#V: Ashen

[5blight]

ohhh yehag those dunmers ……..

[exaltatuss]

"Osiria are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you?"

"Hm. Now that you mention it, I certainly need something to eat." She said, nodding. "Do you want me to help you on the cooking, though?"

[illithilit]

The array I've got here is so fucking wild, I swear to the gods. I get whiplash going from some muses who will smite you if you even look at them wrong -- and then there's other muses that fuck all the goddamn time with varying levels of needing to be invested in someone before they get nasty

And sometimes I have to fill out little sticker charts for when they go thirty minutes without having sex with their partner. 😐

[ashenwinds]

Short King™️ and child

[falkecat]

OCtober Day 5 - Relationships

I know this is so so so late but I was working on it during the challenge so I wanted to finish it out fdvxfgb

Here is Iridal and Faeryn Grim! They're father and daughter and Faeryn runs the show X3

[rosemarytrash]

Do you have any ashen ships?

you mean that ♣ type shit?

not really! none that i'm particularly passionate about. when it fancies me i may read some vrisrose hateship fic with kanaya attempting to mediate in a sloppy sapphic way. but in that sense i don't think i've ever been into a genuinely ashen ship that didn't divulge into some actual love/hate triangle situation. that there quadrant vacillation and hiding behind the ashen cloak to keep ones true feelings (poorly) disguised... like i like that dynamic but not the actual thing itself

but that is probably born from my enjoyment of reading kanaya trying her damnedest in spite of herself with vriska and tavros and eridan lol. i did think, way back when, in the moment, that gamrezi with rose on the side had interesting potential as an ashen situation, or at least interesting potential as an exploration of toxic troll romance with a human not understanding shit about jack. i would've been into that had anything ever happened with it in canon, probably, almost maybe because anything to do with the seers is just cool by itself and i like gamzee as a standalone so like altogether that just had a lot of my fav things going on

but in that same moment where that was mentioned and then thrown away, otp graduated to canon, so oh well i guess

[drainbangle]

18 for Temenos for the ot2 ask meme!

ot2 ask meme

18.) A headcanon for [character]?

It was hard picking a HC to talk about that I either haven't written about in fic or like, am keeping a secret for fic purposes, so I'll take this opportunity to talk about my interpretation of Temenos & Roi!

Roi, on the surface, was (for lack of a better or nicer term) the more "palatable" of the two Mistral brothers. He was four years older than Temenos, and in contrast to his sharper-tongued and doubtful younger brother, was more easily likable due to a more approachable and friendlier demeanor.

However, I'd also like to interpret Roi as failing in one key area compared to Temenos, specifically how I write him in Mourning Howl, and that is: not trusting others until it was too late.

In the months leading up to his kidnapping, Roi became increasingly closed off and distrustful; the young man that was previously so warm and easy to talk to isolated himself from those around him —including his younger brother— the more he investigated into the church.

He stopped talking about strange/funny things that he saw, people he met, and came home with dark bags under his eyes, unwilling to divulge to Temenos what he was investigating; not until he came home one night, Darkblood Bow in hand.

I also headcanon that Arcanette was absolutely a factor into this, as I believe that she just had like... multiple past aliases/lifetimes lived in the church as a means of information and control. As Mindt, isolating Roi through what was a manipulative and unhealthy friendship; not quite the same as what she did to Tanzy, but achieved the goal of cutting him off from his family.

Under this interpretation, the terrible secrets he found included not only the Darkblood Bow but also that Arcanette *gestures* used the church to achieve so much horrible shit.

In the statement earlier, I described this as a failure, but it'd be more accurate to describe what happened to Roi as him being a victim of circumstance. He and Jörg kept Temenos out of the loop in order to protect him as the youngest in the family, but factor in stress, loss of faith, along with Arcanette further isolating him from his family and you got one hell of a tragedy— unintentionally set up for failure due to the simple intention of keeping Temenos safe.

...So, back to Temenos, specifically in MH! By contrast, while Temenos still goes through a whole lot of tragedy (I mean, Crick doesn't even die in this timeline —or anything I write, really— but what happened in MH is still real bad) not to mention still has trust issues due to institutional trauma... he opened up to others. He trusted others. Despite everything.

And having those connections, not to mention their support, is what lets him finish what Roi began— and tragically, succeed where he had fallen.

IDK, I really enjoy the interpretation that Roi is very much a contrast to Temenos & Crick— but especially the former in their journeys with institutional failure: Roi begins faithful in the church, but his sudden disillusionment timed with a long period of self-isolation and distrust led to his kidnapping; where Temenos begins his story disillusioned with the church, but still finds faith in people while maintaining a good amount of doubt in institutions.

[imminent-danger-came]

Was listening to the Hollow Knight soundtrack and Sealed Vessel sounds like Macaque and Wukong and/or whatever the hell happens to MK in season 5. Sick to my stomach

You can't do this to me

[devoutpriest]

amongthcwreck:

there was supposed to be talk for peace. something to bring an end to a war that hadn’t even started yet. yet, he thought of it like it was inevitable. and it was, he knew that. half of Arkadia was divided. one side saying that they should have peace with the grounders, the others eager for war. and he stood, unbalanced on a line that he had drawn up in the middle. unsure of where to stand completely. he was the leader of the group, initially all rebellious and raucous, he taking the bracelets off which detected the vital health and movement from the ark. he tried to see all angles. like he was trying to see now. the new presence in the camp was a man, one from the grounders, trying to talk about peace. something that was already starting a war. funny, wasn’t it? a war over peace. he approached him now without hesitation, although some uncertainty and distrust. “what do you think of it?” he asked, a gesture towards what they had built of Arkadia so far. a simple question just to start something. see his view of things. figure out what the grounders really thought of peace.

athelstan was trying to negotiate for peace with the sky people, which when he heard about the hundred going down to earth from space, reminded him of falling from heaven. it was not the same, of course, but still ALL of what god had created, he breathing clay in the earth and in humans, and he had read that in genesis. additionally, he was grateful that god had heard of his praying wishes to experience earth.

heda anya had entrusted athelstan to this precarious task of peace, seeing his fluent capacity to speak english, and being capable of learning their mother tongue of trigedasleng. it had been a difficult meeting at first, she recognising him to be a white settler to invade their ground. it was harsh like norse, emanating in the earthy ground itself, as he speaks to not kill him in their tongue, and they speak, anya deciding to listen to him. the grounder’s world was different to what he knew, and when he commented such, one of the grounders who had a more open mind to his staying with them, had said to him that THIS was his world now, as he holds a greying brown skull of a person who died in the ground.

he studies the camping site the sky people had built, the first time seeing it close up. he has no weapons with him, of no advanced equipment from mount weather, nor the more basic (yet, VERY effective, he discovered) weapons he was still learning to use from the grounders. having nothing that could be PERCEIVED as a weapon when negotiating for peace, was essential.

the camp looked quite efficient. it was not as organized nor advanced, as mount weather, where there was bunk beds and food cafeterias and cleanliness, but he supposed it looked liveable.

