#as we share too much and some share even more than i tolerate which is a great deal considering i would n rather be nothing

[simonstamenovic]

i am aware that anonymous messages are easily identifiable unless i make the effort to type differently however the lack of a face is more appealing

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 1

Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Flirting, Light Angst, Longing

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?

A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 4.8K

The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable. 

On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply. 

“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile. 

Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”

All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion. 

He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”

Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features. 

“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”

A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.” 

You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.” 

“Teasing minx.” 

“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained. 

You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal? 

It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious. 

“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.” 

Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile. 

A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”

“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”

The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”

Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”

She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”

“Guilty.”

“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”

You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.” 

Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do.  Thirty minute set. You eat after.” 

She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain. 

It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining. 

“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you. 

“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.” 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.” 

“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered. 

“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.” 

You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach. 

He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you. 

Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.

A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him.  You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more. 

It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you. 

A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight. 

With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room. 

You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed. 

As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience. 

Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring. 

Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.  

Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room. 

Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter. 

Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared. 

You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest. 

He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink. 

You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it. 

A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song. 

You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony. 

You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.

Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended. 

You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace.  By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this. 

As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin. 

“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”

“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”

“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”

You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.” 

The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”

The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.

“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”

He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips. 

You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least. 

“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”

You snorted out a laugh.

“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”

You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.” 

He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.” 

You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning. 

He raised a tankard to you in toast.

You met the gesture in acknowledgment. 

“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted. 

You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun. 

“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.” 

You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same. 

“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”

You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.

He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”

Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.” 

It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life. 

You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.  

“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed. 

You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.  

           “I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended. 

Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.” 

“Says you.” 

“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”

“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”

“Oh yes, that’s much better.”

You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away. 

Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be. 

“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject. 

“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned. 

Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.” 

Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.” 

You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were. 

“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”

You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder. 

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.” 

You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay. 

“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”

She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it. 

“What is this?”

“It was my father���s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”

You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces. 

With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings. 

It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.

Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes. 

It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.  

The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest. 

You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right. 

Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond. 

“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”

“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands. 

The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”

Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”

She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”

You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions. 

Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin. 

You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons. 

The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.

The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence. 

You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries. 

The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been. 

You took another step. 

The stones followed. 

Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling. 

A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench. 

As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor. 

The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music. 

You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp. 

You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music. 

Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller. 

No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream. 

You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.

Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again. 

You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes. 

Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself. 

An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else.  Even the music had gone dead. 

For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark. 

A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin.  No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.

The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe. 

A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air. 

You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles. 

The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence. 

With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own. 

You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism. 

The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.

He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle. 

After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.

The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light. 

The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you. 

You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you.  He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure. 

His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.

He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. 

The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin. 

You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago.  Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression. 

They’d seen it. All of it. 

Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think. 

Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood. 

You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye. 

“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said. 

To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head. 

“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party. 

There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction. 

Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale. 

“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. 

“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently. 

“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added. 

Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything. 

“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.

“What?” she snapped. 

Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. 

“That was…me?” 

You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.

In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible. 

“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.” 

You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you. 

Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity. 

The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing? 

You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be. 

Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet. 

As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you. 

You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.

With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.

[glitchtricks94]

TWST Guys Bringing You Home!: Heartslabyul Edition

Welcome to part one, I'm planning on writing all the dorms + Idia. Ortho will just be included with him, personally, since Ortho is too adorable to ever defile in any manner outside of being a cute little brother. Headcannons, headcannons, headcannons! Let's start this off with some cottoncandy fluff, shall we? Not gonna lie, I felt like a mom gushing about all her chaos children over tea writing this. I hope you enjoy these headcannons, and let me know your thoughts. I love interaction and would love to hold a conversation with you guys. Anyways, sit back, relax and have fun. -Glitchtricks Word count: 4k

Ace Trappola

Oh, this is such a delight to see. Little Ace is in love! Ace is super awkward and very defensive, and yet somehow little ol' you broke down all those walls of arrogance and faux confidence, such a special darling you are. So, how would he be if he decided to bring you home to meet his family?

Two words: Nervous. Wreck. Ace is a disaster before bringing you home to meet his brother and father; he's sweating, internally screaming, his anxiety is spiked, and you have to handle everything with your usual grace. Ace has some bad anxiety, which he confided that he coped with it by being all snarky with everyone, i.e. being a dick way too often. You didn't mind though, but you did gently encourage him to come to you if he felt too overwhelmed by everything, just in case he needed to vent. How sweet! There was a lot of texting back and forth, nights cuddling on your near dinosaur era furnishings of Ramshackle, and plenty of kisses on his temples, Ace had calmed down enough to not feel like an anchor was being dropped on his chest at the thought of bringing you home. He was ready to announce you as his to his family!

Oh dear, sweet Seven, he couldn't have predicted any of what happened... First, his brother decided to do the worst thing ever and brought up Ace's old view on dating and how his first girlfriend got ghosted. Ace wanted to die then and there, even being collared by Riddle was more tolerable than this hell... "Hey, (Y/N), you know my baby bro here had a gal before you, right?" "Oh? He did?" You said, your pretty eyes widening. "He's never mentioned her before..." "Dude, please, don't...!" Ace quietly pleaded, humiliation seeping in like a cold rain. "Yeah, he went out a few times with this one girl in middle school. She'd always go to amusement parks with him and stuff, topping it off with a Ferris wheel, but he ghosted her." Ace's brother continued, sipping on his tea. "And why's that?" You prodded, sipping your own tea as you shot a small glare at your boyfriend. You shared stories of your exes, but why didn't he? Did he not trust you? You didn't know whether you should feel hurt, or pissed. You chose to feel pissed. "Got bored, 'cording to him, she was just bland beyond her coffee tastes and liked a lot of stuff that just didn't click with him. She was pretty, but had as much depth as a piece of paper." The elder Trappola explained. "Her friends called him out for his shit, and he swore off dating, too much of a hassle in his opinion, so I'm surprised he decided to go out with you, much less bring you home." "I see." You hummed. Ace knew he was in the dog house and was now preparing to ask Sam if he sold flowers and romance stuff to try and make it up to you when you both got back to Night Raven.

Well, at least pop likes you! Can't wait to have you as an in-law! During dinner, Ace's dad smiled and chatted all about his boys, saying how proud he was of Ace for bringing home such a sweetheart like you! You ended up forgetting the upsetting conversation from earlier given how jovial Mr. Trappola was, he was like that one cool uncle that was trusted with looking after the baby, or that one cool barbeque dad your friends might have. Card tricks were shared, food was eaten and conversation was exchanged, if at a little of your boyfriend's expense. Funny stories were shared, like that one time he accidentally hit his brother in the groin with a bat as a kid when he came home for the holidays, or that time Ace got pranked by his dad with a classic; pouring soap on his head while he was rinsing out his own lather. "My hair was never as silky as it was after that." Ace laughed, starting to loosen up as he threw his arm around your shoulder. You leaned over and pecked his cheek, making both your faces bloom red as you both grinned happily. Overall, you're basically already known as the best in-law ever even before Ace put a ring on it. He's already planning how to ask a few years down the line, though~!

Deuce Spade

Another cute boy, who's mildly awkward when in love. Oh, how sweet! He took a lot of time learning how to properly approach you. didn't he? Deuce is beaming with pride having you on his arm, smiling that cute little boy smile he shows off when he's excited. He loves holding your hand in his as you stroll about the rose gardens of Heartslabyul. You knew he was close to his mom, having ditched his old delinquent days after hearing her crying on the phone to his grandmother, and he often talked about you to her, sometimes while you were sitting right there! Oh, how your cheeks reddened hearing him spout compliments about you to his mother. Both you and Deuce were arranging to meet his mom and grandma, in fact Deuce wanted to introduce you as soon as possible! You're one of the most important people in his life, so he wanted to share you with his familial circle asap. So, how does this all go?

Oh, honey, grandma practically fell in love with you on first sight. You met Deuce's grandma and mom at the same time, the two sitting at the dining room table in Ms. Spade's home, sipping away on their tea. It was a little awkward with Ms. Spade, but granny practically pounced on you when Deuce said you were his significant other. She was just smiling up at you, going on about how much of a cutie you were the whole while. It was quite nice, talking over tea, Deuce smiling happily as he had an arm respectfully wrapped around your waist. Needless to say, mom relaxed a bit seeing how her mother was reacting alongside her baby boy.

Deuce didn't know why he didn't expect the baby pictures to be brought out... Baby books, baby books and more baby books. You were surprised by the sheer amount that Deuce's mother loved to do scrapbooking, it was like there was a mountain of baby books from when your sweet card soldier was growing up! There had to be about six books sitting on the coffee table. Everyone had gathered into the living room after tea, Ms. Spade excitedly flitting about the place like a child on sugar, gathering all these books to stack, Deuce slowly turning red seeing his old baby books being yanked out again. You sat next to Deuce, holding his hand with your fingers interlaced. "Here's when Deuce was two, he always played with his food, he was such a messy baby!" Ms. Spade gushed, showing off a picture of baby Deuce smiling up at the camera; baby food was smeared all over his smiling face, his hands caked in the stuff and the bowl on his little head, his pretty jade colored orbs shimmering with joy. "His little smile is infectious!" You chirped, smiling warmly at the picture of your darling boyfriend. Deuce buried his head in your hair, hiding from his embarrassment.

Deuce felt like melting into your embrace at this point. You made his night. After a fun dinner filled with embarrassing stories from when Deuce was young, warm hearty laughter and sweet gazes exchanged with your boyfriend, the two of you settled into bed, you sneaking out of the guest room grandma insisted you stay in to steal some kisses and snuggles. You settled into Deuce's arms as he kissed your rosy cheeks, tangling your legs with his under the covers. Looking into his eyes, you've never seen him look so happy since he got an 86 on his history exam. "I love you so much, baby." Deuce whispered sweetly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I love you too, honey." You replied, your own voice laced with the sugar of your love for the jade eyed boy. "I wanna say thanks for coming with me to meet my mom and grandmother, it meant a lot to me." "Deucey, it's no trouble!" You chirped softly, smiling up at your lover. "I'm just happy they like me." "They love you, you fit perfectly into the family!" Deuce laughed, his shoulders shaking. "It's honestly a relief that you get along, I was scared things would go wrong. But, I guess I panicked for nothing." The navy haired first year continued, turning to gaze at you with so, so much love. "You're perfect after all." Deuce was gonna be the death of you, he was always so sweet. You could mark this day as a sweet, sweet success: Your boyfriend was happy, grandma loves you, mom thinks you're perfect for her son, and everything felt like utter bliss. So, without saying another word, you sealed your night with Deuce with a kiss...~

Cater Diamond

Cater being in love honestly isn't surprising; being in love is such brand booster! Cute Magicam couples? Yes please! Being real though, Cater's honestly a major handful for you, because under that cheery "Caycay is gonna slayslay" vibe that the 3rd year carries, he's honestly a complete wreck and is terrified that you'll get tired of his anticks. Shocking how he and Azul aren't besties in that regard. However, he had no need to fear! The marvelous S/O was here to save the day: Cuddles, kisses, spicy ramen and at home spa treatments were being rapid fired from your heart to claim Cater's love and destroy his anxiety! So, with the day saved, you and your lovely boyfriend could be free to talk about a tough topic; when are you gonna meet his family? Cater ended up laughing at your question and told you to start packing your bag, he's going to talk Crowley into letting you have a weekend getaway! Even if he disliked his sisters!

