. “Please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely~”

───※ ·❆· ※───

I don't like this so much but I hope it's alright. Tell me what you think? And do let me know if you'd like to see more Odette. Love you much! - Rip x

(P.S. I know Que Sera, Sera is spanish/italian and this is latin. I know.)

───※ ·❆· ※───

[thewildsophia]

OK KO, Let's be Heroes!//KO x Older Sibling!Reader

A/N: I can't believe this hasn't been written before omg. I had the thought of an older sibling reader to KO rolling around in my head while watching the series and was shocked to find no fanfics with the premise. So I did it myself.

NOTE: The Reader's powers are basically Portgas D. Ace's from One Piece. If you aren't familiar, I've attached a few gifs to give you an idea of what it's like.

Word Count: 2026

"Read More Link" placed due to length.

So I can’t think of a realistic way for Reader to be a biological older sibling to KO considering the timeline of what happened.

Soooooooo…You took on the role of KO’s older sibling, even though you’re not related by blood.

[Insert tragic backstory here] and Carol had found you when you were a young teenager wandering about without a home to go to. When she found that out about you, she couldn’t in good conscience leave you alone, so she…adopted you basically. There wasn’t any paperwork involved so you just unofficially become her second child.

Carol was SHOOK when she found out about your superpower (and that’s putting it lightly, she was freaking out--).

It happened when she failed to light the fire underneath her stove a few days after you came to live with her and KO. Not thinking much about it, you held your finger up and lit the fire yourself. When she turned and saw the small fire burning on the tip of your finger she freaked tf out thinking you were hurt. 

A one-hour explanation later, she was now on board as to what power you have: You’re made out of fire and can set other things on fire just by looking at them. You even showed her some of your moves the next day faaaaar away from anything flammable. 

Carol encouraged you to become a hero and with her help you eventually did. You became a decently high-ranking hero at a young age, clocking in at level 6. 

There were a LOT of companies trying and failing to recruit you, but you chose to stay home with Carol and KO (no Carol is NOT crying-).

KO was quite young when you were “adopted,” being around 3 or 4 at the time. Because of that, he always assumed that you were his older sibling by blood and it wasn’t until one day between ages 6 to 11 that Carol told him the truth.

My boy was shocked, but it didn’t change anything between your dynamic. 

In fact, you became even more of an inspiration to him on his path to becoming a hero!

You helped Carol a lot at the fitness dojo until Carol got KO a job at Gar’s, to which Carol also had you hired to keep an eye on KO. Not that she didn’t trust him, she just knew that he could get in over his head sometimes and wanted to have someone be there to protect him. 

Talking about Gar’s, Rad and Enid absolutely ADORE you. You’re the unofficial manager appointed by them truly because you are a few levels higher than them. 

At first, when they heard they were getting two new coworkers, they didn’t think much of it. You and KO seemed nice enough so they didn’t mind having you around. 

It’s not until the Darell robot for the day comes busting into the plaza that their opinion changes. 

Just ask KO is about to get absolutely decked by Darell, you zoomed onto the scene in a blaze of fire and punched the bot, setting it on fire while also hitting it with enough force to send it back to Boxmore with KO nestled into your other arm. 

“Nobody ever touched my little brother.” You muttered under your breath while wrapping KO into your arms further to soothe him. You walk past a stunned Rad and Enid as you enter the store and get back to work.

That day, Rad and Enid also became your younger siblings. Pestering you with questions like “How did you get so strong?” and “Where did you get that power from?” Considering you’re a year or two older and much stronger you embraced the title with honor.

You actually became a little bit of a local celebrity after working at Gar’s for a while. People, locals really, would occasionally come in a ask to take a picture with you. Abashed, you said yes every time because you really couldn’t say no. Real Magic Skeleton even has a picture of you on his site with a small bio (You blushed so hard when you found out you thought you were gonna explode).

Speaking of which, KO LOVES to flaunt you around and hype you up, much to your embarrassment. He says stuff like, “Look at my cool amazingly strong older sibling!” and “My older sibling could beat up your older sibling!” 

KO means well, but he embarrasses the shit out of you.

MAD PROTECTIVE. If Carol is protective then you are on another level entirely. If someone even says something mean about KO it’s on sight. People learned very quickly that you are KO’s older sibling and that you will not hesitate to DIE to protect him (KO prays that it never comes to that).

I could see a rude customer coming in and harassing KO about Cob knows what and you just come up behind them and punch them out of the store. When Mr. Gar confronted you about it, you held your ground and stated proudly what you had done. He was honestly surprised at your resolve and didn’t punish you at all, saying “You should stick up for yourself and the ones you love.”

Lord Boxman even became a little weary about attacking the plaza knowing that you worked there and you are a pretty strong defender. That doesn’t stop him, of course, but he does strategize to combat you better.

Professor Venomous encourages Boxman to capture you and “convert” you to villainy since your power is something that could be very useful to them. You’ve heard people throughout your life make comments about how “villainous” your power is, but you never let it get to your head since you know who you are and that’s all that matters. 

Taking. Naps. Together. Seriously, if KO ever doses off during one of his shifts, you’re quick to follow him. You’ll scoop him up into your arms and sit down somewhere in the corner and fall asleep with him. Rad and Enid think it’s absolutely adorable and have several pictures of you two.

Rad and Enid will even join your cuddle pile in the break room when time permits (or when they make the time themselves).

KO will even occasionally crawl into your bed at home and sleep with you there. He says that your bed is more comfortable than his, but you really know he gets lonely sometimes.

Piggyback rides! KO loves to lounge on your shoulders and back and will often hang off of you as he does with Rad. 

You’re also just used to the feeling of holding/carrying KO that it sometimes feels weird when you haven’t for a while.

When you met TKO for the first time you kinda panicked like many of the other plaza members. It was an especially stressful time in your life (and probably much more for Carol).

TKO wasn’t that fond of you either which made everything 10x harder to deal with. He didn’t actively dislike you, it was more like he wanted nothing to do with you.

Once KO came out of that initial swap between himself and TKO, you didn’t really think much about it. 

When he mentioned some “Shadowy Figure” though you immediately began to do as much research as you could on the guy, you were determined to beat the crap out of this guy (if not kill him-).

Listening to KO cry into your and Carol’s arms blabbering about, “I’m so sorry!” and “I don’t know what he did to me!” You honestly thought this man had touched KO (I know I’m not the only one…right??). It took a lot of coaxing, but you eventually managed to understand what happened when KO told you the full story.

It’s not until Dendy begins to monitor KO and TKO that you start to give his alter much thought. You encourage KO to pursue research into his darker ego, assuming he’s okay with it of course, and offer to be someone he can talk to about it if he isn’t comfortable talking to anyone else about it. 

During some of these talks, you open up about yourself a bit to KO to make him feel better and let him know that the negative emotions he feels are normal. 

During some of the more intimate conversations, you tell him how you used to hurt people and even kill at times before Carol took you in.

KO doesn’t believe you at first. How could someone so kind and loving have killed in their life? You use that to help you explain that good people do bad things sometimes, but that doesn’t make them a bad person. 

You teach him that TKO isn’t something that he should be ashamed of and cage up in the back of his mind, but could instead be someone to rely on in times of need.

He feels a lot better after you tell him all of this.

Hugging and holding KO close to you during nights when he feels really bad about himself. Where he doubts his ability to become a good hero and to be able to harness TKO’s powers. 

You’d rock him back in forth in his bed while quietly soothing him over his crying. He asked you not to tell Mommy and you promised him that he had your word.

I could honestly see Reader lying to cover up KO’s tracks. Like KO is caught doing something he absolutely should not be doing and instead of immediately admitting fault, you would come up with some realistic yet unfeasible lie that only works about 50% of the time.

KO loves to spar with you! He learned most of his physical skills from you, stuff like punching, jumping, kicking, and all that fun stuff. You’ve never used your fire powers against him though.

There was one incident where Boxmore accidentally found out what your weakness is, that being water. A Shannon bot had thrown you into the little kiddie pool Rad and Enid had set up before the attack started.

When you jumped out of the pool soaking wet and unable to start a fire, the stupid sibling trio laughed and mocked you. Enid was quick to come in with a kick to Raymond’s head and you soon found your footing.

Boxmore learned that day not to underestimate you as even without your powers you’re still a physically strong hero.

However, it would seem that Boxman and Professor Venomous stored that data about you since some of the bots they send are equipped with water guns. You’ve gotten pretty good at dodging them, so that’s kinda cool.

You do remember one time after KO had gotten a handle over TKO where you had been drenched with a bucket of water and right as you were about to get socked by Raymond, KO had pushed you out of the way and dodged the punch himself.

You had never been more proud of KO than in that moment and you made that known to him after the fight. You ran up to him and cradled him in your arms talking about how proud you were and that he was becoming such a fine hero (that last one got him to blush a little).

Rad and Enid definitely took a picture of this and then proceeded to print out a copy and put it in the break room.

When you and KO found out that your mom was dating Mr. Gar, you both were a little unsure about how you felt. When Rad and Enid asked about it, they asked the two of you together and then asked you separately. 

Seeing as you’re the older sibling they thought that you would have had a better idea of how you feel about the whole arrangement and were bummed out when they realized that you really didn’t know how you felt. 

After the date you four hosted for Carol and Mr. Gar, both you and KO see how happy Mr. Gar makes your mom and decide that if she’s happy then you’re happy as well.

KO is honestly one of the best younger brothers you could ever ask for. He’s kind and selfless and wants to help others when he can. And in return, you are the best older sibling that KO could ever ask for.

Sorry the format looks off in some places, Tumblr just makes booty juice decisions like limiting the character limit per block to 4096 words...

[fiona-kitsune13]

Even if she was the Queen working with her, LBD still needs a champion, right? I nominate the Demon King of Confusion - the first demon defeated by SWK after he comes back with his powers and first immortality, who forcefully took over FFM and would kill the monkeys living on it when he felt like it.

With the only descriptors for the guy being "big, wields a blade, can fight with fists, somewhat honerable in not fighting opponents smaller then himself with a weapon" and with a title involving confusion, you can go as ham as you need with him. Maybe he can mess with ones ability to see things  as they are.

Maybe DKC also shapeshifts or it was a power given to him by both Macaque and LBD as he would need to be considerably stronger then before to even hope to go tooth and nail with SWK.

Souls go to Diyu to be cleansed and sent to be reincarnated, but DKC could be a crazy guy in whom none of the methods worked in the centuries he was there. When Macaque took over and took stock of what's what, he found the demon and recognized it from the stories told to him by the FFM monkeys, of SWK's victory over the demon, but not knowing what to do with him, Macaque simply shoved him somewhere out of the way. Until he was needed.