after a few moments, he answers. he speaks english in return, fluently flowing from his mouth. “it is different to what i know, but it is built well, bellamy of the sky people.”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

You're Mine

Title: You’re Mine

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dark!Daddy!Geralt x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Prompts: Geralt of Rivia + Female Reader + Daddy Kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic, requested by @chibijusstuff

Summary: After coming back from a hunt, you find out that Geralt isn’t himself.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, pet names for Reader (little one, my sweet), Darkfic, dark!Geralt, drugged!Geralt, choking, biting, scratching, manipulation, Geralt rips Readers underwear off, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, memory lapse, bathtime as aftercare, cuddling, possessiveness, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Unbeta'd, because I was impatient about posting this. All mistakes are mine.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

You’ve been watching him for hours from your spot in a nearby chair as he kneels in front of the fire. The silver wolf's face on his medallion shines brightly from the flickering embers, suspended from his chest. The remnants of the potion in his system show themselves in deep, black cracking lines on his ashen skin that radiate from his closed eyes. He has never taken this long to shake off the effects of any of the mixtures he carries in his pack, and your concern is beginning to grow.

He barely acknowledged you when he came home in the early morning hours. He placed his swords in their spot by the door, shed his armor, and took his place in front of the fire to warm himself and meditate. The longer he remains in that spot, the more you wring your hands with concern.

You were but a commoner; you hadn’t much knowledge of the Witcher lifestyle before meeting Geralt in that tavern. And even now, Geralt wasn’t the most forthcoming with things he deemed ‘unnecessary for you to concern yourself with’, as he put it. You hadn’t the faintest idea of what was in his potions, let alone how to make them.

You only knew that he was usually back to himself by now.

Another thing you noticed was that his scent had changed. He tended to keep the smell of whatever beast or monster he had slain. But all you could smell were flowers, and more specifically, the aroma of tuberose.

Heady and exotic, the scent of tuberose is one you are accustomed to. Your mother would use tuberose oil as a perfume, saying it would lure in men with its sweet honey and warm spice combination. Your poor father had died years prior, and your mother barely waited for the dirt in his grave to settle before she was out with other men. But that’s a story for a different day.

Even though the oil performed just as she promised, you couldn't quite grasp why she never revealed the source of that unique blend to you. Of course, you called it magic, but she would always shake her head and say there was no way it was magical. She claimed it was a gift from an elderly beggar woman to whom she had once given a handful of orens. You knew well enough not to push any further, but that doesn’t mean you forgot that story.

Or that smell.

You were so in your thoughts that you almost missed Geralt’s grumbling. Your eyes returned to his face, and this time, his eyes looked at you. Gone was the golden yellow iris you had come to love, only to be replaced with full, black eyes. Black, like you never saw black. Nothingness.

Rising from the floor, he bares his teeth and growls lowly. You stand up from your chair and raise your hands in front of you.

“Geralt?” You attempt, moving backward when he takes a step forward. “Daddy...” you trail off as he smiles at you, a devilish grin showing his sharp canines.

“My sweet little one. Don’t you look delectable?” Geralt coos, crowding into your space as you are backed into the wall behind you.

His hands rest on either side of your head on the wall while he noses at your neck, no doubt smelling the fear-induced arousal that is shooting through your entire body.

“Daddy? Why don’t we take it slow? You’re not yourself yet-”

His hand flies to your throat, tightening at the sides. “You wish to refuse me that which is rightfully mine?”

“Geralt, I-”

“Ah, ah. Try again, little one,” he cautions, his grip on your neck ever sure.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” you breathe, tears falling from your eyes.

“I know. I can smell it on you,” he confesses, leaning back in to sniff under your jawline. He stoops to pick you up and brings you to the bed, lying his body on top of yours. He doesn’t waste time in rucking your dress up and pressing his clothed sex against your own. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

His voice, so delicate as he speaks to you, sounds like your Geralt. But those eyes, the way he takes without asking, and his smell only serve to repel you. It feels like your partner has been swapped out for a harsher, more unkind version of who he used to be.

His hand reaches between the two of you and rips away your undergarments before unbuttoning his pants so his thick and ready length can fall free. As soon as his shaft is uninhibited from its confines, he is pushing and prodding at your entrance.

Without preparation or care, he enters you swiftly. You aren’t given a second to adjust to his girth before he withdraws his cock and forces himself back inside you. By the third thrust, you are crying and begging him to stop. Your hands are balled into fists as you pound on his chest, his shoulders, anywhere you can land a blow.

He only laughs at your feeble attempts to thwart his actions. He also teases you when your body eventually betrays you.

“Look at you, being torn apart from the inside out, and your sloppy little cunt can’t get enough of it. Always so soft and warm for me. Stop fighting and take it, little one,” he soothes. His warm, rich voice invades your ears, and you cease efforts to push him away from you.

Once he has you malleable and compliant, he focuses on chasing his release. Unconcerned with your pleasure, he fists one hand in the sheets of your bed while the other tangles in your hair to expose your neck. Biting and sucking at your skin until blood is brought to the surface, he takes pride in marking you.

Soon, your neck and chest are littered with bite marks and bruises. You can feel every welt as he takes his time poking them as he drives into you over and over. His first orgasm is so intense that he lets out a feral growl, slowing down for a bit before it’s evident that he isn’t done in the slightest.

Realizing your fate, you begin to hyperventilate. Your chest is heaving as you inhale and exhale shallowly; you feel as though your heart could beat out of your chest. But only momentarily as Geralt leans down to speak into your ear.

“You’ve never looked lovelier than you do tonight. I can smell your fear; I can taste your panic. Just have to hold out a little longer for me, my sweet,” he sighs, nosing at your neck.

By now, you can feel nothing but pain from the bites, the scratches, and his relentless pounding into your battered and bruised heat. The stuttering of his hips is a gift, alerting you to his impending climax. You’d already given up on experiencing your peak.

“So close. I can feel it coming, little one,” he whispers, his voice strained and gruff as he forces his eyes shut. He thrusts into you one last time, his hips flush with yours as his cock paints your insides. Once he stops spasming, he lets out a heavy breath and opens his eyes.

You watch as he comes back to himself, the black veins disappearing from his face and his eyes returning to their golden hue. Frozen where you are, you observe the realization on Geralt’s face as he looks down at your marred skin and wet eyes.

As he relaxes just enough to pull away from your body, he quickly adjusts himself back into his pants and settles down onto his knees. He’s unsure of what to say; what can he say that would make this situation any easier? His eyes are drawn to where his semen drips from you.

“Daddy? Are you back?” you ask, your hands pushing your dress down over yourself as you sit up.

The sound of your tiny voice washes over him like a cold shower. He finally looks back at you, and a single tear falls from his left eye. As if a switch were flipped, Geralt appears smaller than before. He shrinks into himself, hunching his shoulders.

“I did this to you?” he guesses, nodding to the angry marks on your skin.