Already he was regretting life... Cater's sisters immediately burst out to greet their baby brother after his mom called, and the first thing they do? Tell you that your shirt is super not cute and Cater should go buy you another one. "It's what a good boyfriend would do!" The eldest sister said, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah! It's what our boyfriends did!" His other sister chimed in. Cater was here less than five seconds and already he felt like blowing a gasket... "But this is my favorite shirt. That I bought myself." You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't get to tell me what to wear, so shush." "Way to stand up for yourself, honey bunny~!" Cater chirped, smiling at you as he led you inside with an arm around your waist. The ginger boy swore he fell even harder than when he first started dating you in that moment.

Cater was internally screaming at how his sisters acted and just wanted to go home. Oh, and mom didn't really like you, so there's that. The room was a bit tense as you sat and shared tea and some lightly burned pastries made by Cater's sisters. Cater himself was suffering the overly sweet baked goods and planned to just spend the after noon there. "So, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. Diamond asked, eying you with a sharpened gaze. "Oh, I met him at Night Raven. My friend had gotten into a predicament and I ran into him while he was painting his dorm's roses!" You explained, a warm smile coming to your face as your boyfriend started to blush softly. "He was so cute and charming, still is, honestly." "Awww, babes, stop!" Cater giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his, making you laugh in turn. "I see." His mother huffed. The rest of the time was awkward to say the least.

You could tell your boyfriend could finally breathe after you left the house. Dad wasn't around that day, bit too busy with his banking job, so you didn't get to meet him; not that you really cared, Cater's sisters ruined a good chunk of the afternoon and made your poor honey work himself to the bone! Cater dropped the cheap, fake smile on his face when you both made it out of the house, his anger flaring up as he started muttering various rants under his breath. "Caycay, do you wanna get some lunch? There's a nice ramen place we could go to." You gently suggested, wanting to make your sweetheart feel better and ease his stresses. "It's that reaaally nice one you saw on Magicam the other day. The one that Vil praised" "That...That sounds wonderful honey bunny." Cater sighed, looking at you with a tired grin. Without much thought, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart flutter. So over lunch, you both came to terms that the fam might not dig on you, but that didn't matter to you or Cater. You had each other, and that's what mattered most to you two lovebirds.

Trey Clover

You have such a good man on your hands, even if he's a touch shy with his affections. When you first broached the topic of meeting his family, Trey was taken aback. He adored you to no end, and he could see a future with you, even if it'd be long distance for a few years, why hadn't he thought of showing you off to his family? "Of course I'll introduce you, darling." He said with a warm smile, leaning down to press a peck on your cheek, "How about we visit this upcoming weekend? I'm sure Riddle can hold it together long enough."

It was a really sweet reception when you showed up. Trey's parents were told about you ahead of time by their eldest, given how he's the responsible boy he is, so you were greeted by a small banner and a custom cupcake in your favorite flavors. The banner that was hung read "welcome home!" in bold, glittering rainbow letters; it tickled you pink! You felt at home already when Trey walked you up to the bakery, and the feeling intensified when his little siblings ran over, cheering over their big brother being home and asking if you were the person mom and dad talked about on the phone with Trey. Already you loved Trey's family, they were adorable in your eyes! "I hope you're ready for the insanity that's my family." Trey playfully remarked, pulling laughter from everyone around him. You hugged your boyfriend with a smile on your face. "I look forward to every minute we stay here."

Trey loved baking alongside you, but you and his family? Talk about heaven! Trey had to help out in the family business still, given his parents ran a bakery that had opened for lunch, so alongside the sweet smells of cake, the occasional smell of crisping pepperonis and melting cheese filled your senses. You found it odd at first, but your boyfriend's father swiftly explained that a demand for some more dinner and lunch friendly goods should be offered and they complied, if only a touch. You were surprised by how willing Trey's parents were when offering your help to ease the rush, helping your darling make and top some sugar cookies with oversized chocolate chips. You ended up swiping kisses from your boyfriend while his mom worked the front of house and his dad prepared the pizzas to be sent out. It seemed the more homely setting brought out the more affectionate side of your lover; small coos of adoration left his lips, tiny kisses peppered your cheeks, and skin to skin contact was through the roof as he guided you by taking your hands into his. It was all so romantic and sweet.

It had to be a bittersweet departure after your little weekend of fun was over, but everyone loved you. You had your bags packed back up with Trey, the luggage sitting in the foyer as you ate a delightful breakfast, feeling right at home as you sat next to your beloved. Trey was holding your hand under the table as you two dug into the fluffy blueberry pancakes his mom and dad had made for everyone, one of his little brothers quickly getting your attention. "(Y/N)?" The little boy called out quietly. "Yes, little one?" You asked, your voice a soft coo. The 3rd year glanced over at you as you interacted with his baby brother, watching carefully. "Will you come back with our big brother again soon?" "Well, that depends on both me and your big brother, dear. I'd love to, though!" You replied, flashing a smile to the little guy, who hugged you. "I'm gonna miss you..." He whined. "Me two!" Trey's sister piped up. "Me thwee!" The youngest chimed in, Trey and his parents chuckling at your interactions. "You have quite the partner here, Trey." His father spoke, looking at his son in pride. "You really do, sweetie, you better try and hold onto them!" Trey's mother spoke, smiling warmly. "They're a keeper!" "I know." Trey replied, looking at you now hugging his younger siblings, warmth bubbling in his chest. "I plan to treat them right." Overall, you had a new home in the Clover family, and your boyfriend's thinking of ways to properly propose to you after the trip. Never hurts to plan it out!

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh god, oh no, this one hurts. This will never ever end well if he picks the S/O... You knew Riddle had some problems he was trying to work through, you understood, truly! And Riddle was eternally grateful for your presence and influence in his life, you had to be the best thing to ever happen to him! You were his angel sent from the stars. Which is why he dreaded introducing you to his mother. He knew his father would've been okay, and he honestly has zero issues showing you off to him! If he was actually at home that is...He was currently abroad when Riddle accidentally let it slip that he was dating. So, in came the demands to meet you to make sure you were good enough for her baby, and the news that you two were going to his house for dinner.

You both had pits in your stomachs when you showed up to the Rosehearts household... You were greeted by the intimidating visage of Riddle's mother, who was standing in the yard with her arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes boring into you. "Hello, mother." Riddled greeted, closing himself off to your presence and tensing up, his shoulders stiff; a telltale sign that he was stressed. You had to bite back the urge to coo and coddle him like you normally did when he was upset. "Riddle." His mother hummed looking at you with disdain. "Why is your...companion here dressed like that?" She asked sharply, making you feel embarrassed. You had asked Rook of all people to style you, but it appears it's simply not up to par with the impossible standard's Mrs. Rosehearts held. "We had asked one of our fellow classmates to dress them in the finest clothes they had available." Riddle spoke. Riddle's mother tsked. "I thought that I raised you better than this, they look terribly tacky, and I thought you would've had better tastes. Come. Dinner is waiting now." Riddle clenched his fists, feeling sorrow well up in his chest as he looked at you apologetically. You rushed forward, hugging Riddle from behind and kissing his cheek to reassure him. It was still quite the sting hearing his mother act so harsh, though.

Dinner wasn't much better either... You made sure to study proper etiquette with Riddle before you came here, but none of that seemed to matter as you choked down the bland food. Seriously, who doesn't bother to season meet and just serve nothing but tomatoes, onions and iceberg lettuce for a salad...? You tried your best, but Mrs. Rosehearts just eyed you in disgust, biting her tongue but looking at Riddle with a disappointed gaze. Riddle himself couldn't tell if sorrow or anger was bubbling up in his chest. You explained you were from another world when she asked where you were from and she looked at you like you just spat on her when you told her you were magicless; despite her already knowing that. She made Riddle tell her about you after making him nearly break down in tears over the phone last night. "Pathetic! I raised my son better than this, and yet you're barely passing, have no magic, and carry no knowledge of anything worthwhile! You're nothing but a waste of his time and my own!" The harpy of a woman shrieked. Oh, that was it, he picked his side of the fence...

Riddle felt a cord finally snap as all of his years of strict, lonely suffering drove him forward. "Why can't you just be happy that I finally found someone, mother?" Riddle hissed, catching the attention of his present parent. "Because, your selection was terrible! I could pick you a much better partner." Mrs. Rosehearts said, you feeling like you could start crying. "No! I-I don't want anyone else, much less an arrangement where I'll feel nothing for the other party!" Riddle barked angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he stood up. "I want who I fell in love with! I want my rose! I want to stay with (Y/N)!" "When will you see that you're worth more than them?!" "They've been nothing short of an angel to me, fixing the damage you caused!" Riddle yelled, his face bright red from anger. "They're worth far more than me from where I stand!" "Then you can just take that garbage and get them out of this house, you and I will start studying to find you a suitable-" "If they leave, I'm leaving with them, in fact, that's a wonderful idea!" Riddle bellowed, you looking up at him and rising from your seat. Rushing to his side, you tugged him out of the house as Riddle's mother screamed at you two from the kitchen and out the door, Riddle yelling that she won't take you away; he's had so much stripped from him, he refuses to lose you. This entire situation was a disaster, but you knew your precious prince loved you so dearly. Once you two made it back to his dorm, Riddle looked exhausted. You asked him what you could do to ease his struggles after he changed into his pajamas. "My rose, tonight, I just want to forget everything, rules and all..." Riddle whined, looking at you with tired slate grey orbs. "I just want to hold you in my arms and wake up to your face..." "Of course, my love." You cooed softly, kissing his cheeks as you both crawled under the covers of his bed, Riddle curling into your form instantly. Under the warmth of the duvet, everything felt right; you were his and he was yours, and no tyrant was ever going to rip you apart. Riddle had proven his iron clad love belonged to you and you alone.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Honey]

Your words can bite so hard, and your eyes can glare harsher than the sun- but there's a certain hint of sweetness hiding behind that armor you wear, and it sticks to Jungkook's heart like honey.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, scolding, mild Angst but with happy end

Length: 3.6k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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The next morning, you're almost entirely hidden underneath your blanket- a pile of cat, still visibly upset with the new sleeping arrangement even while unconscious.

Jungkook feels a bit bad- he wants to maybe help you feel at least a little more at ease with him, but he's got no clue what he could really do- so he just hopes that you somehow at least accept it for now, after realizing that Jimin and Yoongi will both not cave into your wish to sleep with your owner instead of the dog hybrid.

"Ah Jungkook. Good morning." Jimin greets him, and Jungkook's tail instinctively wags, making the human smile brightly. He's currently making himself some coffee while Yoongi is already sitting at the small table, browsing something on his phone before he locks it and sets it down.

"Is she up too?" He asks Jungkook, who shakes his head.

"I think she went to sleep late. She was pretty upset the entire night.." Jungkook mumbles, and Jimin sighs.

"Let's let her sleep then-" He starts, but Yoongi shakes his head, earning an almost pleading look from Jimin.

"No." Yoongi denies. "I don't care who wakes her up, but she's getting up. If she wants to sleep longer, she should've went to bed on time when everyone else did." He says, and even Jungkook now lowers his ears, feeling a bit bad for you. Yoongi is a bit harsh sometimes, and tends to be a little strict, but you're not used to that. It feels a bit much to dump that all onto you right away, in his opinion.