And it's an enemy SWK could concievably have forgotten over the years, thus the reveal could be a bigger surprise.

Maybe when he masquarades as a second mentor, he acts like King Bumi from ATLA, with more questionable jokes. Though the seal to drain MKs powers could also be subtler, maybe even having a secundary function of implanting thoughts in MK to turn him against SWK or along those lines.

The only reasons he would ever work with the Monkie Crew to save the world is that he wants to kill SWK himself and he can't do that if the world is destroyed. DKC could also be flirting with Macaque when SWK is in range, if only for the enjoyment of seeing the Great Sage turn red and angry.

I do like the idea of using the Demon King of confusion as her champion. I do think Macaque would keep him around to after LBD is gone but he would always be on thin ice since hes a bit of a wild card.

After a certain point, since our dear queen gets attached to Mk. He would definitely threaten DKC to leave him alone or at least make sure he doesnt hurt him.

And i love the idea of him flirting with Macaque just to piss off Wukong. I feel like Macaque would notice the anger and would flirt back just to either hurt the king or piss him off.

DKC: *kisses Macaque's hand* I'm honored to work for a Queen as lovely as you~

Wukong: *Feral growling*

Macaque: *smirks and locks eyes with Wukong as he talks to DKC* keep up the good work and I'll make sure to reward you~

Wukong: Mk give me my staff......

Mk: why?

Wukong: *glares at DKC* I'm gonna put that asshole six feet under again!

[probablygayattorneys]

10, 20 and 34 for the ace attorney ask game!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate it!

10. Favourite quote?

To be honest, no quotes really stand out to me? Like, there's nothing in Ace Attorney that stands out to me as so distinctive, so I guess I'll have to go with "Hah. I see the Barbed One has poisoned your mind." "An honor and a pleasure, Your Eminence." because @transpoettryinghisbest can testify that one has permeated into my personal lexicon.

20. Least favourite memory of Ace Attorney?

I'm not sure what exactly this question is asking, but I guess that anon I got who told me that I was fundamentally misunderstanding the point of GAAC because I was posting about it in first person (because, you know, you play it in first person) and said treating Ryu like a self-insert would cause me to miss plot points that would ruin my playthrough.

I had finished the game three months prior, not to mention been a fan of the series for 15 years. I don't like to pull rank but it really pisses me off that someone who wasn't even brave enough to attach their name to their criticisms was telling me I was going to ruin my playthrough of a series I literally grew up playing. Do not cite the deep magic to me, bitch, I was there when it was written.

Honorable mention goes to crying over Miles Edgeworth in the back of a police cruiser at 2 AM on Christmas Eve. That story is funny as fuck to tell now but it was not fun in the moment.

34. Do you think Miles Edgeworth should get another Investigation-game or do you think another character deserves a spin-off?

Listen. I'm always a slut for Miles Edgeworth, and I love the Investigations games so much that my Ace Attorney tattoo is based around it, but I think there's real merit in knowing when you told the story you wanted to and now it's time to step back and let another character shine. This is the lesson that Capcom could not learn that led us to the shitshow that they're for some reason calling The Apollo Justice Trilogy even though two of the games literally have Phoenix's name in their Western titles. Miles's story has been told, and it has been told beautifully. He was originally kind of pushed into becoming a prosecutor against his will but he went on a meaningful journey where he learned more about what it meant and actively chose that path for himself, and even was able to have the parallels reflected in Eustace and for him be the person that he needed when he was in his shoes. To continue on in that story is at best pointless and at worst insulting to the character and to what he stands for and has lived and learned along he way and the writers who already gave him a beautiful arc.

Let me tell you what I would much rather see.

Towards the end of the first AAI, Kay says she wants to form a second three-person Yatagarasu with people her own age, and I would fucking love to see a spinoff set a few years later where she's studying the bar to fill the defense attorney role, Franziska steps in as the prosecutor, and Ema is a brand new detective taking on Badd's role. This would be perfect, as Ema was originally supposed to be the star of the AAI games, and Miles could take a back seat role as an occasional mentor but mostly hands off and pretending he doesn't know what they're doing.

[liebgirl]

now that we’ve been sitting on it for four months i need to rank the tortured poets department for real… it means nothing to rank an album two days after it comes out like that’s pointless fr let’s take this seriously

guilty as sin. this is an insane song. unfortunately i read a book the week this album came out and this song is permanently attached to that book in a small part but as we all know i did my absolute best to remain chill neutral and only weird about tsc at the time of this album drop so it all balanced out in the end and none of the songs are particularly associated with anything cringe. except two. but not this one i only brought up the book because it’s a little bit associated. you understand. the song is a slay of epic proportions on its own of course. i’ve mentally made this one about so many fictional guys it’s crazy… we have fun huh

my boy only breaks his favorite toys. this one was my instant favorite she’s not going anywhereeeee

but daddy i love him. some people don’t understand it but i do… i love her…

the alchemy. honestly? who are we to fight the alchemy…. literally!!!!

the albatross. sort of like who’s afraid of little old me if it was a song i liked more!

so high school. what more is there to say than truth dare spin bottles you know how to ball i know aristotle brand new full throttle touch me while your bros play grand theft auto it’s true swear scouts honor you knew what you wanted and boy you got her brand new full throttle you already know babe…

florida. cunty! florence + the machine!

the black dog. aforementioned two songs. well we knew this would be one. like we knew that the whole time. what could i possibly have done to save this one… genuinely what could i possibly have done. we saved the album in time i know but i mean. we all knew this track was a goner. nothing to be done. it’s a great song though like genuinely let’s be honest… one out of 31 is a great ratio. april 18th me was expecting a much worse percentage tbh

down bad. i just like it :)

who’s afraid of little old me. mildly over saturated. but kinda deserved the hype she slays

fresh out the slammer. one of aforementioned two songs that kinda got ruined. this song is about cbs drama fire country forever there’s nothing to be done. it’s not a huge loss this song is a little mid if i’m being honest. i think it’s too short i don’t fuck with it heavily

fortnight. my husband is cheating!! i wanna kill him!!!!

the prophecy. song that makes you cry…

the smallest man who ever lived. crazy ass bridge. rest of the song. well.

i can fix him (no really i can). i like that this song title is formatted like a fanfiction title that’s a lyric to a taylor swift song…

imgonnagetyouback. like. cute fun song sure yes. cannot get it out of my head that me personally if i had asked for writing credits from olivia rodrigo on a song that sounded nothing like my song, i personally would not have released this. me personally…

how did it end. crazy song that makes you go damn her life suckssss for real… yikes!

i can do it with a broken heart. not even a bad song it’s just the popular one with swifties and i hear it all the time without my consent.

the tortured poets department. can i be honest. sometimes taylor swift writes songs that would be awesome if not for one utterly batshit ridiculous lyric that embarrasses me so bad i can’t even fuck with the song. this has happened many times she’s an embarrassing celebrity to like everyone knows this. it’s not even the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist” that’s actually fine. it’s what comes directly after that. “i scratch your head you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever” taylor. 😐 i can’t. i can’t even talk about this actually. also i can’t stand the lucy dacus and jack antonoff name drop lyrics at all like taylor please stop embarrassing me….

i do not actively listen to any of the other ones anymore so i just didn’t include them because why would i rank songs i don’t even listen to let’s take this seriously… they’re fine. the only one i might describe as a song i actively dislike is chloe or sam or sophia or marcus. like i do not care for that one at all

[myplushheart]

I know scarabs supposed to be taking over my blog but I can’t shut up ever and only my friends ever send me asks for these months SO WAM BAM GET ATTACKED WITH MINECRAFT

When Scarab plays Minecraft with Nyxie he basically becomes her constant guard because of her loose focus and need to explore and not really think much on things other than “wow that looks cool, let’s dive into it!” or “hey, I can make a snowman and name him Buddy!” and Scarab swears she’s given him second hand anxiety that a mother has with her rowdy sons.

Scarab mentally calls himself her knight or guard and takes such stupid pride in it. Living out his medieval dreams. But he only says it mentally cause when Nyxie says it out loud it’s embarrassing and he gets all flustered cause she makes a big silly deal about it on purpose out of love.

Yes, he tried to defeat the Ender Dragon without thinking cause of his own cockiness. Despite the fact this was during his first go around in a Minecraft world with Prizz-bizz and Nyx. They blocked off the Ender Portal or trapped him with obsidian so he couldn’t go back and kill himself again from his own ego while they got supplies for him. He was very dead set on winning this and this was kind of the only way we could help him. You know how he is.

”I’m fine. I can handle this.” “No- dude! You need, like, a plan! More stuff, too.” “Yeah! I mean.. I don’t know what stuff, but stuff nonetheless!” “I can handle this.”

cut to scarab in an obsidian prison with a wooden sign titling it “gay baby jail”.

”LET ME OUT THIS INSTANT!” “NO!! WE’RE GETTING YOU GEAR SO YOU CAN FIGHT BETTER!!”

Prismo actually knows the average knowledge of the ins and outs of Minecraft. Some casual stuff, and a few rarer stuff. He mainly mines. Nyxie knows the most basic of basics and nothing complex, like building a snow/iron golem or how a simple starter house is set up. She mainly goes out exploring. Scarab doesn’t know the game at ALL, so he’s either following one or the other and learning things along the way. Bro’s just saying “Interesting..” every few minutes.

Prismo and Nyxie are the main influences of why they have a whole backyard for snowmen and other tame-able critters. They give Scarab big sad eyes to convince him to bring another, and despite his attempt at rules and strictness, he loses anyways. They either sneak it in and get in trouble later or he cracks.

”… (slow turn, suspicious squint at them) ..tell me why I just heard a cat, you two.” “(NYXIE AND PRISMO BOTH HOLDING IN NERVOUS LAUGHTER)”

It takes him a while to get used to riding horses. The first time he tamed one he expected it to go as slow as a player, and actually got spooked when it went fast as lightning. He inched a bit. Then again with a little bit of an evil laugh. And now he rides this horse everywhere and has a hypocritical attachment to it. He was very adamant on making it its own little fence in their ever growing abundance of pets.

Let’s be real, he’d make an army of dogs the second he found out they’d fight for him. Whatever he hit, they’d be bit.