“Geralt, I think you were poisoned. What’s the last thing you remember?” you question, raising your hands to show him you mean no harm.

“The wyvern nest. There were druids; they surrounded me. I felt pain in my neck and then smelled flowers before everything went black. Next thing I know, I’m in bed with you,” he replies.

“You weren’t yourself, Geralt. This wasn’t you,” you insist, feeling the urge to comfort him.

“Poisoned or possessed, I am the reason you’re hurt right now. I could have killed you if I hadn’t come back to myself,” he frets, holding up a hand when you try to move closer to him.

“I’ve already forgiven you, if only you would forgive yourself,” you plead, trying to hide your distress.

“You should have a bath. Let me draw it for you,” he suggests, leaving you on the bed before you can say anything in response.

After he fills the wooden bath with enough water, he uses Igni to warm the water to your liking. He helps you into the water, washing your body and hair when you ask him to stay with you. When you are done, he helps dry your skin. You don’t exchange many words, and neither of you knows how to start a conversation.

After you are dressed in a nightgown, you climb into bed and pull Geralt in behind you. He reluctantly lays next to you, afraid that he will hurt you again somehow. Turning onto your side, you face away from him. You sniff, holding back tears and the lump in your throat.

Before you could clear your throat, Geralt was pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrap around you, and he inhales your scent. While he can still smell the faint echo of fear on you, the most prevalent fragrance is overwhelming love.

You were pushing down your fear with all your might and thinking only of good moments of Geralt. Images of a smile pulling at his lips, your hands in his, and a stolen kiss cloud your vision.

You snuggle into his embrace, his body heat keeping you warm. He peppers kisses over your hickeys on your neck, lulling you to sleep. But just before you can give in to the draw of slumber, you hear his voice in your ear.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” he whispers, laughing lowly. “You’re mine, little one. And I won’t let you escape.” His hand goes to your mouth, and you know your night is far from over.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this story. It took so long to write, but I am happy with what I have created here. Also, I feel like there are very few dark!Geralt or Daddy!Geralt stories out there. Is it because we don’t like these or it’s just too taboo? Let me know, cuz I could write more dark versions of this man.

[mykneeshurt]

Envy

Shout out (again lmao) to @ave661 for the artwork (I’m sorry I tag you so much lmao)

Possessive Keegan x F!reader

Inspired by Bad Omens - Death of Peace of Mind

Not proofread because I’m legit so tired lmao I could have done more to this but my brain isn’t working x

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, possessive and jealous themes, p in v, unprotected sex, goes without saying but it’s the internet ini, this is fiction. This is not a healthy relationship.

•

The buzz of the bar hummed around you, strangers going about their business, wrapped up in their own little worlds. You sipped at your drink as you watched life unfold before you. Couples sharing intimate conversations, friends sharing stories, laughter. That’s when you noticed a pair of silvery blue eyes watching you from across the bar.

Keegan.

More specifically your ex-boyfriend Keegan.

Absolutely not wanting to get into it you finished your drink and made your way out of the bar. You could feel his eyes bore into you as you took your leave. Watching. Waiting.

It was an early autumn evening. Still warm but with a noticeable chill now in the air. Pulling out your phone your text your best friend, informing them that you’d seen Keegan at the bar and that you were making your way home. Going for a drink on your own wasn’t unusual for you. You did it quite often in fact, happy in your own company, watching the world go by. It gave you time to decompress, to think.

The taxi rank was about a 15 minute walk away, the streets weren’t too crowded, it being a Sunday after all. Everyone at home too full to move after their roast dinner. Various alley ways lined the streets, the first golden crisp leaves began to fall, the breeze encapsulated you in its warm embrace.

It was perfection. Your favourite season.

You allowed your mind to drift, forgetting all about seeing your ex-boyfriend. Entranced within your own world. And that’s when he pounced.

A firm broad body slams into you, pushing you full force into one of the alleyways. Before a shriek could even fall from your mouth a large hand muffled your mouth. Effectively silencing you. Your body hit the red brick wall with a dull thud. Dazed you eventually focused on your assailant, eyes widening as you were met with Keegans face.

His ashen eyes stared into your very soul, your essence. Your brows knitted together confused as you relaxed into his form. He’d never laid a hand on you, if anything he was sickly sweet, worshipping the ground you walked on. But he had a jealous side, one that he had managed to hide well. But the mask slipped, as it always did. He became possessive, envious of every interaction you had. He didn’t control or coerce you in anyway, but he’d always let you know what he was thinking. He wanted you all to himself. That’s when you ended it.

And by the looks he wasn’t getting over you any time soon.

Slowly he removed his hand, allowing your short sharp breaths to echo in the cramped alley. ‘Keegan?’ Your eyes fluttered around his features, trying to make sense of this … situation. ‘Hi sweetheart’ he drawled, his voice thick like caramel. Still breathless you whispered ‘what are you doing?’ He watched as your chest rose and fell, your lungs fighting against the adrenaline pumping through you.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek. ‘Just missed you is all. Saw you across the bar n needed to tell you.’ Scrunching your nose you scoffed ‘then just tell me like a normal person? Instead of pinning me in an alley way. Christ Keegan.’

‘Fuck, I love it when you’re angry.’ His eyes fell to your lips, watching as the corner of your mouth twitched.

Dropping his head he nuzzled into your neck, as he slipped his knee between your thighs. Slightly pushing your dress up against your skin. ‘Keegan’ you warned, your tone sharp and commanding. But that’s when he trailed his tongue from your neck to your earlobe, nipping at it gently. ‘Fuck you smell so good sweetheart’ you felt his voice rumble through his chest and onto yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pulled at your hip, his 6’1 frame towering over you.

‘Keegan …’ it was less of a warning and more of a plead, your breathless voice seeped into his skin spurring him on. ‘Missed the way you say my name sweetheart’ his grip on your hip tightened. Causing you inadvertently roll your hips into him, arching your back off the brick wall.

You brushed your cheek against his, his sharp jaw cut against your skin as you melted into him. With his other hand he snaked it up your body, along your neck and into your hair. Twisting it in his grasp. A surprised moan fell from you lips as he nipped your collarbone.

Peering over his shoulder you tried to scope out the street, to see if any passers by had clocked you. The street appeared empty, the off leaf tumbling by the entry way, the sky gradually darkening with every minute.

Giving in slightly you placed your hands on his arms, squeezing them gently. Heavy breaths fell in between the two of you. Nipping at your jaw he finally placed his lips on to yours, going against your better judgement you reciprocated the kiss. Lips dancing in unison as he swiped his tongue against yours. Sighing deeper into the kiss you tangled your fingers in his jet black hair, eliciting a hiss from him.

He placed his hand at the small of your back pulling you further into him. Breaking the kiss he trailed kissed from your lips to your neck again, knowing it was your sensitive spot. Using his free hand he cupped your jaw, dragging his thumb along your lips. You nipped and sucked on it gently, muffling the guttural moans from your chest. Thrusting his knee upwards closer to your cunt it grazed your swollen clit.