"..alright." Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair, before he leaves to wake you up.

"Don't you think you're a bit.. too harsh?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down across from his owner and friend at the table. "I mean, she seemed really upset last night.." He says quietly, listening to some sounds coming from his shared room with you, presumably you getting up and ready for the day.

Yoongi doesn't answer, and so Jungkook just sighs to himself, awkwardly waiting for you to emerge together with Jimin- which you do, still visibly upset, practically hiding away from Yoongi's sight. Jungkook is convinced that at this rate, you'll just end up hating his owner more than him at the end of this trip- and he's not sure if that's gonna be any better for Yoongi and Jimin. After all, the plan is to just somehow get them all to at least tolerate each other- but he himself can't see that happening like this.

And it doesn't get better when you refuse to eat anything for breakfast, simply sitting next to Jungkook with your arms crossed and an angry glare. "You're staying behind if you refuse to eat." Yoongi threatens nonchalantly, and your eyes harden even further, ears pinned back.

"I'm not a child." You growl, causing Jungkooks skin to tingle from the amount of anger you radiate next to him, the air heavy with the scent of your fury. It makes him nervous, to say the least. He's always been pretty sensitive to other's feelings, after all.

"You're surely acting like one." Yoongi responds back with no clear emotion, as he looks at you. He surely has the looks to pass as a cat hybrid, even without ears and a tail- but you'd never accept him as one. He's a traitor, he's the main reason your perfect little world has tilted, he's the cause of you surely having to go back to the shelter soon, just because he wants to fuck your owner. And you hate it. You hate him.

"We can get a snack or something in the town though, right?" Jungkook says, trying to soothe the situation- something Jimin seems to pick up on, eagerly latching onto that chance of problem solving.

"Yeah! There's a mall in the town, we can surely eat something there." Jimin nods, not leaving Yoongi any chance to argue as he gets up and puts the dishes in the sink.- Jungkook rising from his seat as well to help and also escape the situation.

Well- this is certainly going to be an eventful day.

At the mall, the mood clearly lifts quite a bit- you're way too busy looking at all the displays and storefronts to really care much about Yoongi's sour attitude, which also has lightened partially due to Jimin's charming attitude towards him. It's a breath of fresh air for everyone- though Jungkook isn't sure when he was put on babysitting duty when it comes to you, trailing after you to make sure you won't get lost.

You don't really acknowledge him, and he's fine with that. All of it gives him a little bit of a chance to observe you more, and paint a clearer picture of you. Because he's convinced that you're not actually mean or a bad person- you're probably just worried, or scared. And he knows that cat hybrids tend to lash out when they feel threatened or cornered. He's seen it time and time again. And he hopes that maybe he can witness you opening up to him as well- one day.

Though right now, he's reminded of his own issues- as he walks past a small group of friends bunny hybrids clearly intimidated by his presence, something you look at from the side, before you search for a bottle of juice you want it seems like. You stand out amongst the people even though your outfit isn't all that colorful- but it's still just uniquely you, frills and patterns and bows all adorable on you.

Although your high heeled mary janes don't really help reaching his height at all, down the line. You're not even a hand-length taller than any of the bunny hybrids currently talking in a hushed tone with their large brown eyes staring at him, before they pass you, almost as if to escape. You look after them, before you take a small bottle of mango juice for yourself, walking towards the cash register- and he notices the way you now look back, as if to check if he follows. He does- though a bit slower now.

He doesn't really want people to think he's stalking you or anything.

His hybrid breed and overall appearance intimidates people a lot- mostly other hybrids, and he knows this, painfully so. He doesn't mean to come off as this- and in the past, he really tried to look as friendly as he could, with colorful sweaters and shorter hair to make sure his face would never be hidden from view. But he quickly realized that he can't change the way he's being perceived. He's always been the big bad dog- and that stigma will forever stick with him no matter where he goes. So he decided to be and appear the way he wanted to- got himself tattoos and started to dress in a more comfortable, though very dark style, while also growing out his hair.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect him anymore.

After paying for your bottle of juice, you stand in front of the small convenience store, the bunny hybrids still watching him with their intense looks, and Jungkook feels himself become overly conscious of just how many people are around him. It makes him nervous. Does he make others nervous too? How many people are looking at him right now, just waiting for him to make a mistake?

Suddenly, something cold hits his bare arm, once, then again. He looks to the side, spots the tips of your cat ears which ware turned one towards him, and one backwards towards the bunnies, though your eyes are simply looking to the side, as you hold out the bottle. "Uh.. for me?" He wonders, caught off guard, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"No, dumb dog-" You mumble, tapping your foot impatiently. "-open it. I can't." you admit, and only now does he spot the way one of your palms seems to be an angry red, probably from the force of you trying to unscrew the cap. He takes the bottle from you, opens it with ease, before he gives the bottle to you, cap still in his hand. You drink slowly, probably because the liquid must be pretty cold, a drop from the condensation on the outside of the plastic container falling right into your cleavage, and he averts his gaze in respect for you, instead noticing something else.

The bunnies are still looking at him. So is a young couple with a small dog hybrid child. But they're not looking at him with worry, or fear, or anything-

the bunnies seem almost shy now, watching him with sparkling eyes of wonder. The puppy hybrid laughs, the mother having a warm smile on her lips, her striped cat tail softly curling over her lap while her husband chuckles next to her. And then you clear your throat, before you hold out the bottle to Jungkook again- who screws the sap back on, and decides to hold it for you. You're not thanking him at all, and he doesn't expect you to.

He doesn't need you to.

Because he realizes what you just did. You didn't just demand him to open a bottle- you could've done that right after paying for the beverage, but you did it almost strategically in this rather open and exposed spot. To show off- to show that Jungkook isn't a big bad dog at all.

And as you walk back, he falls a bit into his own mind, thinking of how to repay you that act of kindness- because he's always been like that. He can't help but feel the need to not be in someone elses debt- something Yoongi has taught him not to do. You're just on your way back however, when Jungkook realizes something he didn't notice while he was stuck deep in thought-

you're no longer in sight. He can't see you- can't smell you. You've vanished.

And he's panicking, because in front of him, he can see both Jimin and Yoongi, who seemingly haven't noticed your absence yet, Jimin happily waving him over. Jungkook feels his heart drop- how is he going to explain that he lost you? "Where's-" Jimin starts, and Jungkook feels his tail lower down in shame.

"I don't know." He offers, Jimin's face clearly falling at that. "She was with me like- five minutes ago, I don't know where she went.." He admits shamefully, and Yoongi sighs.

"Let me guess-" He mumbles, looking over at his partner. "She doesn't have her phone with her?" He asks him, and Jimin shakes his head. "Great. Let's just sit down here on the side and wait. Maybe she'll find us soon." He suggests, while Jimin doesn't seem too convinced about that plan.

"No, I'll go look-" He starts, Yoongi holding him back by his hand, trying to tug him back to sit down next to him. "Yoongi-"

"If you run off now she's never going to find you." He offers. "She's an adult, not a child, Jimin. She can do this on her own." He explains, while Jungkook doesn't feel convinced. Sure, you truly aren't a child, and he doesn't view you as such, but the mall is still pretty big. And you're on your own. And yes- maybe he feels a bit oddly protective over you, considering you're somewhat part of the family- even if you try very hard not to. Jimin and Yoongi truly seem to get along very well, and clearly share an emotional connection, making it very obvious that the only hurdle right now is you and Jungkook trying to get along.

And maybe he's at fault too. If he was a soft cat hybrid too, or a cute bunny, or even a gentle bear hybrid, you wouldn't be so reserved and defensive. If he wasn't born as a dangerous dog breed, he probably wouldn't make you feel so intimidated.

Maybe if he was different, this whole mess wouldn't even exist.

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You actually didn't mean to get lost. You really didn't. After all, why would you? This is your personal nightmare, after all.

Being left alone has always been an issue to you. Maybe because it happened so much to you in the past that you now just felt this obsession with needing to latch onto things you want to keep, fueling your fear of abandonment even further over time. Maybe it's always been like that, and your overall reaction to it simply just changed. You're not sure. All you know is that you don't want to be alone anymore, and Jimin had been the soothing security for a good few years for you, your security in the fact that you'd never have to be on your own again. And now with Yoongi and Jungkook, that security is challenged- your happy little bubble about to burst.

Or maybe it already did, and he's just trying to find the best moment to break the news to you.

None of your thoughts want to make sense as you sit on the random bench in the mall, staring at the hem of your skirt. Your mind just wont clear up, nothing really offering you any comfort as you wait for someone to maybe come find you. Maybe no one will actually reach out to search for you. Maybe they're happy you're gone now. Should you just leave? You could just go to the next police station, they'd put you in a shelter in that case, and Jimin wouldn't even have to come pick you up. He could just say over the phone that he doesn't want you back, making the whole process a lot easier on everyone.

Jungkook is a nice guy. He's gonna fit right in with Yoongi and Jimin.

He really doesn't deserve the looks he gets. You've noticed that a lot today- the odd glances he gets thrown, as if he's a criminal on the loose, ready to stab someone at a moment's chance, when in reality, that dog could probably not even slap down a fly if he was asked to do so. He's so soft, and gentle, and a little bit sensitive- making you wonder if he ever really gets angry at all.

You know you get angry a lot. You know your tantrums are childish, but you can't help your reactions. You're not good at handling and controlling your emotions. You never learned how to do that- and you refuse to put any effort into it anymore anyways, because does it really matter?

Suddenly, someone walks past the bench you're sitting on, stands in front of you with his back turned facing you, looking around. You're watching him for a bit, crossing your arms as you get up to walk a bit closer, before you say anything. "You'd make for a horrible tracking dog, you know that?" You snap at Jungkook, who's ears turn around first, before his head whips towards you as well- tail beginning to wag as he realizes you've been finally found.

It's kind of cute.

What isn't kind of cute is the absolute bear-hug he tackles you with, holding you close for a good moment as if he'd just reunited with a long lost friend, while you lean back away from him, cringing at his overly happy attitude. "Don't run off like that!" He scolds, though there's no fire behind his words. Someone walking past chuckles at the scene he's spotting, and you push against the dog hybrid's chest to signal that he needs to step away a bit, which he does, apologizing under his breath before he smiles. "Let's get back to Yoongi and Jimin. They've been worried." He informs you, walking next to you as he leads you to where they both are sitting.

"Yoongi is gonna be fucking pissed seeing that you found me." You mumble, and Jungkook looks down at you, before he shakes his head.

"Yoongi is a bit.. bad with feelings, and he can be a little harsh with his words, but he means well." Jungkook tries to justify his owner's behavior. "He's really nice. He's just.. stressed because he really likes Jimin, and wants to work it out all by himself." he explains, walking next to you with his hands in his pockets. "He's always been like that. He feels bad when something fails that he's involved in, and then puts all the blame on himself." He shrugs.

"That's stupid." You mumble, spotting both of your owners on a bench in the distance.

"A little, maybe." Jungkook laughs. "But I'd say he thinks what you're doing is stupid too, so." He jokes, and at that you glare up at him, arms crossed.

"Well you're stupid too." You huff, while he suddenly grins down at you, a very interesting look on his face.

"And you're cute." He says, leaving you to stop in your tracks as your brain needs to process his words for a good moment, not having expected that. And you don't get much more time to really think about it when a happy Jimin runs towards you and embraces you in a hug, clearly relieved that you're back and not lost after all.