After finding out the hurt animal noises made their very emotional squid-fox-creature cry inside, though, they’ve since had to compromise in either turning off their NPC sounds or being very careful with the dogs. Unfortunately, they’ve still had to have a few graves. Nyxie makes all of them. Prismo doesn’t feel super bad as he knows it’s just a game, and Scarab is very warrior’s-honor-brained, so Nyxie is the one who feels the most devastated about it.

You can imagine what would happen if Scarab ever lost his horse.

Speaking of death, Scarab has died plenty of times and had to take a walk through the cube before he broke the controller for the fifth time. No one can blame him, though, cause Nyxie has had to do the same when she’s at her limit. One doesn’t think before doing, and the other keeps forgetting he’s too big for his britches in terms of knowledge and fighting. In real life? Yes, he’s very intelligent and very well versed in taking others down in combat. In Minecraft? Literally he’s so screwed without Prismo to help.

He got hit by The Warden ONCE and immediately noped out. We tried to warm him, and he didn’t listen.

“WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME” “WE LITERALLY DID, YOU DUMBASS”

Scarab probably builds a mob farm with Prismo while Nyxie is like a little walking backpack down below cause she doesn’t know how it works.

Don’t worry, once he gets the hang of it, he’s a pro gamer. Not as good as Prismo, of course, but still (/j).

If i think of more i’ll probably rb this and add more or edit the post directly.

[bonefall]

Reply roundup: Maples, Flowerscar, Educators

Inbox still closed (I have sooo many asks) but here's a few quick answers to the replies✨

"Who was educator before Ferncloud? Who's the educator in other Clans?" @halogenwarrior

Dappletail was the Educator before Ferncloud! There's a tiny note in the upcoming outline for Firestar's Quietus where she decides to pass the torch to Fern before her death in TNP proper.

In other Clans, I simply haven't chosen the educator. WindClan and ShadowClan are still pending their Family Tree overhauls before I can comfortably pick one, but something about RiverClan is telling me they had strokes of pretty bad luck with theirs.

I think Lilystem (Shade and Heavy's mother) was one once, but the mentor/apprentice line was probably broken by TigerClan and Mistystar had to choose a new one in TNP. So if there's a background blorbo everyone's got who would make a good teacher feel free to shout them out.

(Re: Can't be Sedgecreek because she becomes deputy <3)

Mosspelt seems like a good choice.

"Are there maples in England?" @ashestosparks

Three! I'm only using two of them.

The only native maple is the Field Maple (Acer campestre), which is a pretty interesting tree in general. This is the one that produces edible sap that ThunderClan will want to trade for, and it has a unique quirk; it HATES forests.

It's so named because it likes being in open field environments. As a forest progresses outward, the population of field maples will also dance on the outskirts, attempting to avoid shady conditions. They like to stand as the lone tree in hilly plains, where the wind can scatter their samaras far and wide. So, only WindClan has access to these.

There's also the introduced Norway Maple (Acer platanoides) and Sycamore Maple (Acer pseudoplatanus). A Sycamore Maple is relevant as the tree that produces the tarspot-blighted leaves that Fireheart uses to channel Spottedleaf, but I won't be including Norways at all. Sycamores are also absent from the Lake Territories.

In Clanmew the word for "Sycamore" is not the word for "Maple." Clan cats don't see these as the same tree.

(Mapleshade's name is kind of a mistranslation, but Sycamoreshade would be pretty long in English. Maplewhisker/star of SkyClan would also be a Sycamore.)

"Do humans notice ShadowClan's project?"

Yes! Stay tuned!

"Who is Flowerscar?"

A background cat in ShadowClan I have become unreasonably attached to

Her canon name is "Flowerstem" and I wanted to conflict rename her so I could get some more cats with honor titles. ShadowClan is kind of low on non-Tigerkin prodigal fighters, so I've decided to beef her up from just being a background cat into a recurring strong brawler.

She's pure silver with a big, gnarly scar across her face and down her shoulder from where Bramblefake lands a nasty slash on her.

ShadowClan's family tree is so bad that I will be throwing it out completely, so it remains to be seen if she's going to remain the daughter of Grassheart and Stonewing, or even if Whorlpelt and Snaketooth are going to stay as her siblings.

"How do the cats enter the afterlife in BB!TBC and what are the rules?"

The sisters are still going to get a feature here, using their collective powers. They don't do it for the Clans, though, they do it because they understand very well that there is an evil god being born and he must die.

It is also in memory of Leafpool, a stranger who still died for them because it was the right thing to do.

Fallenleaf is also going to come off the bus for a moment to lend her strength to this massive channeling. They have just enough juice to send 2 cats from each Clan.

"Is Larkstripe in the Dark Forest?" @thesnailphilosopher

Sadly no. StarClan took pity on her and her courage in this instance. After the code change, they're much harsher on Clerics, but Larkstripe had lost everything in pursuit of saving 1/5th of StarClan.

If they had known she wouldn't be the last to push this issue, and that there would be a bloody rebellion a few years later, they would have been much angrier and sent her to the Dark Forest. But at the time, they decided to end this sad situation quietly.

She was one of the few to vote in favor of allowing Ripplestar into StarClan.

[apompkwrites]

reader impact || first meeting: archon edition

series masterlist characters: venti, zhongli genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: i still don't know if this will be a series but last post would've been too long if i had all four in one

venti's playthrough -

hoo boy, venti's streams would be VERY chaotic.

this boy has nothing to tie him down except for his own mortality, but will that stop him? no.

lots of late night or early morning streams because his sleep schedule is practically nonexistent.

he does a lot of singing or storytelling streams, which is why the time is perfect.

he'll sing lullabies and read bedtime stories at night. in the morning, he'll sing soft songs to wake up his viewers and talk about the rare dreams he'd have once he passes out.

he'll also have drinking streams where he just drinks as much as he can. he's a drunkard, what can i say?

anyway, gaming is something he isn't opposed to, but mainly ones with music or just pure crackhead energy.

when his viewers suggest genshin impact, he'd be somewhat hesitant?

he needs games that are chaotic and filled with energy to keep his attention.

his mods and viewers, however, are able to convince him because of a certain drunken character.

as soon as he sees the non-spoiled description of your character, he's off to download.

he actually enjoys a lot of the adventure aspects of the game, even if he's known as a lazy streamer.

anyway, his viewers definitely should have warned him about your appearance.

they never told him you were such a cute character!

"don't be afraid. it's alright now, i'm back."

"HASGDGSJFK"

he shrieked when you started talking.

"HOW ARE THEY SO CUTE?!?!"

he gets sad when his character sets off dvalin...

you disappear and your dragon friend flies off... now venti's just sad he might've made you upset.

he's pouting the whole way through mondstadt, thinking of ways to make it up to you.

he doesn't care if you're a video game character, he loves you nonetheless.

and once dvalin shows up in mondstadt, he's genuinely excited. he knows your bound to appear again because your friend is here.

when you help venti fly behind dvalin, his chat is teasing him because of the grin on his face.

he's so soft for you, man...

he will spend hours just ranting about you when he's going through the domains with the standard characters.

when he finds the other statues in mondstadt, he likes to climb up it to admire your archon design.

even though he's known you for a few minutes, he will automatically recognize your face in the game.

he knows it's annoying but he can't help but ask his chat if he'll get to see you again soon. he really doesn't want to spend hours without hearing you and seeing you in game.

he likes to yell at paimon whenever she makes fun of you

he shrieks again when he sees you running past the fountain.

he almost cries when he sees you playing your lyre for the first time.

you're perfect in his eyes and all he wants is to spend every minute of this game with you.

although, he did have to take a break the first time he saw your archon form illustrated.

you just... look like an angel and his body can't handle that.

he loves listening to your tales. like the battle pass story that occurs every time it renews, he never skips it. soon, he'll memorize it and recite it with you once it appears.

"oh! i remember you two. you both scared dvalin away!"

"I'M SORRY"

please forgive him. he knows you won't because the game doesn't require it, but he decides to always call stormterror dvalin to make up for it.

"ah, right! i haven't introduced myself... i'm (name) the bard!"

please this boy is so smitten for a video game character.

when you're revealed to be the archon, he's not too surprised? i mean, he already recognized you from the statue.

he is so excited to steal the lyre for you.

it takes him a bit, though, just because he has a bad attention span and ends up revealing his location.

he's even more excited to learn you're a regular at diluc's tavern.

he would do anything to drink with you.

he'll reluctantly end the game there just because it's time for his bedtime songs/stories.

"i'll be back tomorrow, (name), my love! i promise!"

zhongli's playthrough -

zhongli's a really good streamer even when he doesn't try to be.

he is basically the king of just chatting streams.

daily tea times and storytime streams are a go!

his voice is what lures them in and his charm is what traps them there.

he's still poor, though...

he relies on the donations from his viewers but he always expresses his gratitude.

man's respectful, what can i say?

anyway, he does play games every now and then. he doesn't tend to enjoy fighting games though.

although, he's rather good at them... for some reason.

his gaming streams tend to be a lot longer because he picks games with an overarching story.

i'm talking long games like night in the woods, detroit: become human, really any long game with deep meanings and stories.

his viewers will pay for him to just sit there and read to them.

anyway, someone donates to him and recommends he play genshin impact because of the long story and hidden lore.

he definitely enjoyed the beginning of the story, but got even more attached once he reached liyue.

he seems very intrigued when he begins the quest by watching liyue's archon fall dead on the ground.

he would definitely go on a long rant about gods and goddesses that have fallen.

when he meets childe, he does take a liking to him.

now, this man is known for being stoic and serious, so it comes as a surprise when he almost loses his composure when you appear.

keyword being almost.

he manages to stay composed but his chat knows for a fact he's freaking out over you.

your fancy suit/dress reminds him of the anthropological tales of gods/goddesses and kings/queens.

let this man drink tea with you please--

"it is an honor to meet you. i have heard tell of you from mondstadt."

"... they have quite the pleasant voice."

his chat is going wild at this point.

they get to listen to two heavenly voices talk to each other at the same time?! it's a dream come true!

another man that will let your long lines of dialogue play, listening intently to the stories you tell his character.

he actually really likes the image of his character talking to you.

he's so short compared to you--

he also really likes your animation when you're standing still.

not your idle animations, even though those are really nice as well. i'm talking about the movement of your clothes when your character is standing there. it's just so... soothing to him.

the gradient of your hair color to your elemental gnosis is also a nice detail to him. he likes how there are subtle ways archons look compared to normal citizens in teyvat.

when he finds out you are also a person who struggles with money... oh boy, this man cannot relate more.

you both can be broke together.

he will look to his chat for help every time a bargaining option occurs.

similar to venti, he'd be able to tell you were an archon automatically, mainly because of the way you carry yourself and your design.

when you give away your gnosis, he was really interested in the fact that you were so dedicated to your title of the archon of contracts that you would just willingly give your gnosis away.

when he meets the adepti, his chat jokingly says that the yaksha is yours and his adopted child.