You jerked your hips, desperate to relieve the mounting pressure. Feeling you grind against his thigh he cupped your pussy, feeling how wet you were through your lace panties. ‘Always knew I could still make you wet baby, you want me to fill this cunt? Just like I used to? … hmmm?’ You knew this was so wrong, you ended it for a reason, but he always knew how to work your body. How to make you come undone with a mere touch.

‘Yes … fuck, yes’ you muttered.

With that he swept your panties to the side and plunged two fingers into your weeping cunt. Not giving you any time to adjust to his fingers he began pumping them in and out of you. Clenching onto the back of his neck you buried your face into his shoulder, biting at his muscular form. The sound of the wet pussy echoed in the alleyway as you desperately tried to stifle your moans. ‘Such a pretty little cunt. All those pretty sounds just for me. Only me’ his voice was possessive and deep.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, he was thick, it honestly surprised you every time. Dropping your hand you began rubbing his cock over his jeans, causing him to buck his hips slightly. With small gentle motions he began to circle your clit, adding to the pressure that was building in your core. He felt you clench against his fingers, ‘give it to me baby, wanna feel you cum … c’mon’ he cooed, his voice soft but demanding.

He kept his rhythm going, his moans melted into your ears as you rubbed his cock. He felt you clench tighter, throwing your head back your jaw fell slack as you started into to pant. Feeling yourself pass through the veil into an ocean of euphoria you clenched your eyes shut. Your hips writhed and jerked on his hand as his fingers remained inside you.

Tugging as his belt he soon got the message, removing his fingers he placed them on his tongue. Eyes rolling back into his head at your taste, a taste he missed to fervently. Yanking down his jeans and boxers his thick cock flung free. Wasting no time he hooked your thigh around his waist and pushed into you. Both gasping at the change in sensation as your walls hugged his cock. The evening air nipping at your exposed cores.

He placed his forehead against yours, biting his lip as he whimpered. Noses bumping together as he thrust into you, making up for lost time. ‘Missed the way you fuck, the way you taste’ he whispered against your lips. A grin broke out across your lips as you whined into him, reigniting a kiss. It was sloppy, messy and driven by his intense possessiveness of you. But fuck did he know how to work you, how to break you.

You muttered a string of nonsensical phrases under your breath as you savoured the feeling of him again. He stretched out your walls as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix, his fingertips clenched onto your thigh like a vice. Trying to steady himself but to pull you closer, despite there being no more room. Your arms draped around his neck, nails digging into his flesh as you let the intense pleasure consume you.

Feeling your oncoming orgasm grow deep with you, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. ‘Fuck sweetheart, that’s it, cum on my cock’ he said drawling every last letter, every last syllable. You mouth fell open as heat rose against your skin, dropping a hand to your clit to push you past the edge. He quickly slapped a hand over your mouth as you came, stifling your moans, muffling his name. The vibrations of your sounds shattered through him, as he came seconds later. He bit down on his lip, hard. Quietly whimpering as he watched your blown out pupils search his face, for what he wasn’t sure.

He pulled out slowly, but not before pushing his cum back into your cunt. You jolted at the sudden intrusion before smirking to yourself. He kissed you again, but this time it was slower, tender. As he pulled away he ran his thumb across your lips ‘you’ll always be mine.’

————

Taglist - @taurus-ted @luminousbeings-crudematter

‘The way you fuck the way you taste’ I didn’t make this up, this is from the song. God bless you Noah Sebastiann

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

All NSFW warnings apply in future chapters.

Word Count ~ 3.5k+

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

vii ~ 'Lord of the Tides'

129 AC

VISENYA - DRAGONSTONE

The sky above was grey, as it always was upon Dragonstone. The air thick and cloying, the inescapable stench of salt, smoke and brimstone filled the lungs of all who dared cross upon its stormy threshold. It was always warm here, clammy - even when it rained.

I oft found solace, riding high over the plains of ashen volcanic rock. The sulphuric steam stinging my skin as I let my dragon take me high upon Dragonmount. There I let myself venture upon its edges, discarding my boots and feeling the jagged stone beneath my feet. I enjoy feeling how it cuts and presses into my skin, sometimes I leave bloodied and limping. Though it feels good, feels righteous to have my blood dried upon its rocks, ritualistic. Just as I claimed Silverwing, I shall claim this island as my own one day.

I watch as Silverwing scurries into the large cavern etched into the side of the mountain. She oft goes there, for that is why Vermithor can be found lazing. It is a strange sight, seeing two beasts which strike such fear into the hearts of men, so affectionate with each other. I too have found comfort in their embrace, often falling asleep aside the two beasts as a child, usually as they coiled. My father, Daemon would be the one to find me, to scoop me in his arms and return me to Dragonstone.

Vermithor had taken a liking to me, he was an aloof beast - distant. Yet it was my bond with Silverwing which softened his gaze upon me, allowing me to sit by them both under the torch light, reading. Silverwing had always been the most gentle of the elder dragons, tentative to my thoughts and whims. I needn't say many commands, for she already knows my desires. Many found it odd I had claimed her over Vermithor, thinking his temperament was more aligned with my own. In some ways, I wish I had. There was something terribly revealing about claiming such a docile dragon. Something vulnerable, as though it revealed my own heart to others without any need for confession.

This was my home, not King's Landing - city of piss and rotting teeth. Dragonstone was a place of magic; I can feel it simmering in the air and ground. Sense it when I place my palm on the rocks. That low humming of the hearth of Valyria, of the Targaryen's. Many find it to be a grim place, akin with Harrenhal - though mystified with blood magic instead of a curse.

But it is that which drives me to it, my heart doesn't fear it's darkness nor its danger. For I know within it, for those truly of the blood of the dragon - its darkness is merely there so that our fire may burn brightly. A cocoon of warmth. It is not like the emptied and sullen corpse of Harrenhal, no, Dragonstone is full - it is alive. So, it came as no shock to my mother that I had forfeited my claim to the throne, opting to rule Dragonstone instead and allow my brother, Jacaerys to be her heir.

The realm deserves a King of a kind and just nature; that is not me. My temper burns too hot, and I have no desire to be pulled as a puppet on a string. I have no taste for politics, nor can bear the burden of pleasing the faith. In that regard, I am much like my father, and he was not meant for the throne either.

Daemon, of course was outraged by this notion and doubled down, claiming my willingness to give up the throne proved I was fair enough to sit upon it. But I know that is not true, for if it were - my mother would have refused me. At first, of course she protested but came to see that my heart lies here, not in court. And I shall continue our line, where our House belongs and I shall raise my brothers Viserys, Aegon iii and any child I might have here - amidst the ash and warmth.

My mother has been generous in her patience of me, and my father overjoyed with the notion that I have not wed yet. They are letting me decide who is worthy, and I still have made no choice. Marriage is to be political yes, but I cannot bare marrying and laying with a man I feel little for. I wish to have what my mother and father have, but there is an unlikely chance it seems.