Though Yoongi doesn't look too impressed at all.

"What the hell was that?" He scolds as you're relieved from Jimin's hug, though you're clearly not just taking Yoongi's words without a fight back.

"Got lost, my god." You roll your eyes. "Sorry I got found, won't happen again I guess." You mumble, looking to the side, while Yoongi sighs.

"I sure hope this doesn't happen again at all." He says, walking closer to adjust your hybrid collar so that your tags are facing the front- the close contact making you inch back a bit on instinct, his hands stuttering a little because of that. "..don't get lost again, please." He mumbles, indicating that he was at least mildly worried- and you're just looking at the floor, pouting to yourself.

"..I'll try." You just say back quietly, causing both Jungkook and Jimin to laugh.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Later that day back at the cabin you all share, it's clear that that little moment today didn't magically change anything. You're still picking a fight with Yoongi left and right, you're still awfully bratty and Yoongi keeps on scolding you while Jimin tries to keep things at least somewhat civil- but there's an odd lightness to it now. Like the bite behind your words- and also Yoongis- has lessened quite a bit now, no longer intending to hurt.

And tonight you don't argue at all about the sleeping arrangement- at least not vocally-, making it a bit easier on Jimin and Yoongi.

Though Jungkook notices how you're not sleeping, rather staring into nothingness while the entire room and cabin is drowned in darkness, your owner probably already asleep. "Everything okay?" Jungkook asks, and you hum an affirmative answer towards him- though he notices you're not very confident in your response it seems like. "What's wrong?" He now whispers as to not wake up your owners, as he sits up on his bed now, looking over at you.

"..nothin'. Go sleep, dog." You mumble, pulling the blanket a bit higher over your body.

"You know.." Jungkook starts quietly, sighing as he rubs his eyes. "..Nothing's gonna happen to you." He offers, and at that your eyes move to find his. "I know that you're scared-"

"I'm not." You respond.

"-that you're not scared then, but if you were-" He teases a bit, watching you roll your eyes. "-it would be for nothing. Jimin's not gonna get rid of you, Yoongi doesn't hate you, I don't hate you either." He tells you, and you sigh.

"..why not?" You mumble, so quiet he almost doesn't hear it. "Jiminie only pays attention to Yoongi now. He didn't even brush my tail before bed anymore, like he always does. He doesn't care anymore." You mumble, making you roll over to have your back facing Jungkook.

"What if I did it for you then?" He wonders, and you look over your shoulder with an irritated look. "I know it's not the same, but I can try." He offers, shrugging, while you sit up slowly now as well, watching him suspiciously.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, and he just leans his head to the side a little, his gaze now a lot more serious.

"Cause I know what it's like to be alone." He tells you. "I know what it feels like to have no one. And I don't want you to feel that when we're all here." He tells you, and you look down to the floor, oddly quiet now.

And it stays like that for a good moment, making Jungkook question whether or not you fell asleep while sitting- when you raise your face again, this time eyes glossy with emotions you won't speak of. And you don't have to.

Because the way you don't fight him as he walks over to hug you speaks louder than anything you could say to him. And tonight, you feel a little less lonely with him holding you. Tonight, you're opening up just a little bit. Tonight, you decide to cling to someone new-

Tonight, Jungkook get's a little taste of how sweet you can be, once you let someone in.

Sticky like honey, clinging to his skin.

…

"…if you tell either of those two about this I'll bite off your tail and boil it." You threaten against his chest, and he laughs, said tail wagging underneath the blanket you share.

"Of course." He chuckles, playfully petting your head. "Of course."

His cheeks almost hurting from smiling so brightly, as the sound of your purr fills the room.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

lrt the key thing to remember about covid is that it isn't magic. It has to get in you first before it can infect you, and you have to have a certain amount of viral load before it can take over (it doesn't take much anymore, but it still has to reach that threshold).

The key to being able to do fun, indoor things is to find an n95 or higher respirator, test to make sure it fits you without leakage, and then do not take off your mask. ever.

This is where it gets people. I hear tons of stories from people who caught Covid even though they masked, and it almost always turns out they took it off for one reason or another.

"Hungry or thirsty?" Eat and hydrate beforehand or plan to stay until you get hungry. If you have a medical condition where you have to eat or take meds while you're out, find a place outside and bring multiple masks so you can put on a fresh one when you're done. For thirst, they actually make something for this. Do not take off the mask.

"What if we wanna take a selfie?" Take them beforehand or keep the masks on. Do not take off the mask.

"What about air breaks?" No air breaks. If you can't tolerate being in a mask for long periods, you cannot safely go to long events. Do not take off the mask.

Respirators have a seal. When you break the seal by taking it off, they do not work as effectively. The seal can also break after a certain amount of use, which changes depending on how many other people are masking around you. I used to have a diagram showing how long each masks last in different situations, but I sadly cannot find it so I won't say a specific time since I can't confirm it, but this is essentially why if I'm going to attempt something riskier, I wear a p100 because those are good for 8hrs before you have to change the filter, and anything that I go to indoors won't be more than 3hrs (simply because I'm old and I ain't staying out longer than that lol)

I really appreciate that op made a psa, because the point of that post I think a lot of people are missing is that we need to be in full pandemic mode specifically because of the wave. But the problem with writing Covid things in a sensational kind of way is that it makes mitigation seem like an impossible task that requires monk like sacrifice, and that makes people immediately shut down. It's not, even in a huge wave like this. Will you have to change your routine and behaviors, and some of those changes might be inconvenient? Absolutely. But they will never be impossible. It's important to remember that adaptation isn't sacrifice. You're not "giving up" anything. You're still gonna be able to have your social needs met, you'll just be doing it in a different way for awhile.

If you want to hang out with a small group of friends at their/your house, and it's too cold to be outside or you just don't want to, the safest way to do it is universal masking, full vaccinations, testing multiple times beforehand, and using at least one air purifier that filters up to 0.1-0.5 µm in the room you'll be gathering in. This can be done diy with a Corsi-Rosenthal box if you need something cheaper! Air filters suck in viruses faster than people can breathe them in, so the risk of getting covid would be incredibly low in this situation (but never zero). If you want to share a meal, know that taking off the masks will increase the risk, but at least let the purifer run at the highest setting tolerable for an hour before doing so

If you can't afford to stop reusing your N95s, I recommend either locating a mask bloc near you and ask for some mask donations, or buy an elastomeric n95 like this one. There are many to choose from and while they are more expensive, they're reusable, with the filter only needing to be changed after 8 hours (or sooner if in a big crowd)

Some people are currently inventing portable air-purifiers you can pair with masks, and you can 3-D print them!

You're at work/the dentist/some other situation where you absolutely can't go outside in a non-crowded space, and you need to take down your mask? Nasal sprays like this one can be a good extra layer of protection for these situations. You can always, like with most viruses, rinse out your nose after being in public and rinse your mouth with CPC mouthwash for even more extra layers of protection.

One of the frustrations I have with the current Covid advocacy is that it's still largely focused on near-total abstinence, which has never been and never will be an effective education tool. I prefer taking a cue from AIDS advocacy and focus on education and providing resources. Of course, staying home is the only way to stay 100% safe, and you should choose contactless options whenever you can as long as the pandemic is still going. But isolation is becoming less and less realistic for most people and I want to still show them that you can stay safe even if you can't stay home.

Covid is not an impossible task. It's not magic. You do not need to catch that wave. These are imperative facts we as a collective have to internalize if we want out of this pandemic. You are not helpless. We've had airborne viruses for years and years, and we've known how to protect ourselves from them as well. We've known how to protect from Covid, specifically, for years. The only reason it's gotten this bad and is still a pandemic is because our governments benefit more from the masses being sick and needing resources, full stop. Like climate change, we have the tools to beat this virus back at any point. Because of this, even in this huge wave, there is no reason you have to only exist online. There are ways you can see your friends safely.

All people like OP are saying is that, at least until this wave improves, you should do that without going to the bars, clubs, restaurants, concert venues, etc. Because it's not only extremely unsafe for you, but it's putting other people in danger too.

[vinnytotherescue]

Hello! Can I request a drabble in which the reader is very affectionate with V’s familiars (kisses and pets) and how he would react to it? Thank you so much!

i love this so much! we are just going to ignore the fact that I just learned that Shadow is a male...How did i not notice while playing-_-

also, Shadow i only focused on griffon and shadow hope you don't mind!

warnings: none pure fluff

V x Reader: Cuddles with the familiars

Being V’s significant other ultimately meant being able to tolerate two seemingly dangerous and overly protective familiars. That made V very anxious since he knew that not a lot of people would be able to handle such creatures. Their dark nature always scared people away. Yet you were not scared, you were fascinated. Somehow, you could even say that you had some kind of invisible bond with both Griffon and Shadow. From the moment you met them you fell in love with them and they with you, V never understood that but he nevertheless he was very grateful. 

Opening the door to your shared apartment you were faced with a silent V reading his book. Two seconds passed and before you could properly enter you were tackled down by shadow, griffon flying right next to your head. V turned his head to observe the scene, something that would occur every time you would return from work. But still it wasn’t something you could get used to. 

“Took you long enough huh (y/n)? Shadow got worried over there” Shadow just gave Griffon a death stare and continued laying in your lap. V had gotten off the couch by now and was standing next to you with a smirk on his face. 

“Griffon don’t be mean to Shadow, or we both know where you will end up” A giggle left your mouth and you turned to see and extended hand waiting for you to take it.

“I see, i think they like you more than me” V pulled you to your feet and you wrapped your arms around his waist , burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

“That’s not true and you know it” The room filled with your giggles as you stared into V’s green eyes. After detaching yourself from him you dragged him back to the couch this time your head in his lap. Your head was pounding like crazy from the intensity of your day at work and the only thing you could think about was how you were going to relax with V close to you. 

“Hard day at work?” his velvety voice was so soothing to your ears after the screaming and yelling in the office. Nero and Dante were a handful to manage. Your body curled closer to his as you nodded and you could feel your muscles relax as he stroked your head. A small smile found its place on your face as you felt something warm curling on your legs. You slightly raised your head and was faced with a sleepy Shadow. 

“You are sleepy too my boy?” you pet the huge jaguar as he now lay still on your legs, his dense fur  providing warmth to your tired body. Griffon felt left out completely so he came and took his usual place close to your chest, your arms slowly curling around him, careful not to hurt his beautiful wings. V could feel his heart warm up at the sight. He never expected this turn of events, he was beyond relieved that you three were so close. You always wanted some kind of a pet and V having two familiars was just perfect. 

Kissing both Griffon and Shadow on their heads you felt your eyes become more and more droopy as time passed by. 

“Don’t I get a kiss?” V stared at you his eyebrows raised from the lack of attention from you. You turned your head toward him mouthing a soft sorry in your way and placed a kiss on his cheek. After seeing his deadpan expression you tiredly giggled again and gave him a normal kiss on the lips. 

Your lips parted and you just went back to your original position, one arm hugging Shadow and one hugging Griffon.

“Want me to read you a bit?” You quickly nodded your head at the suggestion and closed your eyes enjoying his smooth voice filling the room. 

“I love you all” 

The words slowly started to merge into one and your breathing slowed down as you surrendered to dreamland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you for reading!! ;)

[s1ater]

hot and thirsty.

pairings. slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. you would have thought lorenzo would win the dumbest drunk of the year, but blaise proves you wrong.

warnings. foul language

ricky rocks. i got this idea from a tik tok comment 😭

“will you just fucking cooperate, blaise.”