"... i would not be opposed to that idea."

all of the artists and writers in his chat are dying at this point.

he'd look up all of the lore, especially ones involving you, and use them for his storytime streams.

[toh-tagteam-au]

*inhales bc your AU is everything I didn't know I needed and more*

OKAY BUT, couple of questions and thoughts there:

Do Luz and Hunter have teasy nicknames for each other? (maybe something like "Luzer" and "Hunty Duncey"?)

Is Amity able to bond with Luz more easily here? From your Insta, seems Luz's in a love triangle with her maskless self and her masked persona with Amity. And at least, Luz could certainly relate to having annoying older siblings?

I just pictured the scene of Hunter pulling the curtain on King in "Separate Tides" and just imagined if Luz was with him with her mask on, asking if they can't keep the little guy around instead of throwing him into the boiling waters

How is Lilith dealing with not one but TWO protégés of the Emperor?

Is Luz still into Azura stuff? Is Hunter into it as well? Does Luz have a theory board in her room she invites henchmen in to share headcanons and make fandom material when Hunter doesn't want to?

You think Luz ever feels insecure about being the only member of her "family" with round ears?

oh my gosh that’s a lot of questions im so honored!!! I’m glad you like my stuff! I’ll try to answer all of these as best as I can.

1) They don’t use teasing nicknames super often – Their sibling banter is more bickering/targeted insults than nicknames. However, they avoid saying their real names around anyone other than Belos and MAYBE Kikimora to keep up the mystery around their positions. They use titles like “Partner” or “Sister/Brother”. Otherwise, they stick with their usual names (in private), although if Luz wants something from Hunter she’ll get creative, like in canon when she asked Gus for his library card in Looking Glass Ruins.

Also “Hunty Duncey” one shot me the second I read it. She WOULD call him that. It’s probably an inside joke. 

2) Luz and Amity’s relationship is a more “casual flirting in a professional setting” situation, and both of them have fun with it bc there’s no strings attached to the interactions (Luz wants to be friends with the talented pretty girl, Amity is flustered bc Luz doesn’t interact with a lot of people her age and has no ruling for how many compliments are too much). A friend of mine and I actually talked about how Amity’s parents would react to the “beneficial pairing” of setting up their kid with the Emperor’s Personal Guard, so that has an affect on how they interact later on. 

For the record though: some of the stuff on my instagram so far save for the actual comic posts is,,, VERY early development and subject to change (as I’m finding out as I script farther and farther). So idk how Lumity will evolve as I write, or if the identity love triangle will even be a thing (as much as I want it to). Disclaimer!

3) Oh there’s a scene coming up with Luz and King in the same room and I GUARANTEE you that Luz is struggling to withhold her cooing the WHOLE time. Luz’s love for King encompasses all universes.

4) Lilith is definitely not having a great time lol. Especially since Luz makes Hunter a bit more laid back (re: chaotic) and independent than in canon. She is in hell.

5) Only Luz is into Azura stuff! It’s one of the things she bonds with Amity over at first. It’s important to note that her creation of fandom material is heavily restricted and limited (there have been... incidents). Hunter lets her infodump to him partially to get her creative energy out/reduce the chances of more incidents happening. Otherwise he hasn’t read any of them.

6) YES she is ABSOLUTELY insecure about being human. There’s a WHOLE theme with Belos and how he is “proud” that she steps away from her human upbringing to become stronger (ie: a witch). And she knows everyone in the coven would look down on her if her ears were ever revealed to anyone who didn’t know. Growing up in a place where Human/unable to do magic = Weak doesn’t do great things for self esteem. 

[infintasmal]

IT'S ALMOST AMUSING, that they think the sweltering heat would be enough to stop her sword. She who will cut down a star. But maybe it's not her sword they fear, it's the body that wields it, something she has long since stopped feeling attached to. In that way, perhaps, it is a fitting punishment. Jingliu has always been uncomfortable in the heat, mind flashing back to world ending fires, flesh melting to bone, the acrid smell of char searing over her, red and orange then blue and white the hotter it gets, then gold shimmering from the bodies, reaching toward the heavens--

Yes, the heat works just fine to keep her unsettled. In an abundance of caution, they've encased her hands, linked to her chains. For now, this cell is temporary. Once they've reached their verdict and ceased all interrogation, she will surely be moved to her final resting place. Something far worse than just heat. She can't wait.

While he speaks, Jingliu's attention remains toward the wall, as if gazing out a window. She's heard inklings of Dan Heng's early fate, he should hate this place, should hate her. It must be important for him to venture so far from the skies. How interesting...

"Have I...?" she tries to think through names and faces, identities a blur. There's one conclusion, a curious development. "The Dragon Lady, then. So, you've given her your title rather than attempt to reclaim it. Though the stain of it remains, I'm sure," her voice is far away, as if considering things from afar. But there's a certain softness at the mention of Bailu. "I thought it would be your desire to forget the past not delve into it further. I suppose I should be honored... that you would share such news with me. I am only sorry our meeting place could not be more... hospitable," the smile she gives is hollow and tired, like she's forgotten how. "Tell me what you have learned, if you feel so strongly. Though I feel it only fair to warn you; the past is a poison to one who has lived as long as I. I do not know what sort of reaction you hope to gain from me, but know that just because I am without my sword, does not mean you are safe in my presence. That is... it will not hurt my feelings should you choose to turn back." she's not sure if she's warning him for his sake or hers nor which of them should be afraid. Does he fear her more than she fears herself? Is that what this emotion is? Regardless, she sits quietly, perfectly still, how funny, that he should be the storyteller this time...

Since Preceptor Taoran had been taken into custody, many truths had been extracted from him like bleeding water from a stone. He was and wasn't eager to speak, revealing only that which had already been put into motion recently or long ago. The inviolable, that which couldn't be taken back. But, that's where he was wrong, wasn't he? That former head of the Alchemy Commission, Yunhua, had made a dire mistake in bringing his memories of his past life to the fore in some warped attempt to make Dan Feng resurface in him like another facet to become the dominant personality. He remembered things he probably shouldn't have; things that jeopardized the tale of the sinner that had been shoved down the throat of the annals of history without a smidgen of challenge.

The Shackling Prison was as desolate as it had been the last time he was there, but instead of the coldest reaches of a glacial tundra, the sweltering heat of an unbearably hot, tropical forest was the temperature that contained the warrior goddess of frost and ice. The Cloud Knights that had brought him there gave him a wide berth and allowed him to proceed far from earshot. It was obvious that he was more than capable of fending for himself, but that was the last thing that concerned him. What remained paramount was what he had to say and what Jingliu had to know, among those that had been lied to the most.

The soft clinking of chains was damnably familiar, eliciting a brief tensing of his muscles until it dissipated again, and his focus returned. This was a wretched state for her to be in, for him to find her, especially when one considered how they'd met and spent a civil day together almost a year ago.

"Imbibator Lunae is my daughter's title. You've met, in case you forgot," Dan Heng informed the woman, but not unkindly. "I'm here to talk, Jingliu. A lot has changed since we last met; I've learned more about the past. And I think... you have every reason to be interested. It's why I'm here."

[1016anon]

Title: So This Is Love Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma Summary: Sticky and sweet.

A/N -- Food kink.

Please note: it is never my intent to kink-shame. In this drabble series, Anthony and Kate are exploring and having fun; not everything is going to be to their tastes.

- 2 -

"Anthony, what is that."

"Chocolate syrup."

"I can see that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Fine, let me rephrase: why are you naked and holding chocolate syrup whilst looking like the world's worst advert for ergonomic mattresses?"

"World's sexiest advert, I should think."

"I am not licking chocolate sauce off your dick."

"That's fine, darling, because I will be doing all the licking."

"Anthony, we just bought this duvet."

"We'll buy another one."

"I like these sheets!"

"Is it just me, or do you not want to have sex?"

"I want to have sex!"

"Then what exactly is the problem?"

"I don't want to have to throw out our duvet and sheets because we can't get the stains out."

"The romance in our relationship is gone."

"You are the one who complains when Newton gets dog hair on the sofa."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"We should watch porn."

"Porn.  You want to watch porn to see how to lick chocolate syrup off one's partner's body."

"I want to see the set."

"Let's just–"

"Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen, where bloody else would I go?"

"No, I think I've seen people put a plastic sheet on the surface."

"Kate."

"Maybe if we cut a garbage bag."

"Kate."

"It should be called safe, sane, sanitary and consensual."

"I think the 'sanitary' is implied in 'safe' and–"

"Anthony!"

"Take your clothes off, lie down on these lovely sheets, and let me lick chocolate off your nipples, is that so difficult?"

Kate narrowed her eyes at him and began taking her shirt off very slowly.  Normally Anthony would appreciate a strip tease, but he was, quite frankly, frustrated, aroused, annoyed.  All for some chocolate syrup.

It almost wasn't worth the effort, but now that he'd spent so much time convincing Kate to let him have the dessert he deserved after a long day at the office, he was in it to win it.  Kate was going to let him lick every inch of her, she was going to enjoy it, and she was going to beg.  She had thrown down the gauntlet; his honor was at stake.

Which was why he pounced whilst her back was turned, carefully hanging up her trousers in the closet and taking off her bra. 

Anthony manhandled her to the bed and he tightened his grip when she began struggling; he'd decided he required some assistance from the cuffs and spreader bar.

"Green?"

"I hate you."

"That's not what I asked."

"Green, and I still hate you."

"You can hate me while I'm making you come," he replied as he cuffed her and raised her hands above her head, attaching them to the convenient chain installed above the foot of their bed.

Anthony had initially planned on having her kneel in the middle of the bed, then decided he didn't want to deal with her glaring at him for accidentally getting a drop of syrup on the sheets.

The things he did for her.  It could only be love.

"I don't want the spreader bar."

"Your complaint has been duly noted and ignored."

"Anthony, I can keep my legs spread."

"I'm glad to hear it," he adjusted the bar to the desired width and moved her legs.

She sighed as though this was the most onerous task in the world.

Lastly, because he did love her and did not want to die post coitus, he braided her hair and secured it in a bun.

"Color?" he asked, chocolate syrup in hand.

"Green."

"Good."

"You had better not use the syrup as lube, Anthony."

"It was one time."