The most promising match's hail from House Stark and Blackwood. Though neither of which please me greatly. In truth, I had wished to marry as mother did, to a Targaryen, to have an ancestral wedding too. Though it seems the God's did not write such a thing within my fate. So, in turn, I wait. I wait to see just where this path of what has felt like endless girlhood shall end. I am but eight and ten, still no marriage or children to speak - some have suggested that I shall take after my great Aunt Saera Targaryen. In truth such a life sounds rather pleasing; fucking lovers then taking off to Lys, pretending to be a maiden to exploit patrons of pleasure houses. Only difference being I would not have to pretend at first.

As I made my way across the stones, I noted the sky dimming slowly, twas time I return home. Even for a Targaryen, nights on Dragonmount can be treacherous. It was no surprise to me that upon my return, more news of dramatics at King's Landing filled my ears. Luke's legitimacy was being called into question as heir to Driftmark by Vaemond Velaryon, on account of Lord Corlys' sudden illness. Of course, we were to be dragged to the capital for his trial. Despite the matter being settled already, it seemed those sniveling Hightower’s were to reconsider claims that had already been declared by King Viserys, though it was no surprise either to hear how my grandsire had deteriorated in years passing. A part of me longed to visit from time to time, though I knew why mother had to leave. Why it was impossible to stay amongst those dens of vipers.

I sat in Lucerys room, my hand entwined with his as he sat upon his bed. The both of us watching as Jace paced back and forth, ranting and muttering.

"Tis an outrage... how can Grandsire let this stand!" Jace paused and turned to us, his face curdled.

"I... do not know." I say softly, contemplating his words.

Jace's face hardens, he scoffs and turns to where Lucerys and I both sit. His finger pointed directly at me," We should not have spent such time away from King's Landing. Mother ought to have trusted us to face them!"

"She has been rather busy brother, rearing us. Tis not her job to entertain the Hightower’s wicked lies and let us spend our lives defending ourselves against them." I can only shake my head at my younger brother's fierce words. For I know he is brave and true, at times Jace can be too stern for his own good.

Jace purses his lips and turns to look upon the view of the bay. I can tell he has no argument against me, so I smile softly and turn my attention to my other brother, who nestles himself upon my shoulder.

"They aren’t lies though... are they?  Even the Velaryon’s think it so. " The silence is broken as Luke's soft voice fills his chamber. His head rising from my shoulder as Jace turns once more.

“Ser Vaemond does not speak for the Sea Snake, brother…” I said, gently brushing his dark hair from his eye.

“But he speaks the opinion many seem to share.” Luke mutters lowly.

 I turn my head to Jace, and both our gazes interlock as we struggle to confirm what our younger brother already knows. The silence continues, and then, Jace steps forward, his tone proud and measured.

"It matters not what they say. The only relevant truth is the fact we are Targaryen's and that Grandsire, and the Sea Snake supports yours and all our claims." Jace beckons, giving Luke a small smile. We both exchange another look before I watch as Jace turns, making his way towards the window once more.

In the corner of my eye, I can see how Luke’s face curdles with discomfort, I turn my head and give him a gentle nod, “You worry too much. All will be well in time.”

“There is much to worry about. I… I do not feel I am right to rule Driftmark, mayhap they are right to challenge me. I know nothing of commanding a fleet.” His dark eyes lower themselves to the ground, Lucerys frowns softly and I can’t help but pull his chin up so that he might look into my eyes once more.

“What do any of us know of our future duties, brother? What does Jace know about protecting the realm, or I about ruling Dragonstone? That is for us to uncover in time. Fuck the treacherous webs our enemies spin, they have their own wants… desires that tempt them. We need not listen, for once we sit upon our thrones their voices shall be too quiet to even hear.” As I let go of his chin, I found the excitement in my tone again. Lucerys face shifts to chuckle quietly and I do the same, he nods giving me a soft glare before rising to his feet to speak with Jace.

I take a moment to gaze upon my two brothers, to see them now growing into men… when it felt like only a moment ago they were mere boys before me. To see how their temperaments became more distinct by the day, gave me a sense of relief for our futures. They were good and brave, it seemed such were rare traits in times such as these. Their dark hair gleamed bronze in the sunlight for a moment, and I was filled with a warmth, a love that I couldn’t quite explain. Though yes, they were my mother’s sons – at times it felt like they were just as much my baby’s as they were hers. How I had held each one upon their birth and ran my fingers across their fat cheeks when they were babes. How, now as they grew into men it was the hard bone of their jaws my fingers would feel beneath them. Such sentiments made my stomach coil with a grief for our youth, for the innocence I felt was being chipped away at by the day. Yet now, seeing them before me, they still appear as the small boys I once held so close, and I knew it would not be very long until I had to let them go.  

●

The trip to King’s Landing was but a short one on dragonback and the Princess Visenya indeed watched her earthly surroundings go from smoky wonders of Dragonstone to the dust filled haze of the capital. She practically felt her stomach reel from the mere thought of the familiar stench, and after leaving Silverwing in the Dragonpits it came as a surprise to all her family that upon their arrival to the Red Keep, none from their own House were there to greet them. Only Lord Caswell appeared before Princess Rhaenyra, approaching her with an understanding gaze. Of course, Alicent and her peculiar spawn would not show the decency of kin, for they weren’t. Not truly. Perhaps by blood, but it seemed that made matters worse given the context of the Blacks return. Still, Visenya thought, it had been six years since last they saw the rest of their family. Six years since the night on Driftmark which led to an even greater rift… six years since he had lost his-

“Sister!” Jacaerys snapped his finger before her face, snickering at the dazed Princess.

Visenya looked up from her entranced gaze, realising she had been staring at the ground below, she looked around to see the bustling of carriages and servants around her. The Princess shifted to her two half-brothers, Jace and Luke standing before her. The glimmer of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s silver hair disappearing into the darkness as they made their way into the keep.

“Mother and Daemon are to have an audience with Alicent, and it seems none of the Hightower’s have made time in their day to greet us. We are on our own.” Jace scoffed, folding his arms as he cocked his head.

Visenya raised her brow, nodding as she began to walk, “Tis a blessing really. I do not wish to ruin such a beautiful day with the look of their sullen faces.” Her head turned as Jace and Luke followed alongside her.

“They did all seem rather grey didn’t they?” Jace jested, chuckling to himself.

The three young Targaryen’s continued forth, making their way up the stairs from the middle bailey and into the halls of the Keep. Visenya spoke once more.

“I’d imagine all the years of conspiring and prayer has meant for little time in the sun. They likely appear as corpses now.” The Princess hollowed her cheeks as she gave a wink to Luke, winning a small giggle from him.