“why’re you feeling me up like that, mate? i always knew you wanted to fuck me.”

“for fucks sake, perv!” draco shoves blaise off and onto the couch, his face going flush and his look of frustration turning into irritation. “no one here is trying to feel you up.”

to say draco’s patience with drunk people ran low real fast—was an understatement. especially when it came to blaise and enzo, but lucky for him, blaise was the only one shitfaced tonight.

it had to be one in the morning when you had all finally dragged blaise by his collar out of the ravenclaw party. you were surprised none of you had gotten kicked out of the party because that’s how the night always ended, but like said before, blaise was the only one drinking… which you were also surprised by.

“i’m highly surprised you would even say that to me. many women and men would love to feel me up, would even pay,” he eyes draco strangely, like he’s utterly disgusted that draco would diss him like that. “the question is, draco, would anyone want to feel you up, huh? i’m guessing no since you’re with me tonight.”

draco is so obviously done by the way he stares at blaise, it makes you smile, wandering to blaise’s side who now stands, challenging the blonde to say something else.

“whatever, i’m going to bed,” he waves him off, turning on his heel to head up the stairs. “don’t do anything stupid.”

“that’ll be a hard one,” enzo claps his hands before rubbing them together in thought, already formulating a plan on settling the night down. you were surprised by this, lorenzo was usually one to keep the night going, but by the way his sober eyes stared at blaise made you think he more than ready to end it. “let’s get you a glass, right mate?”

“glass of what?” blaise perks up at this idea, almost running to enzo’s side at the recommendation. “i prefer fire whiskey, but a little bourbon, vodka, anything really wouldn’t be minded.”

“i think he means water, sweetheart,” theodore pats his shoulders as he slumps onto one of the couches, “you’ve had more than enough fire whiskey, and everything that you don’t mind tonight.”

you were surprised theo hadn’t followed draco right up those stairs for sleep—he usually was always the first one to tap out from a night out, mostly due to his short tolerance of everyone’s drunk or tipsy state. he almost never drank, he found public intoxication embarrassing and when he did, it was rare and only with your small group.

“sweetheart?” blaise hiccuped, now uneven on his feet as he stared down at theodore. “now you boys are all over me tonight,” he hiccups again, squinting as he tumbled a bit backward while tempting to raise his arms in expression. “don’t worry, there’s enough blaise zabini to go around.”

“isn’t there always?”

“y/n, love, why don’t you get blaise a cup?”

“me,” you raised your brows, surprised to be even noticed in this moment. “oh, i couldn’t, enzo, i’m far too wasted.”

he scowled knowing you were bullshitting, because you hadn’t drank a drop that night and you really just didn’t want to move from your very comfortable spot on the couch.

“oh for fucks sake,” he rolls his eyes.

“you all left rather early,” your heads all turn to see mattheo strolling through the entrance of the common room looking rather disheveled compared to the last time you had all seen him. it made you bite down on your lip to suppress a grin as you shared a look with theodore.

mattheo was very much a drinker despite what he liked to think. although he could handle himself very well and he was far from a light weight—once he got into some fire whiskey, he was gone and always found himself in some trouble. more specifically with a girl.

“i’d say we left rather late,” theo corrected, giving him a knowing smile.

“oh.”

“mattheo, since you’re already up, will you get blaise some water?”

“sure man,” he nodded, wringing the loosely fit tie further away from his neck before looking to theodore, a ghost of a grin lining his lips. “theodore, want to come with?”

“sure.”

they were definitely gossiping. they always did after a party and it was your favorite thing because despite mattheo only ever telling theodore these things, it always made its way back to you because theodore could never keep his mouth shut around you.

you watched theo carefully as he got up and met mattheo’s side before immediately conversing.

“such girls,” enzo shook his head before slouching onto the spot next to you, his head leaning backward in exhaustion. “y’know, i hate being sober. fucking sucks.”

you laugh quietly, shaking your head, “it’s not terrible. it’s actually quite easier when you’re not wasted and threatening to throw up when any minor inconvenience happens to you.”

“shut up,” he shakes his head but still smiles. “it’s not too late to start drinking.”

“amen brother!”

“for you, it is,” enzo’s finger stabs the air at blaise’s voice that sounds randomly around the room. “you need to go to bed.”

he stays silent at that and you wonder what’s going through his mind till he speaks it; “it’s real hot in here, do you all feel it?”

“what are you going on about now,” lorenzo looks up at him, highly irritated while blaise roams around the room, an idea obviously pinned in his mind.

“it’s fucking hot. i might start stripping,” he was already taking off his shirt and there really was nothing either of you could do.

“yeah, you do that man,” enzo lays his head back down against the back of the couch. he didn’t have to worry if blaise was entertaining himself.

nights like this often played out like that; half of you that were sober would end up passing out on the common room couches as blaise and most likely lorenzo and whoever else that was wasted—entertained themselves with random trinkets they found around the room; most likely breaking something.

“awh! we’re looking for water aren’t we? well i have such a fantastic solution, why didn’t we think of this sooner?”

the tone of his voice made you frown, popping your head up slowly as you looked for blaise around the room, “what are you on about—blaise stop!”

you had never hopped to your feet so fast at the sight of blaise attempting to pry open a window before becoming successful, where immediately, water started flowing through the opened crack.

“you fucking fool, what is going through your mind?!”

you can see him fall to his ass as he giggles, watching both you and lorenzo run to shut the window. your finger tips pry against the metal lining of the window, trying to jerk it back into its place, but the pressure of water pouring into the room proved a strong resistance that made movement of the window almost impossible.

“did you forget where exactly we were, you fucker?!”

lorenzo towered over you, attempting the same, but failed just as you did till finally the window sliced through the water like a knife and moved so easily back into its place, closing the gate.

you sighed in relief, turning to slide down the wall where you now saw mattheo and theodore with their wands out with shocked expressions. awh, that’s why it had finally moved.

“dear god, blaise, are you stupid?!“

“save the insults, i just want my glass.”

navigation.

[fatuismooches]

greetings!!! this is the first time i've ever shared my idea to anyone, kind of worry but guess that i have to share it with you because your writings are so good and i love how you execute scenarios and ideas (literally awake all night scrolling through your brainrot 😭😭😭😭)

let me tell you that fragile!reader and dottore is what keeps me awake at night i love them so much, i literally read everything in the tags, the fluff and angst is SOO GOOD NGL.

so, angst/ no comfort (because i love tormenting myself (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆), fragile!reader and terminal lucidity - somebody suddenly became lively and conscious before their deaths. i see that you have written about fragile!reader whose memories are slowly deteriorating or slowly losing their eyesight. imagine one day, everything just come back...normal, the sudden recollection of memories, vision returned miraculously, no pain, no suffering, as if they were back to the days at Akademiya. they became gleeful, happy, full of live, no longer the gloomy, sick-ridden individual.

Dottore, of course, was surprised at this phenomenal, run more tests and check-ups just to be sure that we are actually healthy because there is no way we actually turn healthy after being sick in centuries. the segments however, especially Zandy, didn't think much about the whole ordeal. you are fine!! you can finally walking and running freely without being on life-support. your turn in health manage to turned them into a bunch of joyful, blue-haired maniacs with giddy, happy smiles on their lips.

we are fine for a few weeks, which also make Dottore himself believe that maybe, maybe his efforts have paid off, maybe our health have been stable, and maybe from now on, he could spend the rest of eternity with his beloved.

then we die (this is so mean i'm so sorry 😭😭😭😭😭). how they perish is completely up you but i'd preferably that they die in their sleep, a peaceful death. Dottore and the segments are... well, shocked is an understatement, their whole world have...gone, they'd question themself: how can this happen? you were fine in the past few weeks? In which Dottore blame himself the most, he shouldn't have believed that we were fine, he should have run more test, he should have been more cautious about the whole situation but now he completely felt... helpless, for the first time in millions of years. the only person who went thick and thin, the person that can tolerate him in the Akademiya days and the person that he can tolerate now have passed away.

(the ending is kind if short because idk what else to say since my vocabulary and grammar is rather limited. i hope this would be sufficient 😭😭😭😭😭 also looking forward on how you react to this. for now i'll just cry myself to sleep with this scenario while waiting for your work ❤️🥰)

- 🪷

It would come out of nowhere, no one expected it, no one believed it in the beginning. After all, over four hundred years of debilitating illness makes it hard for anyone to believe something good finally happened. But it does, when you first wake up you can feel that something is different - you definitely do some test runs in your room, picking up objects that were once too heavy for you, simple actions that no longer left you tired, no more aches or pains, it was marvelous. So obviously with your newfound energy, you sprint out to find anyone, hell even a random agent would do, because you're finally free. (You can already hear the voices of the segments - no running in the lab because of the very obvious dangers.)

Naturally, Dottore is very skeptical of this, yes, he does not trust how his heart beats at the sight of your glowing self putting on a little performance for him to show how healthy you are now, he can't bring himself to. He's witnessed how low you could become from the worst stages of your sickness, so although he's more than happy to see you well, the possibility of you falling back into such a state is very high. However he cannot find anything, and you don't show any visible signs either. Even so, he still watches you very closely. It's a feeling that always nags, one that may always nag him perhaps, the thought of you becoming worse. But he's not going to damper your mood with his thoughts, you should enjoy this.

Dottore and the segments would still scold you for your recklessness but realize that you are no longer sick and frail and they no longer have to fuss over your health. It's a very strange sensation that's hard to break out of since they've been doing it for so long. But it's good! You're happy! You're strong! You're the [Name] that was buried away, come to rise to the surface once more. Let's just say Zandy very much enjoys the piggyback rides. The checkups still persist as a general measure, but they always go smoothly. It seems there's nothing to worry about.

You would want to assume your role of his assistant once again right away - it's something you've been longing for, to be able to be useful to your lover just like how you once were. To live those days of banter and sharing fascinating knowledge and listening to each other's ideas once more. And so you do, Dottore's more than happy to let you, oh how he's missed you by his side so often. He's excited, he's ready to put the past four hundred years behind and move on, his mind already racing with the countless possibilities that have opened up now. Unfortunately, they don't come to fruition.

Perhaps you felt something wasn't right but it was already far too late - on the day of your death you acted like everything was normal, carrying out your new duties, but also with a lot of added affection, visiting each segment and Dottore and kissing them with all your love. They don't think much of it, you're usually affectionate like that. If only they knew that would be the last time they were embraced by you. Little Zandy too - it would be the last time you ever hugged him and listened to you read him a story. He'd be absolutely inconsolable after your death.

With you gone, the spark in his life would be gone. It would be the same routine of his duties and experiments and research, with nothing to ease his tension. Sure, he no longer has to spend lots of time finding a cure or producing medicine, but this wasn't the way he wanted it to happen. It's the same as when you were sleeping, except this time he no longer has the anticipation of you eventually waking up. Or does he?

Resurrection is a forbidden art, but he is Il Dottore, the one who has no problem sinking his hands into what should not be done, and he is Zandik, the one who loves you. If this world wants you gone so badly, then so be it. He will simply reach for your hand and pull you back to him every time, because even if it is lifeless, he will make sure it's warm once again.

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Here ya go, Chapter Eight!!!! As always please remember to read the intros etc. I don’t give permission to republish, copy, or use my work elsewhere.