"You didn't have to deal with a UTI!"

"I had to deal with you, which was just as bad, if not worse."

He looked at her, concerned.

"Darling, we don't have to try food kink."

"Anthony, if you don't start making good on your promises to lick chocolate off my nipples, I'm going to scream."

"Oh, been thinking about that, have we?"

"Patron Saint of Sexual Frustration."

"Patron Saint of Sexual Revelation.  Color?"

Her expression softened.

"Green.  Truly, Anthony, green."

"I'll have to punish you for being a brat."

"Only if you win tonight."

"Kate, I always play to win."

"Then you better make it good."

Anthony was fairly certain they would not engage in food kink often, given the actual fussiness it brought out in Kate.  Nevertheless, he was determined to make it good because he was going to Win At Sex tonight.

-later-

"I'm sticky."

"I'm thirsty.  The syrup was too sweet."

"I don't think you were meant to drizzle it all over me."

Anthony nodded, then made a face.

"We're not doing that again," she said, crossing it off their list.

"We might like other types of food play."

"Yes, Anthony, truly, I'm so very excited by the thought of fucking you with a carrot while I have a cucumber dildo up my ass, then after we've both come, I'll finish it all by pouring balsamic vinaigrette on your abs and feed us tidbits of our anal salad."

"Anal salad?!?!  How do you even think of these things?!"

"Admit defeat."

"Yes!  I could have gone my entire life without the image you provided."

"Be thankful I didn't add lettuce somewhere in there.  You'd never be able to look at a salad again."

"What would– no don't answer that.  I don't need to know."

[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens in Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 1

Word Count: 4,885

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Smut, Drinking (all the good stuff)

Notes: Well here it is the new fic that’s been in my head. I tossed around a couple different guys for this, but some of you suggested Marky and well looks like it stuck. Trying to do this a little different and keep this in an all read POV, so we shall see how that works. I don’t see this being super long maybe between 5 or 6 parts. Hope you guys enjoy. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps but whoever 'they' is, well, they got it wrong. It has to be Vegas. Lights are always flashing whether you were indoors or out, the jangly sound of slot machines can be heard at all hours and the seven deadly sins seem to be on full display twenty-four hours a day. It's no wonder their tagline for years was 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.' If only that were true.

You wish you could blame someone else but you can't. Vegas was all your idea. As maid of honor, it fell to you to plan your best friend's bachelorette party, and in your mind, there was only one spot, Vegas. Now, you were second-guessing your choice as your head was pounding like there were a thousand drummers who decided to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show, only in your brain. There was only one thought that made it through the marching band playing in your head. What the hell happened last night?

 Maybe you should start off small, like where were you first, considering that the little drummer boy was now doing backflips in your head. You were definitely in bed, which was evident as you could feel the mattress underneath you. You could also feel the duvet comforter covering your body, but there was something else. Something a bit heavier, almost as if a weighted blanket was covering your stomach and your breast, but it wasn't that. It was an arm slung across your midsection and a very large hand cupping your one boob. God, you hoped it was still attached to a body. You should really take a peek. It would be the only decent thing to do.

 As you gradually lifted one eyelid open, the first thing you noticed was that you were not in your hotel room, as the wall looked completely different. No reason to panic, you told yourself. Everything would come back to you as soon as this god blessed pounding ceased. Peering the other eye open, you got back to business at seeing if there was a body attached to the arm currently trapping you to the bed. Carefully, you turned your head to the side to see a very large and very naked man firmly attached to the aforementioned arm. He was gorgeous as he lay there sleeping ever so peacefully. You drank in his features, kind of like you downed drink after drink last night. His brown hair had this golden hue to it that made your fingers want to reach out and touch it, though you refrained. Then there was the beard covering his face, not too much and not too little, and now that you were thinking about it; you definitely felt some of that beard burn on your thighs. If you could only remember last night. The only logical thing to do was to go back to the start of this, back to a time when you were sober.

 It started months ago when your best friend Kennedy got engaged. You honestly didn't see it coming that fast. She'd only been dating Ryan for a little less than a year, but he asked and she said yes, and when she asked you to be her maid of honor you screamed and laughed and cried, and told her you couldn't wait to plan her bachelorette party. Everyone knew the bridal shower was only for boring stuffy old aunts so that they could buy her the latest air fryer or new dish pattern. The bachelorette party was where all the fun was, and what better place to have it than Las Vegas.

 Of course, everyone agreed with you. The only wrench in the plan was that Kennedy decided to up her wedding date and make it a nine-month engagement. That barely left time to find a dress let alone plan the most outrageous bachelorette party of the century. You would've said decade but twenty-twenty was fastly approaching. Thankfully, you had connections. Night one was more sedate since you all were just arriving at the MGM hotel at different times; eleven of you in total when Ryan's sister decided to join at the last minute. You booked a private room at Lago in the Bellagio for all of you to enjoy.

 It was the second night, that was the piece de resistance. A limo picked you all up and took you over to Excalibur to see the legendary Australian group, Thunder from Down Under. I mean what was Vegas without seeing a male stripper or two. The next day, a private bungalow was waiting for you at Wet Republic in the MGM Hotel. One would've thought the night watching men strip naked would've been your undoing but apparently, it all started poolside.

 "I seriously can't believe he pulled you up on stage and proceeded to dry hump you up there," Kelsey rehashed.

 "Really, Kels?" Kennedy said downing another mimosa. "How could you not see that happening? (Y/N) has known Nate for a couple years. I mean he did get us front row tickets." This was all true. Nate, the emcee for Thunder from Down Under and you were friends, had been since your firm had done their calendar shoot two years ago. He had generously given you prime seating to the show that night and also set you up with a few other perks for the trip. "The only thing I'm surprised at, is that this one," she bumped you with her hip, spilling both hers and your mimosas. "Didn't end up going home with him last night."

 "Oh my god, Kenny you did not just say that." She may be the bride and your best friend but really, she was pushing the line.

 "Come on, it's not like it hasn't happened before."

 At least four pairs of eyes turned towards you, Ryan's sister Gretchen being one of them. "Ok, admittedly, I slept with him, once." Both Kennedy and Kelsey gave you that look. "Ok, maybe it was twice, but he has a girlfriend now, and we are just friends."

 "I'll give you that," Jade spoke up in your defense and suddenly she was going to earn the title of new best friend, not that the lines weren't blurred in your little group as you were all sort of best friends. "But what about Edward, the one with the turtle tattoo on his hip."

 "You were so looking at more than his hip." Eva teased while Jade simply hid behind her champagne glass. "But yeah (Y/N), he was totally hitting on you."

 "He was not."

 "Oh, he was," Kennedy added her two cents. "And as the bride I take offense, they should've been hitting on me."

 "Wait, why would they hit on you?" Jade sputtered. "You're taken bitch." Of course, bitch was said in the most loving way.

 "I'm not dead."

 "No, but I'm sure my brother wouldn't appreciate it." Leave it to Gretchen to be the mood killer. "I think I'm going to go take a nap. I'll meet you at the pool later."

 She headed out the door, and honestly, you were ecstatic about it, for she was too judgmental for your liking.  "Wait, Gretch, that's not what I meant."

 "Leave her go, maybe a nap would do her good." They were Jade's words but your sentiments. "Now back to why (Y/N) did not take that beautiful man up on his offer last night."

 "There was no offer," you insisted.

 "Come on (Y/N), there was an offer. There's always an offer. Remember when you were doing promo for that Batman flick." You tried to shut Kennedy up with a death glare, but she continued to prattle on. "We all know you ended up doing the nasty with Superman."

 "WHAT?!?!" Yeah, that definitely came out of the other nine people's mouths in the room.

 "Thanks, Ken. No one knew that but you."

 "Oops, my bad." She had the grace to at least be embarrassed about the whole thing.

 "You mean you slept with that guy, the British one, tall, all muscular, extremely good looking. Damn it what's his name." You could see Eva wracking her brain for his name and you just didn't want to go there.

 "Hen…"

 "Yes, him," you admitted, stopping Jade before she could finish his name. "Can we please change the subject?"

 "Why, when we are all living vicariously through you," Kelsey added. "Especially poor Kennedy, who is now committed to spending the rest of her life with one man."

 "Geez, you make it sound like a death sentence. I love Ryan and I'm perfectly fine spending the rest of my days with him."

 You had to suppress an eye roll. Not because you didn't think that Ryan and Kennedy weren't in love. If you were being honest, you just thought they were rushing things a bit. The problem was telling your best friend that; you tried in the past and never succeeded. "We know you're in love Kenny." And then because you couldn't stop yourself, you added. "It's just are you sure you want to be tied down so young? We still have our whole life to live."

 "Jesus, (Y/N). We all know you're not ready for marriage and what comes with it, but we can't all be you with your fancy job in LA, meeting celebrities all the time. Some of us have real lives and want to settle down and have a family."

 "Kenny, that's not what I meant." The last thing you wanted to do was argue with her at her bachelorette party. "I only want you to be happy."

 "You have a funny way of showing it." The air in the room took on a chill and not from the air conditioning. If you didn't do something soon this party was going to go downhill.

 "Oh, would you look at the time," Jade chimed in. "We should probably be heading down to the pool." Everyone grabbed their stuff, Kennedy giving you the cold shoulder as you made your way out of the hotel suite. Jade came up and wrapped an arm around you. "She'll be fine. She's just on edge after the whole Gretchen thing. We'll give her a few shots and you two will be good as new."

 "I hope so." Unfortunately, things weren't fine. Kennedy seemed to avoid you and your attempt to make things right, even after a few shots. That didn't stop you from taking a few more. You had a strict one drink to one water rule, that you threw out the door today. Downing shots like it was your job. It was probably an hour later when you were in one of the private pools, with a few of the girls that a large group of very attractive men walked in. They were definitely different from Nate and the guys from Thunder, and at first, you thought it was some fraternity get together with how young some of them looked, but at second glance there were some gentlemen that were your age or older.

 "They've gotta be baseball players," Eva whispered over after they took up residence in the three bungalows next to you.

 "Nah, none of them have a dad bod." Jade was right, they were too fit to be in the MLB. You'd been around enough major leaguers to know while some were incredibly in shape, some were not. That didn't seem to be the case with this group.

 "I'm gonna rule out NFL as well," you told the girls. "None of these guys look like they're an offensive guard. Those guys are huge." You noticed a few of them staring at the six of you that were in the smaller pool reserved only for the bungalows. Grabbing another shot, this had to be your fourth in just sixty minutes, you downed the drink really starting to feel its effects.