Once they had reached Maegor’s Holdfast, the siblings had branched off, returning to settle in to their childhood chambers. As Visenya reached hers a wave of bitter nostalgia washed over her, she let her fingers glide upon the stone walls observing how it had been kept so similar yet… different to how she had left it. Naturally, she had taken her belongings with her but the furniture and the deep crimson bedding. Yes, it had been left just as it was. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the freshly lit candles, the small dish of water and soap which sat in a silver tray upon her vanity, a small rag draping over the chair. Visenya smiled, knowing the servants had remembered such preferences of hers. Near her bed, sat the small trunk of the few belongings she’d brought from Dragonstone. Upon the mattress itself, lay the scarlet gown and matching slippers.

She sat upon her bed, taking in the smell of damp and mildew. The air around her was quite cold, though a fire crackled. It was likely her chambers had not been used since her departure, from the smell of it – it seemed to not have been cleaned very often either. She settled in, and soon found herself sitting at her old vanity. Admiring how she had grown, how the last time she gazed into this mirror she was but a girl.

The princess had indeed grown vigorously as the years passed. Much like her parents it seemed she had inherited both the mind and body of a dragonrider. Imposing, her body had become – not only to others but to herself. Her form Junoesque, unyielding in its femininity as her hips and breasts were among the first thing to develop suddenly. It seemed almost overnight she had no longer fit into the clothing she once freely adorned, her body changing, aching even. The first time she had gotten her moonblood felt like a life sentence for Visenya, as no more did she feel the same kind of unawareness of her body. The princess had felt like she was now very much a prisoner to her newly found womanhood, she seldom understood why such changes were needed. Why every moon her belly would swell, growing heavy and coil with pain, how she would have to crawl to her mother’s quarters and lay by her side simply to reassure such things were normal. Though, as the years had gone by, she adjusted to such feeling, relished that the pain she felt at times was proof of her fortitude. That no man could endure such sufferance so frequently.

Visenya marveled at her sun-kissed skin, the way her silver hair gleamed now that it had grown even longer than her mothers. She kept it loose, unbound; for she relished in letting her body grow as it pleased, there was no use in taming herself; her hair included. Indeed, did the Princess enjoy herself – for no matter how beautiful a man thought her to be, it was herself which she wished to appease the most. The Princess was strict regarding her standards, unwavering that she would be dressed in the finest gowns, and smell of the richest scents the realm had to offer. Whether it was silk from Dorne or perfumed oil from Lys – she simply refused to lead a life without such beauty within it. Some may think it shallow or indulgent, but Visenya knew it was merely her lust for life which drove her towards such luxuries. She wished to experience everything, wished for a life of sensuality and passion. There was no grey cloud in her sky that was without a silver lining, for she would not accept much less than satisfaction. After all, there was so much suffering in the realm, so much ugliness and brutality. She owed it to every poor soul who died so terribly, to live life as it ought to be lived. Indulging and embracing pleasure and beauty in every way, for so few had the opportunity to.

Such mentality, did however, lead her at times to indulge in the filtrations of men and despite Visenya’s bravado, she was gentle at heart - oft stringing men along rather than shatter their dreams of winning her favor. Such is exactly what her father had told her worried him before their arrival to King’s Landing. He spoke of how difficult it was stopping his inclinations to assault the few men he might find leering at her at Dragonstone. King’s Landing, however, was a different beast and Prince Daemon had no doubt he would be combatting an endless sea of men who might have more lecherous ideas. He had spoken sternly about keeping to herself, not drawing attention to herself beyond what would already be given. That if any man were to approach her, she would deny him.

The Princess of course, found her father’s worry amusing, the few times she had entertained men had only ever ended up with innocent mischief being made, and at times drunken affections… which were oft less innocent in nature.  But she was no fool as to lose her virtue before marriage, for she knew how such a thing impacted her mother and she had promised herself that her virtue was a pleasure in itself. That there is beauty in saving herself for the truest, purest of loves, as there is beauty in indulging in fleshly pleasure. Visenya was positive no man would attempt to accost her in such a manner, for if they did they would face the wrath of her mother and of course the looming threat of her rumoured father, Prince Daemon.

As she prepared herself to leave, she peeled the thick, black riding leathers from her frame, cringing at the particular scent of sweat and dragon that ruminated from them.  Visenya then doused the rag in the bowl of water, using the soap to scrub at any and all places which eluded to such a scent. Soon, she had changed her undergarments, and drew the scarlet shaded gown over her frame; it’s sleeves long and elaborate, intwining string which laced across her structured shoulders. Visenya then pulled a small vile of perfumed oil, from her trunk, dabbing it upon her skin and threading it through her hair. The contents of which filled the room with the smell of heady jasmine and musk, a recent gift from a nobleman in Lys.

As she left her chamber, she was accosted by Jace and Luke. Who swiftly grabbed her wrist pulling her along the corridors as they babbled about going back to the middle bailey to re visit where they trained as children.

 Once they reached those fateful steps, they let go and waved for her to join them in a busy yard below..

“Come. You can watch.” Jace beckoned, Luke stopping upon the steps to look up towards her.

Visenya shook her head, leaning against stone banister upon the mezzanine which overlooked the commotion below. The Princess cocked her head to the side, “I’ve just changed… I have little intention of getting myself filthy once more.”

“Of course…” Jacaerys shook his head, rolling his eyes as he let out an amused scoff, “Suit yourself then.”

With that, the two boys trotted down the steps, and Visenya looked upon the bustling yard below.  She watched with a hearty smile as her brothers made their way towards the wooden weaponry stand, Jace playfully swinging one of the swords at Lucerys. However, she noted the few people who glared at her brothers and the whispering that occurred in their presence. A slight anger rose in her belly, do these fat old Lord’s and Lady’s have little else to do but gossip?

She waited until a pair had noticed Visenya’s scowling from above, and smiled smugly when swiftly they turned their heads and went about their business. A small gathering had distracted the Princess, as it seemed there to be an on going sparring session in the far corner of the yard. The whipping of long silver hair catching her attention, and she noticed how her brothers had soon caught wind of the action, joining the crowd below.

The silver haired figure was lithe with lean thew and a tall frame all tightly contained in black leathers. He swiftly jostled the sword in his hand with a fine precision, but her eyes caught a familiar sight, that it was Ser Criston whom the figure dueled against. A cunt, though he may be, but a talented fighter indeed.

Criston swung his Morningstar, shattering the figure’s shield. He’s done for. Visenya thought. However, she raised her brow in intrigue as the figure discarded his shield with fierce aggression and then began striking. Perhaps not. She thought again, impressed by his fortitude. One after the other, a flash of steel and light locks before he ducked and turned – it was then when she felt her heart practically fall into her chest. The figures face sharp and aquiline, his skin pale… too pale. That familiar grey.

It was the black eye patch which was tightly fastened over his right eye which gave it away.

Aemond.

He continued on, fighting harshly and fiercely against Cole before finally, winning the duel. Visenya looked at her brothers below, hearing Aemond’s voice mutter something to them both as he had finally acknowledged the two young Princes’. Though something had told her, Aemond was well aware of their presence. Jace looked up at Visenya pleadingly, and it came as no surprise then when she looked back, she noticed Aemond’s gaze follow her brothers upwards.