And please like/reblog! I always appreciate it :)

Masterlist     Series Masterlist     Series Intro     Your First Year Hogwarts Letter

Chapter Eight ~ Academic Chess

The first class of the day, according to her schedule, was Transfiguration; taught by the same professor who first greeted them the night before.

The morning had been a bit strange; where she was used to waking to the sound of seagulls and screaming, she was now awakened by the other girls in her dorm rummaging about to get ready. She’d never had to share a room before, and certainly not with so many people. Her roommates seemed nice… a little strange but who was she to judge? As she’d unpacked her bone collection and trinkets to place on her shelf, they’d unpacked magazines and scented candles, and given her funny looks as she placed her giant new journal on her desk. But so far they had yet to curse her name or scurry away in fear – in fact, they even introduced themselves. Saoirse Speck was the first to greet her, an Irish girl from Cork; she was a little odd herself, with absolutely no filter before she spoke and always seemed to have her head in the clouds. Another was Millicent Bullstrode, she had a round face and always seemed to be frowning just a little. Millicent looked the most nervous out of them to meet her, but shook her hand anyway. The third girl was Bridget Byrne, a pureblood from Windermere, a little rude but still more tolerable than some. They invited her to sit with them for breakfast, (Y/N) could see the reluctance but agreed nonetheless.

Finding their way to Transfiguration could have been easier – there was no map provided for students and there weren’t any signs about the castle – but eventually, after many stops to ask for directions, they made it in time.

The classroom was located on the east lower floor of the castle, just up a flight of stone stairs. It was a magnificent room, (Y/N) thought, every part of the great castle was. Stone arches decorated the walls, great windows curving up to the ceiling let in so much light that no candles even had to be lit, and the rows of wooden desks were all set for them to start. She was terribly excited – not that anyone could tell.

“Good morning, class.” Greeted the professor when everyone was seated. (Y/N) could have sworn she wasn’t there a moment ago. “Welcome to your first lesson of the year. For anyone who may not remember, I am Deputy Headmistress McGonnagal – head of Gryffindor house and your professor. I am glad to see you all on time.” She paused and looked at each face in the room. “Well, most of you. It seems we have a few missing students. But never mind for now.”

The professor moved to stand by her desk, gesturing to the chalkboard she had prepared in advance. “I trust by now that you’ve all had plenty enough time to revise your copies of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and are already informed of the contents of its first chapter, if you’ll all please open them up.”

Everyone did as she asked, and Saoirse sucked in a breath. (Y/N) looked to her side to see that her roommate had forgotten her textbook, and on the first day too. She rolled her eyes before placing her own copy between them in a silent signal to share, ignoring the grateful look the girl sent.

“Today we will be learning about the Transfiguration Alphabet, something I expect you all to be fluent in before the end of term...” The professor began her lecture as everyone started to take notes on the scrolls provided. As the chalk began to write on the board various symbols and their meanings, which they had to copy, the room soon fell into concentrated silence, and the next time (Y/N) looked up, there was no sign of the professor but a cat on her desk. But still, she busied herself with her notes:

Monday 2nd September, 1991

Class Rules:

No food or beverages in class

No silly behaviour

Be professional

Pay attention and ask questions

Note: there will be a 10 question quiz after each week.                                                                              

Introduction to Transfiguration

Transfiguration is the most sciantific scientific branch of magic. It is the defined art of changing the form of an object or being into a different form. Forms: Transformation, Conjuration, Vanishing, and Untransformation. It is a very dangerous form of magic and easy to mess up. When you are working with the molecules of an object you are changing its basic princaple principles.

There is a strict and systematic approach to incantations and wand movements. Take care to be precise.

Transfiguration Alphabet:                                                            

A – O

B – θ

C –  

(Y/N)’s notes were cut short as the great wooden door to the classroom burst open. The class turned as two boys in Gryffindor robes scurried in, panting. Ron whispered something to Harry that she couldn’t quite make out, then the cat jumped off the desk and suddenly revealed itself to be their professor. Oh that explains it, thought (Y/N), as if her teacher being a cat explained anything really.

When the boys finally found a desk to share, just behind (Y/N) and Saoirse, they let out a breath and hurried to take notes. (Y/N) turned, despite knowing she shouldn’t, to face them. “Don’t worry too much,” she said, though her face was unreadable her words were clearly meant for comfort, “you’re not that late. I can lend you my notes later if you like.”

The boys shared a glance. “No thanks,” said Ron, his eyes lingering on the Slytherin emblem on her robe, “we’re fine.”

(Y/N) frowned a little, studying their faces for a second, both looked a little unsure, but she turned back to the front of the room and brushed it off.

When everyone arrived and settled into Potions, (Y/N) was surprised to find that their professor was not present. Wasn’t he supposed to greet them on entrance?

Whispers and gossiping travelled about the room; some were about her, most were about Harry. (Y/N) was never truly one for gossip – if someone had something to say they could say it to her face, ask her directly; and she felt the same as they took glances at Harry and he kept his head down, hair covering his scar. Supposedly no one had yet learned their manners.

Suddenly, the doors slammed open and the noise bounced off the stone walls, rattling the glass jars on the shelves, and in came a tall, dark-haired man dressed all in black. Briskly walking between the tables and to his desk at the forefront of the dark room. Anyone would think the classroom floor was his stage. “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class.” He announced in a drab voice.

Ah, thought (Y/N), he just wanted to make a dramatic entrance.

“As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few…” the professor glanced at the rude Malfoy boy from the previous day, “who possess the predisposition-” hang on, does he know that boy? Is he implying he’s already had lessons over the summer? That’s cheating. “-I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper... in death.” Very dramatic, should she be taking notes on dramatic flare?

Before she could think about picking up her goose-feather quill, she heard the scratching of someone else’s to her right. Near the edge of the row beside her, Harry sat writing on his parchment, gaining Snape’s attention. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not… pay attention.” The girl beside Harry gave him a quick nudge, making him look up in time to see the stoic professor make his way to him. “Mr. Potter. Our new… celebrity.” He mocked, which was really not very professional behaviour from a teacher. “Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The girl beside him eagerly raised her hand, but Harry only shrugged and shrunk back in embarrassment.

The potions master took no notice, only taking the opportunity to humiliate the boy further. “You don’t know? Well, let’s try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

Harry gulped and shifted his eyes to the girl beside him. “I don’t know, sir.” He replied. Of course he didn’t, it was only their first day, after all.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” (Y/N) knew the answer to that one, it was easy, and so did the bushy-haired girl raising her hand, it seemed.

But poor Harry was struggling for an answer. “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape pursed his lips, a couple of students snickered at the humiliation; most just seemed uncomfortable or afraid. “Pity. Clearly fame isn’t everything… is it, Mr. Potter?”

What was his motive in all this silly bullying? (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder. But the sight of Harry – the first person to chat with her on that train as if they were already friends, as if she were more than just a dark, mysterious rumour – sat there flushed and feeling small and… stupid even, she just couldn’t stand the injustice. Before she could even think twice about her actions, her mouth moved of its own accord. “To be fair to him, professor,” she interjected, drawing all eyes her way, “it is only our first day. We can’t all be expected to know our textbooks by heart.”

The man turned to her, standing tall and menacing with a glare that surely would have made any other student quiver in their seats – but (Y/N) Addams had seen far scarier sights than a greasy, middle-aged man who bullied children, and she was far braver than she looked. A family proverb echoed in her mind, one that had been drummed into her and her siblings for years: A sharp mind makes you the most dangerous in the room, a sharp knife makes you the most deadly.

An Addams speaks their mind. Always. And right now, her mind was saying that Professor Snape would be a worthy enemy if he wished it. She also had the potential to be one of his best students, if he allowed it. If Snape had a problem with that… well, hence the second part of the proverb.

“Miss Addams…” Snape drawled, taking slow steps towards her, as if he fancied himself a predator stalking prey. But an Addams was never prey. “I should have known you’d be trouble. If you’re so keen to interrupt Mr. Potter’s questioning, you’ll be more than capable of answering for him.”

He was challenging her, obviously, but even if she got some answers wrong, it wouldn’t stop her from accepting. She held her head high and met his stare with a seemingly innocent one of her own. “I might.”

Snape seemed all the more irritated. “Monkshood and wolfsbane--”

“Are the same plant, also known as aconite.” (Y/N) answered immediately, it was easy – she grew it herself in the family’s poison garden. “Named because it used to be made into a paste and dipped on arrowheads for wolf hunting, since its highly poisonous. Would you like me to tell you about some murder cases involving it?” Some of her favourite murders involved poisons, it would take her all day to recite them all.

Academic battles were much like chess, and (Y/N) just made her first move.

The professor gritted his teeth. “A bezoar can be found where?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, knowing for sure it was in her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. “I believe it can be found in the stomach of a goat, sir.”

The flash of both anger and impression on the professor’s face made this all the more fun. “And what, Miss Addams, would you get by combining powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?”

(Y/N) didn’t know the exact answer, but she knew enough to show him up a little. “I don’t know, sir.” She said, waiting for the look of self-satisfaction to cross his face, and when it did, she interrupted any jab he wanted to throw. “But given that asphodel is part of the lily family and therefore poisonous, I’m going to assume it makes some sort of poison – which I wouldn’t know the name of because we aren’t meant to study those until later in our curriculum.”

She was correct, of course, which irritated him all the more. And lucky for her, Snape was head of Slytherin House; he wouldn’t take points away from her for being correct in his class, would he? “You are lucky, Miss Addams, that I am willing to overlook your cheek. The next time you have something to say... you will raise your hand.” He sneered, turning with a swish of his robes and returning to his desk, eyeing the class. “Well? Why aren’t you copying this down?”

Check-mate.  

Lunch wasn’t much unlike dinner the night before; just as excitable, just as loud. The only difference being that (Y/N) was no longer sat alone. Though she now had company, she still felt a separation from the students around her. As Rumi once said: “even surrounded by people, like water and oil, he remains apart”. That was how she felt at Hogwarts; not quite fitting in, away from home and her norms. She couldn’t wait for the end of term and it was only her first day.

Moments later, a commotion began within the Great Hall. “The mail’s here!” She heard from across the room, seeing a few students stand as a great swarm of owls flew into the room… or in all technicality, a parliament of them.

Various parcels, letters, and papers were being dropped all around onto the tables, owls landing near their owners to accept treats or steal pieces of their dinners. “Are you expecting anything, (Y/N)?” Saoirse asked from beside her, opening up a letter and feeding her barn owl a piece of chicken. Was that cannibalism? Maybe…

“Well I’m sure my family have sent something--” She was interrupted by startled shrieks around her, all looking up to see another bird enter the Hall. It was easily twice the size of many of the owls swooping out of its way, a wingspan that sent a woosh of air as it passed, and in its long talons was a parcel with a letter attached. It dropped it in her lap before landing on the table with a graceful flap of its brown wings, head hung low to greet her. “Mortis.” She greeted, tearing up a piece of pork in exchange for its delivery.

“I-is that a vulture?” Bridget cried, eyes wide with fear as the bird in question began to tear apart a full roast chicken.