 "Looks like we may just find out here," Jade said, nodding to let you know some of the guys were headed your way.

 "Ladies, care if we join you?" One of the men asked, you had to admit he was extremely handsome but also gave off an air that he had more than a few notches in his bedpost.

 A couple of the girls nodded, but when no one said anything, you found yourself saying, "Come on in."

 "So, what brings you to Vegas?" This from a different guy, who had quite a number of tattoos covering his arms, and you had to admit that the ink just made him more attractive, that and his height. He was well over six feet tall and you didn't mind looking up to see his face as he took the seat next to you.

 "Bachelorette party," Jade blurted out and you saw a few eyebrows raise.

 "Tell me you're not the bride?" His breath was warm or maybe it was the sun, either way, you definitely felt a warmth in your belly that wasn't there moments ago.

 "I am definitely not the bride." Shit that sounded desperate. "Though I am the maid of honor, at least I hope I still am." You looked inside the bungalow to see Kennedy in deep conversation with Gretchen.

 "Hmm, sounds like there's a story there. Care to tell me? I'm Jacob by the way, though the guys call me Marky."

 He held out his hand, the one that didn't have a beer in it, and you took it. "(Y/N), and I'll tell you though it's rather dull, on one condition." He quirked a brow at you. "You tell me what sport you play."

 He chuckled. "What makes you think I play a sport? Maybe I'm an investment banker."

 "Well, first there's your accent, though I suppose you could pull off investment banker with that. Second, you are all…how shall I say this…physically fit. A quality most athletes have and considering the number of you; I doubt this is some kind of investment banker convention."

 "Ok, I'll give you that, though we could be bodybuilders or…" the lights on the billboard on the strip changed to a Thunder From Down Under ad and you saw a light bulb in his head go off. "Or male strippers." Shit, you almost spit your drink out on that one. "What, too much a stretch? Maybe it's your lucky day." He started to sway his hips in the pool, one of his friends joining him while you and Jade tried to contain your laughter.

 "Nah, it's already been (Y/N)'s lucky day with them. She knows them all rather intimately."

 "Jade!" you yelled at your friend, or ex-friend, though you weren't in a position to be losing anymore at the moment.

 "Oops." She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Alcohol made everyone do some crazy things and Jade was no exception to the rule.

 "Intimately huh?" Jacob asked as you splashed water on Jade causing her to shriek and hide behind Jacob's friend who you learned was someone named Erik. "Have I lost the competition before it even starts?"

 "There's no competition."

 "So, you're single then?"

 "Yes, though you still haven't answered my question." As soon as Jacob heard you say yes, he slid a little closer to you.

 "What was that question again?" He said with laughter in his eyes and before you could get annoyed with him, though you doubted that would happen, he added. "I remember, just giving you a hard time. Anyhow, we play hockey."

 "Oh, nice. Like professional level? Or are there minors in that sport?" You really weren't one hundred percent sure. You'd taken in a game here and there but not really paid any particular attention to it.

 "We're in the NHL, playing for Vancouver. Just came out to do a little team bonding before the season starts. So, are we going to talk about this intimate encounter or why you think your maid of honor duties are getting revoked?"

 "I think I need another drink to talk about either of them."

 Jacob flagged down one of the personal waitresses for the area, requesting a couple of shots and drinks for you both, and you had to admit you liked the way he worked. "Now that that's taken care of…"

 You blew out a frustrated breath, more with yourself than anything else. "I said something stupid right before we came down here." He kept silent, his eyes totally focused on you and what you were saying. A refreshing change from some of the men you spoke to. "I just think she's rushing into things. They've only known each other a year and we are too young to get married. She's only twenty-five, we have our whole lives ahead of us. You know?" He simply nodded his agreement before you continued. "I want to see the world, go places, and do things before I'm strapped down to one man forever. Not to mention being tied down with kids. How can Kenny not want that too?"

 "I totally agree. I've gotten to see a lot with hockey but there's no way I want to be tied down just yet."

 "Exactly, you totally get me." Your drinks arrived then and Jacob took one shot and handed it to you before taking the other.

 "Well, I say we toast to being young and free with no commitments."

 "I'll drink to that." He clinked his glass to yours and the two of you downed the drinks. It seemed like the DJ noticed the change in your mood, as the music got louder and the energy seemed to kick up a notch. You got up and started to dance in the pool; the other girls joining in. It wasn't long before you felt Jacob behind you. His hips grinding into your backside, as his large hands encircled your waist.

 Drinks flowed freely the entire day, and if you were being honest, you couldn't remember a time you'd been that drunk before the sun had even set. You were laughing and dancing, and quite literally having the time of your life; your maid of honor duties completely forgotten at this point. Gretchen came up to you at some point and told you that she, Kennedy, and Kelsey were heading up and would catch up with the rest of you later. Everyone else was having too much fun with the Canucks to want to leave.

 A few more drinks and an hour later, the party was winding down. Most of your friends had headed up to their room to pass out, only a few stayed behind. Jacob had somehow maneuvered you into one of the bungalows that was empty. You shared a few kisses here and there out in the pool area, but now that you were out of view of prying eyes things were getting a bit more heated. Jacob's hands were on your ass, as his tongue was down your throat; not that yours wasn't doing the same thing to him. He moaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core. Your bikini bottom was no longer wet from the water of the pool, but the press of Jacob's cock against it.

 You both stumbled back, landing down on the large daybed in the bungalow, though somehow Jacob's reflexes softened your fall. His hands went straight to your breasts, kneading the flesh there. He was just about to untie the string of your bikini top when someone walked in. "Jesus, Marky! Take it upstairs would you!" You squinted trying to make out who it was but at this point not remembering anyone's name besides the man that was on top of you.

 "Oh, shit…thought I was in my room." It was funny, you thought the same thing. "Sorry, Jay."

 "His name is Jay? Like the letter?" you mumbled as Jacob helped you off the couch. "What comes after J?" Fuck you were drunk and when you were drunk you tended to ramble. You once actually talked to a damn parking meter because you thought it was a person, and you were pretty sure you could talk to one now if there was one around.

 "Doesn't matter, babe," Jacob said kissing your lips. "Wanna head up to my room?"

 You had to go up on your tiptoes to loop your arms around his neck. "Yes, I do." He planted a kiss on your lips then cupped your ass cheeks causing you to jump a bit.

 "Let's go," he finally said breaking the kiss. You had enough sense to grab your things and tell your friends not to worry that you'd catch up with them tomorrow. They all winked and nodded or at least that's what it looked like in your head because that's when things started to get hazy. You had vague recollections of making your way through the casino, stopping here and there. Part of you thought that the two of you even stopped to play roulette only so you could have another drink.

 You did remember tumbling through the door of Jacob's suite. His lips were on yours and neither of you were paying attention as he unlocked it. Thankfully his quick reflexes caught you; apparently, even when drunk, goalies couldn't lose some of those natural instincts.

 His hands, you remember them being everywhere on your body, and how incredible they made you feel. His calloused touch lit a fire inside you, that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He rid you of your white swim cover-up easily, flinging the garment across the room, and then his lips were all over your body. It was easy to recall the way he made you feel, as he softly bit down on your nipple through the fabric of your bikini. You'd craved this all afternoon. It had been a couple months since you'd been with a man and Jacob was everything you'd been waiting for.

 You ripped off his shirt. Your hands immediately going to his chest and roaming down his tattooed arms. He was all muscle, hard and lean everywhere, but when you slid your hand down inside his swim trunks to his cock; oh, it was hard all right, but lean was not a word you'd used to describe it. You were barely able to wrap your fingers around his girth, and as you stroked him, you realized God had not only blessed him with height but length as well. The man was made to star in a porno, you thought as you shoved his trunks down.

 Somehow, during that time Jacob had managed to get your bikini top off, though you supposed with its simple string ties it wasn't a hard feat to manage. You dropped to your knees, licking your lips before taking your tongue and swirling it around the head of Jacob's cock. "Det kanns sa bra min vackra prinsessa (that feels so good my beautiful princess)." Jacob's mumblings had you pulling back and looking up at him. "Don't stop, baby." This time you knew what he said as you slowly sucked him into your mouth. There was no way that you could take him all in, so you pumped the rest of him with your fist. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked him inside, using every trick in the book you knew. Jacob muttered more in Swedish to you, things you had no clue as to what they meant, but judging by his reaction they were things he was enjoying very much. He threaded his hands through your hair, pulling it back so you could look up at him with big doe eyes. "Jesus," he swore, his hips bucking into your mouth at the sight of you with his cock in it, looking like that. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out shouting," Tillrackligt, enough. I think you're trying to kill me, princess."

 There was something about the way he called you princess. It wasn't anything you'd been called before and most times you'd preferred babe or baby, but the way the word rolled off his tongue did things to your insides.

 Jacob helped you off the ground, his lips ghosting over yours before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. His large form handled you easily, arranging your body just the way he wanted to before slipping off your bikini bottoms. His large hands worked their way from your ankles to your calves, all the way up to your thighs; spreading your legs as he went. "So beautiful." He traced his fingers lightly over your pussy lips and you quivered in anticipation of what was to come. One long finger slid between your folds all the way up to your clit, once, then twice, and then once again. "So wet, prinsessa, and all because of me."

 "Mmm, yes, Jacob." He dipped that same finger inside you then. The digit slipping in easily and so he added another. Then his mouth was there. Tongue flicking over your clit in a way that made you squirm with pleasure. "Oh yes," you moaned, caught up in the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. "Just like that." Your hips lifted up on their own accord, seeking more of what this giant of a man was doing to you. Jacob never let up, making a come-hither motion with his fingers and you found yourself unraveling around him; legs shaking, breath panting as your orgasm overtook you.

 “So pretty when you cum, prinsessa.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy then brought them to your lips. You opened without any thought, licking your juices off of them. Before you could get them clean, Jacob’s mouth joined yours, kissing you while you sucked on his index and middle fingers. Your tongues mingled together, as Jacob positioned himself between your thighs. The head of his cock nudged between your folds and you sighed into his mouth at just that first touch. Slowly, he filled your pussy, until he bottomed out. Only then did he release your lips. “Fuck you feel so good.”

 Jacob loved the feel of you clenching around him. It felt like he was in heaven. Part of him didn’t even want to move that’s how good your body felt, but then you shifted your hips up just a hair bit and he had to suck in a breath at the pleasure that went straight to his groin for fear he would spend inside you right then and there. He willed his body under control and only then started to move.