For what could have only had been a second, they clocked each other. The Princess felt her eyes widen, shock, fear, anger, intrguie, digust; any and all emotion flooding through her in those fateful seconds. He noticed her, he took her in. He knew it was her. She tussled her hair back and looked away, pretending as though she hadn't recognized him.

Aemond narrowed his eye upon the Princess, scanning her briefly. He had only gazed upon her for a second, he tilted his head as if he was contemplating something before his attention was drawn to the incoming drawing of the heavy gates.

Visenya steadied her breath and watched as the gates opened with a heavy moan. If only to make matters worse, the arriving party was another headache in itself... Vaemond Velaryon.

○viii○

[exaltatuss]

"Ah. A bug is buzzing about devouring." A shrug.

"Need I remind how bugs are crunchy on the outside, while exquisitely soft and gooey on the inside?" Oh boy, here comes a certain Emanator of Voracity.

[illithilit]

Name a better relationship dynamic than an intense as hell Githyanki and their partner who is somehow just as insane as they are

[ashenwinds]

!!!! LOOK AT THIS DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN

I adore him ;v;

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Encounters - [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae, Niko, Kaiser, Ness, Otoya, Karasu, Reo

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc (I MEAN HEAVY. forgive me, it gets a bit better later chapts i swear), bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, etc.

 >Rin

Rin Itoshi was always overshadowed by his older brother, constantly being referred to as “Sae Itoshi’s lil bro”.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him

Even the girls at school were only interested in him for the fame

But you were “nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS 🤪🥺” (lord save me)

You’ve seen several of Rin’s games, including the most recent one. He wasn’t quite playing as well as he usually did, but this went relatively unnoticed by fans

After the game, you took a gamble and decided to approach the boy

“Hey… Rin Itoshi right? Great game!” she tried to optimistic and complement him

“...Huh?” He just stared 😭 “Who are you…??”

“We’re classmates…? I just wanted to say I really liked watching you play! That last move was amazing, I can see why you went down the left side instead of the right, with defense being so tight and all..” she was starting to regret talking to the dry boy and laughed awkwardly “Well… Good luck with your next game!” she bowed and left

Rin just kinda stood there ;v;

“Huh… someone actually was watching me…” Bro had the smallest smile on his face  

>Shidou

You and Sae were roommates, everything worked out pretty well between you two

In fact, half the time, he wasn’t even home. Like now, for instant, he was out on a business trip and wouldn’t be home for another day

So imagine your surprise when you were peacefully watching Chainsaw Man in the living room, and your front door flies open

In the doorway stood a tall tanned man with blonde hair and pink eyes

“SAE MY LOVEEEE~ IM HERE FOR YOU” The man practically chanted, you had no clue if he knew whether or not you were there 

He finally notices, and you two have a moment of awkwardnes

“... Wtf are you doing iN MY HOUSE???”

“WTF ARE YOU DOING IN SAE ITOSHI’S HOUSE??”

“WE’RE ROOMMATES?!?!”

“...Oh”

Mentally facepalming at this man’s stupidity- “Sae isn’t home right now, also how did you get in??”

Shidou just shrugged “There was a key under the doormat” he spun it around his finger

You looked this man up and down, tbh, if he was an intruder, there was no way you could take him “You’re Shidou Ryusei right? I remember you from one of Sae’s games…” you said, mentally recalling the guy scream about dopamine

“Yessirr~” he grinned “Best striker in the world right here!”

 You could do nothing but sigh as you reached for your popcorn and prepared to get back to watching, “the tan man will sort himself out…” you wished thought

His eyes shot to the screen as you resumed the show, “Are you watching Chainsaw Man?” he asked

“Yea…??”

“YOOO THAT’S MY FAV, LEMME JOIN IN”

And before you knew it, he was curled up beside you eating your popcorn as you two binged the night away

>Sae

Sae’s perfume had ran out recently, and he found himself strolling through the mall for a new one

You, on the other hand, were called in for a last minute shift in the store since your co-workers cancelled on you. So, here you were, sitting in your little store, all by yourself

That is, until a ashen-brown haired man walked in

The first thing Sae noticed is you. You in all your beauty, standing behind the desk, sifting through the perfumes

He wondered why you worked for a scent store and not a modeling agency. That was until he actually got closer. 

Your sweet smell embraced him, instantly feeling comfortable in the small store

“Hey, you sell perfumes, yea?” he asked, with a small tilt of his head

“Mhm! One for every occasion, how can I help you?” you replied with a warm smile

“An everyday sort of thing. Nothing too strong…”

You thought for a bit, then one particular scent came to mind, you shuffled through the store to get it “Here, try this one.” 

It was a simple one with a slightly stronger undertone. It was a bit on the pricey side, but seeing how he was dressed, you were sure he could afford it

He tried it out on his wrist, and b the look on his face, you could tell he liked it

“Hm. Quite nice, I think I’ll take it.” he handed you back the bottle with a nod “Actually, I’ll take two.”

You smiled, just happy to make some sales “Great! I’ll get that packed for you.”

You bagged the two perfumes and handed it to him with a bow “Thank you for your purchase! Please come again!”

Sae walked out the door feeling much lighter than before, “It must be the perfume…” he thought, but why was it that he wished to know your name… 

>Niko

He comes and asks you to join his soccer team (Niko 11)

You had heard about what happened in one of the other classes, a boy named Niko had challenged the soccer team to a duel in 100 days. From your knowledge, Niko was not one to put himself out there “hm. Those Yu-Gi-Oh cards must mean a lot to them…” you though “Surely I won’t get dragged into this… right??”

Oh how wrong you were. You knew that he was recruiting teammates, and being one of the fastest people on the track and field team, it only made sense that he came to find you

Niko knew that you were pretty, but he didn’t know you were that pretty. Especially now that he was standing in front of you. “Uh- Hi….” he tired to keep his composure 

“...Hello, Niko, right? I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna ask…” You said, looking the boy up and down. His face was tinted with a bit of blush, it was clear the boy was not used to talking to people

“Y-Yea…” He muttered, he couldn’t tell if you were happy or not “So then- would you be willing to play on a soccer team with me?”

The way those teal eyes looked at yours, you just could not say no ;)

>Kaiser

Ness has been spending less time with him, and he’s wondering why. He soon finds out it’s you

“HUH?? What do you mean you’re ‘busy’ tomorrow??.” Kaiser demanded an answer from the poor boy.

“I-uhm… I’m going out with a friend…” the magenta boy gave him a weak smile “You should come with, I think you two would get along great!” 

Kaiser only rolled his eyes and scoffed “Your ‘friend’?? You mean the same one you’ve been texting for the past TWO WEEKS???”

Ness flinched “Y-Yea…” he looked up at kaiser “Is there a problem with that?”