“Yes.” (Y/N) simply answered, ignoring the stares and chattering as she opened up her parcel. A small box wrapped in brown paper and black string, sealed on the top with the black wax of the family crest; inside was a black quill, a pot of red ink, some more parchment paper, a silver letter-opener sharp enough to perform an autopsy, and a box of matches. She just couldn’t wait to light something with them. The letter was in a charcoal grey envelope, the seal was a rich black, and the crest had been coloured in white – doubtlessly Wednesday’s touch, almost perfect. Taking out the new letter-opener, handle shaped like a dragon’s neck, its fierce head roaring at the end, she swiftly cut open the envelope and took out its contents. She knew from the second she opened the letter that Wednesday had written it; her father would have been writing every word that came into his unorganised mind, and her mother’s nails were far too pristine to stain.

Dear (Y/N),

We hope that your first days at Hogwarts have been interesting thus far. Father wishes to know which house you have been sorted into, obviously (you should know that there is a bet in place, and I sincerely hope you haven’t lost me my pocket money). Mother asks if you have made any friends or enemies yet. I, personally, should hope that you prioritise the latter.

You did pack a camera, didn’t you? We want to see what everything looks like. If not, please inform us in your reply and we will send one over. Mother and Father also want to know if you would like Thing to accompany you while you settle in.

We are very interested to know about your classes and professors, will you be learning how to turn anyone into toads soon? Pugsley has already broken our new guillotine and I think spending a few days as an amphibian would be a worthy punishment. But for now I have tied him up and put him in his closet with his mouth taped shut.

Pugsley and Father are going fishing tomorrow – they feel that they are in need of a distraction while they get used to your absence. I, however, hope you stay there as long as possible. In fact, next time you should take Pugsley with you and it might finally be quieter around here.

Grandmama wants to remind you to practice your knife throwing, as it would be “unbecoming” of you to be a sloppy thrower by the time you return.

We expect your reply to arrive soon. Make sure Mortis is well-fed before you send him back, or he might eat one of the carrier owls he is let loose near. Wouldn’t that be funny?

Awaiting your reply,

Your family.

She couldn’t wait to write back.

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[alonetimelover]

Action! - champagne problems - 2020

Pairings: Harry Styles x Director!Reader (she/her)

Summary: YN thinks Harry wants to save their relationship after the big fight they had two weeks ago. Harry thinks that too. But their definitions of saving are diametrically different.

Warnings: angst! mention of unloving family

Word count: ~3,0k

A/N: After a few messages I decided to let you know how exactly the break up between YN and Harry happened. It can be read as a second part to tolerate it. And of course it's based on champagne problems by Taylor Swift and has some other songs lyrics in it. Enjoy!

series masterlist let's talk about action!universe

my love 👨‍🎤

i'll be home today

i have a surprise for you, can you please get ready for 6? H

Two messages. 

First ones after two weeks of silence. Two weeks of contemplating over what had happened and what would happen. Two weeks of going to sleep on the cold bed and waking up to even colder one. Two weeks of being alone with her thoughts, feelings, regrets, promises and sadness. Fourteen days. 

Day after the other, she sank deeper and deeper into her lake of self-destructive thoughts. She wallowed in them. And as much as she’d loved water since being a little baby, she was drowning. And there was no saving. 

At exactly 6 pm the doorbell rang. In her white heels tapping on the floor and beige skirt flowing with her, YN anxiously walked to the door opening it. 

There he was, cream trousers, white tee with Hawaiian shirt on top of it, flowers - florists bouquet of pink roses - in his right hand. Harry sported a look of pure ‘I don’t know what I am doing’ hidden behind his ‘I’m so happy to see you’ persona. But YN knew him well enough to look past that, and he - at least she hoped so - knew her perfectly as well, feeling her uneasiness. And they both decided to ignore it. What more could go wrong?

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

No one would believe they were the people that spent a full 22 hours talking without taking a break. No one. No one even would have think they were once unstoppable, inseparable. No one would believe there once was love, yearning, appreciation or desire. Those people couldn’t be the one standing there.

“I see you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I - I’m just gonna grab my bag and we can go.”

No kiss hello. No ‘how are you?’. No ‘you look great’. They couldn’t even speak normally with each other. Two weeks just snapped them - or rather only YN - out of her blissful belief that everything was good. Now, everything was in its true colours. 

“We can go,” she said after coming back with a little white bag in hand. 

“Ladies first.” Harry gestured towards the door. 

The drive to the restaurant was spent in silence. No conversation or radio going on in the background. Not even a sound of the car - his electric one being so quiet. It wasn’t a comfortable silence they’d been used to, that they’d enjoyed having once in a while. This one brought discomfort. To Harry, because of the plan that he had created just this morning. And to YN, because it - them - felt even more done for than after that fight which had caused Harry to leave her alone in their once shared house. 

The restaurant was an… let’s say odd choice. 

It was a replica of the one that they’d gone to on their first date. Dom Pérignon was already waiting for them on the table with a ‘enjoy your third anniversary’ card right next to it. Two months too late, thought YN but didn't let her thoughts outside. 

“Are you up for some Italian food?” Harry questioned in a small voice, after they had settled down.

“Yeah, I’ve been craving some lately.” She smiled for a moment. 

And she said that same sentence to him a few times already. Three months ago, when they were going to order some take out. But it didn’t work out - Harry got a phone call and spent the rest of the night in his study. A month ago, when they were supposed to meet up with Florence - but Harry cancelled at the last minute, having said something came up in the studio. Girls decided to just drink a big amount of cheap wine. Two and a half weeks ago, right before leaving for their scheduled date that they’d never gone to. Harry needed to ‘check something at Jeff’s’ and left, going the opposite way to the one leading to his manager’s house. 

Everything started making sense in her mind. 

“Gnocchi sorrento for a lady and -” the waiter placed YN’s dish in front of her, giving her a grin, “ - and the minestrone for you, kind sir.” 

The pair, after their first date, decided to only drink this expensive champagne on exceptional occasions. 

They both thanked Theo - the waiter - politely and started eating. In silence.

Dom Pérignon didn’t go well with their food, neither did it go well with their moods. 

First date - when they both discovered it (Harry that day had asked the waiter when YN had gone to the bathroom “if I was an absolute champagne gourmet and wanted to drink something that goes well with shellfish, what would I choose?” “If the price isn’t a problem, then Dom Pérignon is one of our finest bottles, sir.”). 

YN’s graduation - they laid together on her small couch, champagne with a cheese platter on the coffee table. 

“I can’t believe I’m out of school,” YN sighed, taking a bite of a gorgonzola and then sipping champagne. “Also, can’t believe you bought it.” She lifted the flute. 

“You’re smart, of course you were going to graduate. With honours as well.” He kissed the side of her head. “And we agreed to drink it on really important occasions.”

“This is important to you?” 

She wasn’t making fun of him. She was surprised that something so small as a university graduation would be important to someone like Harry. A person that maybe didn’t have a higher education but was indeed clever and doing quite good for himself - a global idol for a lot of people of all ages. 

She wasn’t used to being important to people, at least for the first few years of her life when she was still living with her biological parents. After being adopted by the people she loved to call ‘mama and papa’ she started to learn the importance of appreciation. 

“Of course it is, love. Hey, look at me, please?” He delicately placed a hand on her cheek, turning her head towards him. “You’re important to me and whatever you do, whatever you achieve, whatever you seek and dream about - I’m here for you. I’m proud of you. Okay?”

Her lips turned upside down and her eyes glistened. She nodded her head rapidly, “okay, okay,” her voice small, trying to comprehend it all. 

“I love you, YNN.” 

“I love you, Harry.”

Then their first anniversary that they spent with Anne and Gemma - bottles of Dom Pérignon were laying on the outside table on Anne’s patio. It was a last minute call to go to Holmes Chapel. Anne wanted Harry to spend more time home, not knowing what that day meant to her son and his girlfriend. He tried to refuse his mother’s invitation but YN encouraged him to go. She loved Anne and Gemma. 

Their second anniversary was spent in Italy, right after Harry’s last tour date and YN’s Little Women shooting ended. Flutes of Dom Pérignon accompanied them in bed after an eventful night and day and another night and another day. They were finally together after months of separation. 

The Fine Line release party connected with Taylor’s 30th birthday was one crazy night full of people and alcohol. And only one bottle of Dom Pérignon that YN and Harry shared during a whole party, celebrating Harry's success.

YN’s Oscar win was the last time they spent an occasion with Dom Pérignon. 1959 bottle of their favourite champagne was enjoyed during the last night when she felt they were truly happy within their relationship.

And now she sipped it slowly, forgetting how much she once loved it. 

“How did you like the food?”

“It was amazing. Thank you, Theo,” YN said to a waiter, smiling kindly. 

“Pleasure is mine. Can I recommend some desserts for you both?” 

“Ye -”

“Thank you, Trevor. I’d like a tab,” Harry interrupted YN, pushing the plate towards the middle of the table. The dinner got cold with the chatter getting old. 

“Of course, sir.” Theo faked a smile and moved to the bar with one finished and one barely touched plates. 

“His name was Theo.” 

“Sorry?”

“His name was Theo, Harry. Not Trevor.” YN said rather firmly, in a low voice not to draw any more attention towards their table that it already had. 

“Mhmm, yeah, sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be sorry to. He was so polite and you couldn’t even remember his name. It was rude.”

“Okay!” he snapped, doing exactly the opposite of what YN wanted to do - men and women around them stopped talking and looked directly at YN and him. “‘M sorry,” he directed it more towards other people, rather than YN.

Before YN had a chance to say something or scold him, Theo came back with a receipt, “here you go, sir. Do you want to pay by cash or card?” 

“Card.”

“And please split the bill evenly for two. Thank you, Theo,” YN said, not even looking at Harry, hoping he knew not to try and argue with her. 

“Of course. Here you go.”

All hope for a change, volatilising. 

They paid the bill (50/50), and YN thanked Theo once more for his amazing client service, tipping him a substantial amount. Harry, still upset, just said ‘Good Night, mate’.

Without waiting for him to catch up with her, YN moved towards his car, ready to go home. 

“I want to take you to one more place before going home, okay?” Harry expressed after walking up to her, a hopeful smile on his beautiful face. 

“I’m not really in a mood to go anywhere else, Harry. I want to go to sleep.” 

Even though she had nothing to be tired from, she had no energy left in her body. The lack of conversation she craved, and affection she needed made her feel so empty. 

“Please? One more place?”

She breathed out loudly, “okay” she agreed, not being able to refuse his compelling voice. 

“Okay. It’s not so far away so we can walk there. Yeah?” He asked, giving her a hand to hold. 

She didn't remember when was the last time they held hands, intertwined fingers, bringing warmth. It had been so long since that loving touch, YN was ready to tear up right then. 

With their hands still being tightly connected, Harry guided YN up the street towards a more secluded area. There were more trees and bushes that immediately provided better air. The pavements were clearer and roads empty. They were alone. Unfortunately. 

“It’s right here,” Harry said, pointing at the big building, reminiscent of an old venue. “Can you please close your eyes?”

“Are you going to kill me or have me kidnapped?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. It’s - it’s just a surprise and I want you to see it from the best place. Can you trust me?”

No. “Yes, of course,” she answered, silencing her thoughts. 

After leading her through two pairs of stairs - one going up and then down -, a few corridors and finally going through uneven ground outside, they stopped walking.

Harry’s hands were sweaty, his breath was shaking. The petite box in his trousers pocket weighed much more than the last time he held it, when his mother passed it to him. Half-baked ideas were Harry’s thing and they most likely turned out more than fine. But this one, he felt, was going to collapse with a big thud. What made him turn to this concept first? Why didn’t he tell the truth as to what he was going to do, to his mother? She knew him the best - was on the same podium spot as YN and Gemma, and she would know how to help him. How to save them. 