 With every snap of Jacob’s hips, a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails raked down his back, probably leaving marks, but it seemed to only spur him on. “Yes, Prinsessa,” he moaned out, as you bent your knees allowing him to go deeper. You moaned as he hit that treasured spot that had you seeing stars. “You like that?” Another moan was his answer, as he continued to fuck you.

 That peculiar feeling started to wash over you. Your pussy fluttering around Jacob’s cock as the orgasm finally broke. Back arching, legs trembling, you were moaning out his name as the climax seemed to continue, as Jacob drove wildly into you. As you came down off your high, Jacob found his. With a few erratic thrusts, he was spending deep inside you with a loud groan. He slumped forward, his sweety forehead resting on yours. “Det dar var otroligt.” You looked at him curiously, your brain not working at all but also knowing he was speaking something in Swedish to you. He smiled, a glorious one that you found yourself getting lost in and you found yourself returning it. “I said that was amazing.”

 “Yes, it was,” you breathed out. Jacob rolled you both onto your sides, tucking you into his. It wasn’t long before both of you were passing out.

 Now here you were, finally putting most of the pieces together from last night. You looked back over at the sleeping man, who had given you such pleasure even in your inebriated state. He really was gorgeous. You honestly wouldn’t mind going for round two, after a couple of Tylenol, of course. Speaking of which you needed to get up and see if you had any in your bag. If only you could move him without waking him. You carefully took your right arm and went to move his left which was slung across you, but then something caught your eye. There on his ring finger was a ring. Oh, it wasn’t just any ring, it was a wedding ring! You knew he didn’t have it on when you were in the pool. You were not the type of woman to go hitting on a married man, let alone sleep with him.

 You pulled your other arm out from underneath him, fully intending to grab your stuff and get the hell out of there when you noticed a bright and shiny diamond on your ring finger. There was also a matching wedding band. Then like a tsunami hitting the beach of a small island a memory came flooding back to you of the two of you entering the hotel chapel. This man wasn’t married to just anyone, he was married to you!  

.

[honeypiehotchner]

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid one-shot)

This is wayyy overdue! It’s just been sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to edit her, but she’s finally here. This is very loosely based on Taylor Swift’s song of the same title. And it’s 100% me writing out some feelings through fanfiction, so it’s also loosely based on true events. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Spencer have been “dating” without a label for a few months now, until you witness something that has you wondering if it was too good to be true (as always).

Warnings: it’s so dramatic. Angst with a happy ending!

Spencer has no fucking clue what he did.

Well, to be more accurate, Spencer has no idea if he even did anything at all.

One second the two of you were acting as normal as ever, attached at the hip and nothing less, and the next you’re barely able to look at him. You won’t speak to him, you insist you’re fine, and you ask him to leave you alone -- please.

A new case comes and he thinks things will fall back into their rightful place. He expects you to sit with him on the plane, but you choose the farthest seat away from him. He expects you’ll be paired with him when he says he’ll go to the local station to work on victimology, but instead you agree to Morgan’s offer to look at the crime scene.

He’s desperate. He’s a so-called genius, and he’s losing his mind.

“Morgan, help me out here, man,” Spencer pleads, cornering Morgan when he’s getting a coffee. He’s just returned from the crime scene with you, but of course, you’ve ducked away from Spencer.

Derek’s eyebrows raise. Slowly, he turns around, eyeing the desperate genius. “You’re asking for my advice?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Spencer whispers, eyes cutting to you, but only for a second. He doesn’t want you to think he’s creepily staring at you all the time. So far, you haven’t caught him (that he knows of).

“Well, what did you do?” Morgan asks like the answer should be blatantly obvious.

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, let me rephrase that for you,” Morgan’s tone is bordering on teasing, but he can’t help it. The resident genius of the BAU is having trouble talking to a woman. Who knew? “Have you done anything that would lead her to believe you’re not interested in her anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Think, Reid,” Morgan replies, tipping his cup of coffee in the air. “And when you figure it out, apologize.”

He leaves without another word. Morgan joins you and Emily back in the room where the team has set up base. You share a particularly heated look with Morgan, but he shakes his head, letting you know he didn’t betray your confidence. You relax.

Spencer doesn’t know this, but earlier when you were riding with Morgan to the crime scene, you confided in him.

It had been completely accidental. Something about car rides brings out the need to ask for advice. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s the road to focus on, or the case to segway into, you don’t know. But what you do know, is that when you confided in Morgan, he shook his head, and called Spencer a dumbass.

“Hypothetically,” you had begun, and Morgan remembers wondering if you were going to talk about the case, but you didn’t. “If you’ve been talking-- flirting with a guy and going on a few dates over the past few months -- but there’s no label -- but so if you’ve been doing all this and then you suddenly see him outside his apartment hugging another woman -- like arms around her waist kind of deal, face in her neck...what does that mean?”

Morgan had nearly slammed on the brakes. Reid? A two-timer? He never would’ve guessed. The kid could barely get his words out when he first met you, and now he’s playing you?

“Well, hypothetically,” Morgan played into your game. “I’d be suspicious. Personally, I don’t just hug any woman like that if I don’t have other intentions,” he shook his head. What you’re describing is intimate, especially for Reid. “You’re right to think something else is going on.”

“Who said it was about me?”

Morgan looked at you with his usual knowing stare. Sometimes you forget you’re all profilers. You’ve made deals not to profile one another, but you’re sure it still happens. You all have another silence agreement to never voice it aloud, unless needed.

“Fine,” you caved, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, I just-- I was going to drop off his stupid jacket that he left in my car the night before, and I saw him hugging her right on his doorstep and she kissed his cheek and I just-- I bolted. I don’t know.” You had let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought he was different.”

“If it helps,” Morgan shrugged, “I’ll kick his ass.” He might protect Reid like a mother hen, but he’s not afraid to give him a hard time, either.

“No, no, don’t,” you groaned. “I’m just gonna keep my distance. No sense in putting effort into something that clearly is never going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that,” Morgan said. You used to talk that way all the time when you first started at the BAU, but it slowly died out the more you hung out with Spencer. Morgan connected the dots, but never told you.

“You know I’ve never been in a relationship?”

This time, Morgan did slam on the brakes.

“What?”

“Never,” you shook your head, motioning for him to keep driving. “Not one. They all fall through. I started thinking something was wrong with me, you know?” Morgan gave you another look, his sad, big brother one this time. “But then Spencer and I started getting closer, he took me on what I thought, I guess, were a couple of dates. I mean, he paid and drove and walked me to my door and all that cute shit. That’s a date, right? I mean, he never kissed me on the lips, but it’s Spencer.” You didn’t even look to see Morgan’s reaction, but he was nodding. “I started to think maybe it was never me, maybe it was the guys--”

“It was the guys,” Morgan argued. “Alright? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It would be a damn honor. Don’t let that head of yours convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, the crime scene rapidly approaching. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

You were out of the car and introducing yourself to the police on the scene before Morgan could even blink.

Morgan can only hope Reid had a good reason for having a woman at his door and hugging her, and letting her kiss his cheek. Reid doesn’t give hugs to just anyone, let alone accept a kiss, so whoever it was, obviously she was more than a friend.

The thought of Reid being a player makes Morgan smile. On the one hand, he’s a little bit proud. On the other, he’s pissed. It’s one thing to have one night stands with women who are into that sort of thing, but it’s another to drag someone along -- someone like you, someone who is too good, who deserves better than that.

Morgan had thought about telling you to just talk to Spencer, in hopes that there was a good reason for what you saw, but you’ve made it painfully clear over the past two weeks that you’d rather keep your distance instead.

So, he lets you. He can’t say that he blames you, really. Not after what you told him. He can only hope Spencer will figure this one out before it’s too late.

+++

After the case is closed and you’re back home, you immediately head for the shower. Cases are exhausting enough, but avoiding Spencer made it worse. Going from being attached at the hip to trying to be anywhere except in the same room as him took a toll on you. Not to mention, dodging everyone else’s worried looks. Morgan is the only one you’ve confided in, but that hasn’t stopped Hotch, Emily, JJ, and even Garcia from constantly asking if you’re alright.

Once you’re finished showering and in your pajamas, you head back to the living area. Spencer’s forgotten cardigan lays on the arm of your couch, lonely.

You know you shouldn’t, but you shrug it on anyway. No harm in wearing it. Not like he misses it. He probably has a hundred others.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, hoping it’ll soothe your nerves and help you drift off to sleep before your mind has the time to make you think of Spencer.

Too late.

Sighing heavily, you place the kettle on the stove. You hum a song while you’re at it, knowing that you’re being endlessly dramatic.

It’s not like you had sex with Spencer. Hell, the most the two of you did was hold hands and you kissed his cheek. He kissed your head once, though you think it was an accident.

Still, there was never a label. Why are you so upset?

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

It’s stupid, really, how hung up you are over this. A few dates don’t exactly mean anything at all. Flirting nowadays can mean nothing, too. You don’t understand any of it.

You cup your cheek gently, foolishly wondering what it would feel like if Spencer’s hand was there instead -- maybe even as he kissed you, but you don’t want to get too carried away. It’s not like anything will ever happen now.

And you know damn well/for you I would ruin myself/a million little times

Maybe you just need more time. This was the first time in a long time that you had let your guard down, let yourself go on dates. So many times it had all gone wrong, so you closed yourself off and focused on your career. You thought since you were stable at the BAU that now it was okay.

You thought Spencer -- Spencer Reid, of all people, you really thought he would’ve been different.

Maybe it’s just your type. Maybe that’s who you attract. The men who don’t want anything serious and never will. They’re stuck in Peter Pan mode. You must be Wendy. It must be a curse.

The kettle boils and you cut the burner off, fixing your tea.

You’re just walking back to the living room when there’s a knock on your door. You freeze, your panicked mind expecting the absolute worst, until you hear Spencer’s voice.

“Y/N?” He calls out. “It’s Spencer-- You probably knew that already.”

You smile into your tea, but you make no move for the door. You want-- no, you ache to let him inside, but you know it’s a bad idea. He’s probably here to ask if you’re alright, and you don’t have the energy to answer him. He’s probably going to go back to his girlfriend after this. You really don’t know that you can handle a face-to-face rejection.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer says again, pleading. He knocks once more, quietly. “I see lights are on, so I’m just going to...assume you can hear me.”

You walk a step closer. You don’t want to let him inside, but maybe you can listen. That won’t be too bad, right?

“Y/N, I’m...I’m sorry.”