Kaiser glared at him. Usually Ness would bow his head and spit out a thousand apologies. This new found “rebellion” was NOT supposed to happen. “It’s probably the doing of that ‘friend’ of his…” The blue haired boy thought

“Fine.” he looked Ness in his eyes “Let me meet them. Let’s see if they really are worthy of my prescance.”  

>Ness

He’s sent to a vending machine by Kaiser to fetch some food, but he forgot his wallet. Lucky, you’re a decent person :D 

“Ness.” Kaiser glared at the scared boy “Get me a drink. Anything but milk. Go.”

“I-Yessir!” Ness bowed before running off. Kaiser was in a bad mood, he didn’t want it to get any worse.

“A drink… where’s the vending machine…??” He looked around. And finally, he found one.

He leaned on the glass of the machine, catching his breath. “Hm. An energy drink maybe?? Or does he want some juice… no no, he had juice this morning. An energy drink it is.” he said to himself and reached for his wallet

“... oh sh1t-” 

Ness had been in such a rush that he forgot to bring money. He feel to his knees and let out a silent cry of despair

You, on the other hand, stood right behind him, trying to contain your laugh from the events unfolding in front of you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop a small chuckle from escaping, which you quickly tired coved

“Uh- Are you… alright??” you looked the boy up and down. He stared at you, eyes wide and mouth agape 

How could he embarrass himself in front of someone so pretty!! He covered his face with his hands, still on the floor.

You could only laugh “Forgot your wallet right? Here, let me pay” you felt kinda bad for the boy, but also slightly amused, which just made you feel worse.

You could practically see stars in his eyes. 

As you paid for the drink, he gave a grateful bow “Thank you so much, you saved me!” and before you knew it, he ran off

You could only shake your head and laugh at the interaction 

>Otoya

^Reader is assigned Otoya for secret Santa, and reluctantly gets him some gifts. He’s quite shocked when you get him things he actually likes

“Otoya” The teacher called, “Your Secret Santa gift.”

“Oh?” the boy took the gift from her hands. It was a gently wrapped box with a feeble attempt of a bow, which he could only laugh at. He noticed that the wrapping paper used was a green that was similar to the streak in his hair, and the ribbons to the rest. He had never seen such a carefully packaged gift. Even the ones he had gotten from his girlfriends exes were usually lame store bought ones.

That's why when opening the gift, he was so careful to not tear the paper.

As the teacher went around passing the other gifts around, Otoya opened his box and inspected the contents 

Inside he found 2 churros (his favourite), a set of headphones (he broke his a few days ago), a small phoenix (his favourite animal) figure, and a handwritten note.

He wondered who could know him this well, to have gotten him such personalized gifts. He deduced that it could only be his best bud, Karasu.

“Yo” Otoya approached the crow boy “thanks for the gift.”

Karasu could only stare “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything… sorry”

Otoya showed him the box “These, did you not get them for me?” he was confused.

Karasu picked up the letter “Why don’t you try reading it? Maybe it’ll tell you who it is”

The white haired boy neatly tore open the note and read it.

“Hm. It’s nothing but a simple ‘Merry Christmas!’ and whatnot…” he muttered. Now he kinda wanted to know who it was from 

Karasu took the card and analyzed the handwriting “Oh. That’s their writing” the observer said and pointed at you, watching them from across the room

“Ungrateful brat…” you swore under your breath, of course Otoya thought it was from Karasu. But come on, you hated getting gifts for a fboy like him. You should’ve at least got some credit

you sighed and left the classroom, considering that you got a crappy candle as your Secret Santa gift, you were pretty frustrated

Otoya caught up to you outside the room “Hey, [Y/N] right? Thank you for the gift” he flashed the best smile he could manage

“Yea…” you muttered, still sad about your candle “Hope you like it… Least you didn’t get something lame like this…” you turned the saran wrapped gift in your hands “Actually, how do you know my name? I’ve always tried to avoid you…”

“Oh uh…” he laughed awkwardly “I was your Secret Santa…”

>Karasu

You take notes very interestingly, using a different font for every subject. He tries to decode one of your notes, you catch him in the act and teach him

You always had a silly habit of encrypting your notes. They were simple observations you made on your classmates, but if anyone read them, you might be in a bit of trouble…

“Nagi keeps looking at Isagi… But isn’t he with Reo??” you quickly noted, automatically translating into your encryption. It wasn’t anything too complicated, it was pretty easy to get used to, it was just for an extra layer of protection. Surely once someone saw it was encrypted, they’d just give up reading it… right??

Wrong :p 

Karasu had been watching you write these for quite a while, but couldn’t figure out the pattern. But he never had the chance to actually see one up close

And that’s why he took the chance after class while you were in the bathroom.

He quickly pulled out your notebook from your bag, and flipped it open. He sat on the desk and got to work, trying to figure out the code

“Could it be numerical… no- that wouldn’t work…” he muttered to himself, unaware of the figure standing behind him

To be honest, you found this quite amusing. The class analyzer struggling to decode your notes. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

The look of fear and shock on this mans face as he turned to face you, it only made you laugh harder

“LMAOOOO- having a hard time, Mr. Genius?” you teased 

Karasu could only frown “Shut it…”

You smiled, and decided that this was too funny of a story you could tell your friends later. It was only fair you taught him your encryption in return

You sat down on the desk beside him, and started pointing out the pattern

He seemed to finally get it, everything clicked together like a puzzle in his mind “Ohhh, I get it. That’s really dope.” 

You could only laugh “I know right?”

>Reo

He’s practicing his soccer at school, and you stop by and judge him. You then point out everything he’s doing wrong, and leave. Man is stunned XD

You were just grabbing a drink from the vending machine before you left the school campus to go to your soccer team’s practice. 

Being in such a prestigious school meant only academic extracurriculars were provided, you you had to play club

As you grabbed your drink from the slot, a sound caught your attention. “That���s definitely the sound of a soccer ball…” you thought to yourself, having heard that sound several times “Who from this school would play soccer??”

You walked towards the campus exit, which just so happened to be the same direction as the field. And there he was, a purple haired boy, practicing his shots on a make-shift goal. 

You recognize him as Reo Mikage, I mean, the whole school knew him. You decided to get a better view and move closer

Upon further observation, it was clear that he was new to the sport, you could help but feel a bit bad as you laughed

Reo turned to you the second he heard your tease. He frowned “What.”

You composed yourself “Sorry sorry, I was just… admiring your soccer… skills. Yes.” You said, sounding more unsure of yourself than he was of you

He scoffed, “Please, what do you know about soccer?”

“Enough to be a starter on a good team” you shrugged smugly “You on the other hand… You could work on your passing. The ball’s trajectory changes every time, try making contact with the ball on a more consistent spot, and put more speed in it. Also- when you dribble, make sure to at least be somewhat aware of the field in front of you. I could take that ball off you instantly.” you laughed and left, remembering you still had practice to go to.

Reo on the other hand, was left there stunned, “No way… Someone else here plays soccer!” He made a mental note to find you tomorrow, before packing up. 

A/N: I GENINUNESLY HAD 2 STROKES RE-READING THIS-