Oh, tears. Stupid, stupid tears. You wipe them on the sleeve of his cardigan, glad that they’re at least falling quietly right now.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m...I’m just sorry and I miss you and it’s killing me that you won’t even look at me. I…” Spencer pauses, and you walk closer, biting on the sleeve to keep from letting out a sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Please, just tell me what I did.”

You press your back to the door, sliding down until you hit the floor. You keep your knees against your chest and set the mug of tea down next to you. The noise causes Spencer’s ears to perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Spencer,” you barely speak loud enough for him to hear. “It’s me.”

“Please, tell me what I did,” he pleads, voice breaking. Is he crying, too? “I don’t know what it was, but I’ll fix it. Or I’ll try-- Please, let me try.”

“Spencer…” You sigh, tears falling down your cheeks with no restraint. “Be honest with me, are you seeing someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob. So many times you’ve had this conversation, the rejection, finding out you weren’t the one they wanted. Too many times. But none of them ever hurt this bad. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Spencer nearly falls over. Why on earth would you think that? “What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, please,” you groan, pressing your hand to your forehead. This is pathetic. You shouldn’t be showing him how upset you are. And through a door, no less. Can you get any more dramatic?

“What are you talking about?”

“I was at your apartment, Spencer,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “I went to drop off this stupid cardigan of yours and you-- You were hugging a woman outside your door and I saw it and I saw her kiss you--”

You cut yourself off, choking on another sob, and Spencer sighs. He understands now.

“Open the door. Please,” he says.

“Why?” You reply quietly. “If you’re just going to reject me, please, just do it through the door.” The last thing you want is for him to see you like this when he tells you he’s seeing someone else, that he didn’t even know you liked him, and so on.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says softly. “Please.”

You know it’s a bad idea, but how much worse can things get?

You stand to your feet and open the door, careful of the mug of tea on the floor. Spencer’s heart drops at the sight of you. Tear stains on your cheeks, red eyes, your quivering lip as you try to hold things together, and...his cardigan hanging off your shoulders. Somehow the last tops it all off, sends a strike of pain right to his heart.

You wipe some more tears away with the sleeve, motioning for him to start talking. “Go on.”

“She’s an old friend. We did kiss before, once. But she’s not my girlfriend. She was in town and wanted to stop by to tell me she’s getting married...to her girlfriend of three years.”

You nod slowly. For some reason, that doesn’t even make you feel better. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer asks, hopeful tone and all. “Are we okay?”

“What are we, Spencer?” You ask, eyes still watering. “I can’t keep going on the way we were going, you know? It’s agonizing, I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Spencer smiles softly. “I want you to...to be my girlfriend.”

Your ears are deceiving you. They must be. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I thought it was obvious,” he chuckles. “That’s one of the things I talked to her about -- her name’s Jess. She invited me-- us to the wedding. I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend-- I still want to, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

More tears spring to your eyes and Spencer’s heart jumps, thinking he did something completely wrong.

“What happened? Did I say something?”

“No,” you shake your head. “God.” You wipe at your cheeks before turning and retreating back into your apartment. Spencer has no choice but to follow you.

He spots your mug of tea and places it on the coffee table as he shuts your front door gently with his foot.

“I’m so...stupid,” you mutter, jumping when you see he’s followed you inside. He’s not unwelcome here by any means, you’re just an idiot. A huge idiot.

“You’re not stupid,” he argues. “I wish you would’ve talked to me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this has happened to me before?” You murmur pathetically, propping your body against the arm of your couch.

Spencer’s heart breaks more. You won’t look at him again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, clasping your hands together, fighting the shakes. “I should’ve talked to you, I just-- This has happened before and those times it was… Well, you know.” You finally look up at him, tears falling. “The first time the guy didn’t even try hiding it. The second one did, but not very well because I still found out. The third wasn’t even aware that he was flirting with me, I guess. I don’t know how you can take someone on dates for months and not be aware, but he said he wasn’t.” You pause, looking away again. “I just saw a pattern and I freaked out and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers, even though you still feel like it’s not.

You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is,” he presses on. “I should’ve...talked to you about how I’m feeling, but I was scared. You’re the first girl that’s-- I don’t know, liked me for me, I guess. Dorkiness and all.”

You chuckle, and Spencer nearly grins. He got a laugh. That’s something.

“How about we both make a deal to communicate better?” He offers. You nod, so he keeps going. “I’ll go first. I really want you to be my girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile now, all dumb and trying to hide it in the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’d really love to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost like he wasn’t even expecting you to agree, but you nod, confirming it for his genius brain.

The kiss the two of you share is a long time coming. It’s gentle and warm, relaxing your muscles and easing the tension you’ve held in them for the past two weeks. Spencer gathers you in his arms, keeping you close, with zero intent of ever letting you go.

+++

When you walk into the BAU the next morning, you are painfully reminded that you are surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

It’s no secret that you and Spencer have been “dating” for a while, but you never showed PDA -- partly because the two of you were fumbling around your true feelings, and partly because you’re not too sure how relationships stand with protocol here.

Apparently, despite coming in fifteen minutes apart from one another, everyone can see right through you both.

Morgan is the first to say something. He catches you when the elevator doors open and you have Spencer’s cardigan hanging over your shoulders. In your defense, Spencer forgot to grab it when he left your house sometime this morning, so you were just trying to return it -- again.

“Late night?” Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Realizing your mistake, your eyes widen. “Shut up.” You step off the elevator and point a threatening finger in his face. “Not a word.”

Morgan’s hands raise in surrender, but he still has that goddamn smile on his face. “Might wanna take off that cardigan, sweetheart. You’re too obvious.”

Angrily, you shrug it off and walk into the bullpen.

Spencer is at his desk, so you shove his cardigan into his chest. “You forgot this.”

Upon seeing that it’s you, Spencer’s lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks.” He pauses, folding the cardigan over his arm. “I was kind of hoping you’d keep it,” he whispers, eyes darting around to be sure no one is listening. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. “Give it to me tonight, then,” you wink, earning a light blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

Hotch watches this encounter from the railing and smiles. He’s sure neither of you will do anything to warrant him giving you a stern talk about relationships and work, so he won’t mention anything for now.

Instead, he retreats back into his office, glad you’ve finally gotten over yourselves.

Garcia catches on when you come to visit her in her office only to find Spencer already standing there. He’s animatedly talking about Doctor Who, but stops abruptly when he sees you. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand the glances, the smiles, and awkward goodbyes that were shared so you could ask Garcia a question.

Prentiss is just glad the two of you will look at one another again, but the way you keep glancing over her shoulder to see Spencer is more than obvious. It’s so obvious that Prentiss and JJ share a knowing look, but say nothing. They should’ve placed bets.

You and Spencer catch each other’s eyes more than a dozen times every hour, and he follows you to the break room to conveniently get a coffee at the same time as you.

Yeah, you’re not being obvious at all.

Neither of you notice that the team has caught on, so you take your chances when you find yourselves alone in the break room. You can practically hear the conversations the rest of the team is having out in the bullpen, so you let Spencer pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head.

This is a lot for Spencer, and you too, if you’re honest. Hugs are something you never found yourself enjoying, but when you’re tucked into Spencer’s chest, you never want to leave.

You’re both too busy holding one another to hear Hotch’s footsteps as he enters the room. The clearing of his throat is what finally breaks the two of you apart.

“Agent Hotchner,” you blurt, straightening yourself and taking one too many steps away from Reid.

Hotch smirks. You haven’t called him that since your first day. “New case. Looks like a short one. Conference room in five minutes.”

And he leaves as quick as he came, chuckling under his breath.

You and Spencer share a look before dissolving into laughter and fixing your coffee. You don’t try to walk out of the break room separately, knowing that there’s no use.

Especially not when you get cold on your way to the conference room, and Spencer promptly wraps you in his cardigan.

[venalier]

it's kind of charming, too, to see this shyer side of the individual she'd had in her mind as indomitable since they'd first crossed paths in that storybook world. they'd been bound together by the machinations of some puppetmaster then, with little control over where they were driven, but today they're talking and confiding of their own volition — the thought makes her smile, just as his clumsy attempt to recover from his own surprise does.

— & back then, in that courtyard, he'd dismissed her.

but now he raises the subject anew ( death, in all its fathoms ) and tries to take it apart piece by piece, just like she had then. much less eloquently than him now, she thinks.

her eyes alternatingly hold his in patient attention and drift to her teacup, now lukewarm, in consideration. and as he talks, she realizes that the breath she'd also been holding doesn't pain her either as much as she'd feared it would. the memories were still sore, the answers still unclear. but just listening to him grapple freely, without hesitation or apology, with the same absurd, incomprehensible, disturbing unrealities that she'd thought she was the only one contending with and had thus swallowed so far down these too-fast years at the academy . . . 　　　— it gives her wings a little, too.

so much so that she even manages a quiet snort of a huff at his last assertion, which might be the oddest thing he's said this entire conversation. "if you think i'm virtuous, have you tried looking in the mirror? if anything, i've looked up to you ever since that storybook. and i'm sure i'm not the only one." someone like kent? caeldori is doubtless that if she were to go out and survey garreg mach's students and staff this very day, she'd have a well-authored petition ready for him by the end of it.

"in any case, i don't think it's a punishment, si— er, kent. you don't mind if i just call you kent, do you? i don't want to be impolite." but, strange as just his name felt, attaching a title to it after just agreeing to speak from now on as confidants feels even stranger.

"i don't know why it's happening, but there's nothing like this when i go back home to hoshido. it's just here, in fódlan. or, on these missions we're sent on." a heavy pause there as thoughts drift awry... but she couldn't make those kinds of conjectures, much less say them aloud, and so dismisses them and returns to something he'd said earlier instead. "so, you're afraid to die now because it's not the end anymore, and therefore... no longer gives your life and duty as a knight its meaning by being the honorable conclusion it's supposed to be."

a quieter pause. "... i can understand that. i was taught the same thing, even though i wasn't even raised like a proper retainer."

it's only when her eyes drift to a nearby clock ticking in the office that she realizes she had spoken that mostly to herself — and also that it was nearing five in the afternoon. caeldori nearly bolts straight up from her chair. "oh, banana bunches! i'm so sorry, i agreed to take over for drills at the training hall this evening." a lance of guilt nearly has her uncharacteristically reaching for excuses to be absent in order to continue talking, especially since it was clear it'd taken kent so much to say all this. but in vain; she simply couldn't.

"let's please continue this conversation later; i really mean it," she says earnestly as she gathers her belongings. "i'll find you next time as soon as i can. and i'll make it up to you, i promise."

when heaven shall call her