“Okay, we’re here, babe. But don’t open your eyes yet.”

Harry dropped her hand, moving towards the speakers. The acoustic version of You’ll Be In my Heart started silently playing. It was YN’s favourite Disney song, from her favourite movie - Tarzan. 

And it didn’t bring her joy now. It caused even more anxiety. All things coming up like dominoes, ready to be shattered. 

“Can I ask you to dance with me, my lady?”

She opened her eyes, immediately wishing she hadn’t done that. The lights were hanging from the willow branches, lilies were scattered around them and near the speaker was a bouquet of her least favourite flowers - tulips. She now knew what was coming and she was terrified. 

"My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm

This bond between us can’t be broken

I will be here don’t you cry"

But YN cried, heavy tears coming down her cheeks. And Harry held her tight, swaying them slightly from right to left. 

“Shhh, I love this song, Harry. Shhh, stop talking, please!” she scolded her boyfriend, pointing at the TV. 

“Okay, okay, Jesus. I’m quiet.” He laughed, finally settling down next to her, throwing his arm behind her shoulders, cuddling her. “Is it your favourite?” he whispered. 

“Yes. I think it’s one of the most beautiful songs from Disney,” she responded in the same whisper, eyes still glued to the screen. 

YN had one of the biggest smiles Harry had ever seen on her face. Her eyes were beaming with happiness and warmth. He couldn’t have helped but smile as well - her bliss was his. Whenever she was happy, he was too. Whenever she cried, he did too. What was hers was his and vice versa. 

“Do you think it’s a good first dance song?” he asked. 

“Maybe.” She thought for a moment and added, “but something more piano-like would be better. This one’s good for proposals. Near a tree with hundreds of lights.”

“You think so?” His mind was already plotting a plan. 

“I know so.” 

When the song hit the last chorus YN dropped his hand while dancing, giving him an oblivious sign to drop on one knee. 

“Harry, please,” she pleaded, tears still going down her face. 

“Let me speak.”

“No, please. Get up, Harry. Stop it,” she was repeating it all over again, praying it all was going to be a nightmare. She was going to wake up next to him like the last five months hadn’t happened. 

He ignored her, “YN, you’ve been in my life for more than three years. You’ve changed it for the batter. Your presence, your appreciation and your involvement in everything you and I did was - was exceptional. The warmth you bring to every room and life you’re in helps people. Words you say and don’t say have power. You make me happy. As well as my family, mum and Gemma love you like a daughter and sister. Your work, which you put so much effort into, brings you so much joy it rebounds on me. You’re the one that I want. You’re the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with,” he paused for a moment, kneeling on two knees. 

He was silently begging her to say yes. 

“YN -”

“Do you still love me?”

Her voice was shaky because of all the crying. He didn’t look at her once today. From the moment he picked her up, through the dinner they had at the restaurant and till the moment she stopped his proposals, he didn’t spare her a glance. It was going to be a nightmare. Everything that she was afraid of from the moment she’d read those two messages, happened and she loathed it. 

He looked at her.

And stayed silent.

You had a speech, you’re speechless, YN thought. 

She learned that day how loud the silence could be. How definitive and thundering it could feel. Terminating.

“Do you?” she choked out.

There was no sound of the voice. Love slipped beyond his reaches. 

Now, it hurt even more than two weeks ago. Not hearing him saying I love you. Man that promised her a moon, made her happy through so many years. Man that she trusted not to ever hurt her, not to ever betray her. He did everything upside down. After so many months together, moments joined and hours longed for - it was done. 

“YN, please.”

“Let me go, Harry.” 

“Please.”

“No. There - there’s nothing to ask. Nothing to do. It’s over, Harry. You know it.”

“Give me a reason,” he cried. 

“I can’t give you a reason, sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘til someone’s on their knees and asks you,” she whispered, her hand stopped mid-movement. She wanted to caress his head. She wanted to hug him, kiss him for the last time. “You couldn’t keep it in, could you?” She laughed through her silent cries. 

Harry looked at her hand, still longing in the air, near his head. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to hug her, kiss her and never let go. He wanted her, now more than ever before. 

If my wishes came true, it would have been you, YN wondered, not being able to stop the waterfall of thoughts. 

“I - I’ll be out of the house in an hour or so. I’ll leave the keys near the flower pot,” she said after a moment of only their crying.

“No, please. YN, baby, please -”

After looking at Olivia's favourite flowers sitting in a bouquet next to the speaker for the last time, YN turned around and started walking away. Harry’s shouts and pleads became smaller and smaller, until she was out of the property where it stopped. 

She halted. 

It was over.

They were over. 

But maybe it was her champagne problems, her thoughts, her doings and her love that caused it all. Caused him to stop loving her, keeping her as a familiarity among the unknown. 

Now, it finally touched her. There was no more suspense, no more uncertainty or insecurity. She knew for sure. He didn’t love her anymore.

And she still did, more than anything. 

It was cold outside. The wind ruffled her hair and made her shiver. She started walking, wanting to be closer and closer to the place she just this morning had called home. 

Maybe it was all her fault. She left him out there standing, crestfallen on the landing. His heart was glass, she dropped it. She pressed him and challenged him, unknowingly causing him to fall out of love. Perhaps it was all her.

“You’ll find the real thing instead. She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shredded,” she said into the void. “She’ll hold your hand while dancing, never leave you standing. And after all, you won’t remember all my champagne problems.”

[theresivy]

PLEASE HELP: SIGNAL B*OST, D*NATE, OR C*MMISSION ME!!

Listed below are the TL;DR, How to Help, and Full story/Context. I’m sorry I had to resort to this but i have no other choice.

TL;DR version

Please help a mentally disabled fan artist’s family to pay for medical debts for c*ncer, insulin, maintenance meds (for depression, anxiety, etc), and cat food

How to Help

D*nations!!! - I only have P*yPal (also thru K*-fi) and GC*sh! Please dm me for the link or QR code

C*mmission me!!! - I really hate asking for help with nothing to give in return, so preferably please c*mmission me. I havent updated my new set of c*mmission sheet samples BUT heres a short, quick version attached on my post as a pic.

B*y my let-go collection of merchandise!!! (PH-based only please and sorry) - In order to try and make up for the em*tional ab*se me and my mom have to go thru on a daily basis just by living with dad, I ended up in a downward spiral and tried to buy things impulsively since 2020. So, now, we’re paying the price and I have been deeply regretting it ever since. So, plsase please please help buy my palugi (selling for a loss) let-go merchandise, theyre mostly official and am selling for a loss, we badly need the space and especially the funds. Weve only sold less than a half of my stock and it doesnt help that my dad keeps mocking me about it.

Share and S*gnal boost!!! - Tumblr is the only site where i have somewhat of an audience. Please please please help reblog, share, and signal boost.

Full Story/Context

Hi, I’m Theresivy (Teh-reese-ivy), I have been depressed and mentally impaired (among other things) who draws art as a multifandom self-taught fan artist, As of 2020 my mom’s tumor has turned into cancer that has only been given medical attention to in 2022 onwards. And as of then, i have indefinitely become a N,E.E.T for my mom and our finance’s sake while being there by her side. As of now she has gone through FOUR surgeries because more and more unexpected complications keep popping up. She doesnt deserve this, why couldnt it have been me,

We live with my emotionally abusive and manipulative dad (her husband) and our two fur daughters Pancake and Waffles (of which my cats and mom mean more than the world to me) while being forced to live in one of the countless apartment complexes my equally abuse maternal uncle (and his wife, my maternal A-I-L) as we have no other choice. And as such, my dad has been kissing their asses since we were forced to move here more than five years ago.

Both my uncle and my A-I-L took it upon themselves to become the defacto head of my maternal family ever since my maternal grandmother passed just because he became rich thru the means of evil entrepreneur practices. We cant do anything lest we want to get kicked and live on the streets. He is a real-life mastermind as he is always a few steps ahead of us, even making it so that his eldest daughter became his perfect pawn of being his personal lawyer. He always has connections and to them we are merely insects.

My parents and the rest of our family dont really see “artist” as anything that could get money rolling in (and day by day my failed attemptes have been proving them right), and on top of that, they see me being depressed and such as being the “freeloading couch potato”. So they keep bringing up how much of a failure I am. Weve been living in such toxic conditions that my mom has developed this sort of stockholm syndrome type relationship with my dad, and her younger brother (my uncle), and his wife (my A-I-L, her S-I-L). At first i thought i could try and save mom but shes too far gone that she strictly forbids me from fending for myself whenever either of the three try to berate me and drive me to tears and breaking down for the fifth time every week.

All i wish now is to be able to pay back at least some of the debt, for my mom and my fur daughters’ sake, and hopefully my own. I have been in a downwards spiral ever since i have been tolerating being the “odd one out” kid from school. in general, and even in the family, its been literal years and my entire life, im tired of being used and tossed to the side, im tired of being the punching bag of a cosmic joke, and im tired of my disabilities. im tired of being useless to the people i care for the most. so please. help us.

My wish now is to be able to help mom and our fur daughters move away from our domestic ab*sers. everything is an endless spiral of dead ends and im sick of it. ive been self sabotaging for years but a small part of me still has hope, please. i dont want to believe that this is where it ends for us. in this world of darkness and cruelty that spits on our faces, only my mom and our fur daughters have shown me the smallest glimpse of happiness. and even then ive failed them by becoming a barely functioning patient of depression. so, please, dont take my sunshines away.

[nikitunez]

꒳​   。   ❤︎  𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝘽𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙎   𖦹   ଘ   ⤹

𐑺 pairing : heeseung x gn!reader 𐑺 genre : fluff, college!au, situationship!au 𐑺 words : 835 𐑺 contains : hugging 𐑺 maya's notes : first fic on the new blog! i had so much fun writing this and i hope that everyone who comes across this has just as much fun reading it! please leave feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! i would really love to know how everyone found it hehe ❤ if you would like to read more from me, my taglist and requests are open as well! but that's all for now, enjoy reading :)

the skies were growing ever colder with the changing seasons, which you were becoming aware of as you strutted down the stone paved pathways on campus alongside your timeless crush heeseung. both of you had just concluded a group study with a few of your other peers and were now headed back to your dorms. you had kindly asked heeseung if he minded walking you all the way to your dorm building, and as per usual, he had agreed without much convincing.

tall street lamps illuminated your path in a golden sheen as you walked in silence, appreciating the serene ambiance of the evening. your jacket wasn't thick enough to shied you from the icy air, but the heat you felt simply from being in such close proximity to heeseung was blanketing your skin, effectively keeping the goosebumps at bay.

as the familiar architecture of your dorm building began coming into view from behind the baren branches of the tall trees that littered the campus, you grew increasingly antsy, wishing that you could find some way to prolong this moment for you did not want to leave heeseung's side just yet.

and it seemed he too subconsciously felt the same way, because subtly he slowed the pace of his steps, wordlessly prompting you to match his stride, thereby successfully holding you back for merely a handful of seconds.

knowing grins rode your lips as you slowly but surely eventually reached your destination. you faced him cheerfully, allowing your grin to blossom into a bright smile, which he mimicked in turn.

"colder than usual today, isn't it?" you asked, officially breaking your seal of silence. "december's finally here," heeseung hummed, nodding in agreement. cutely enough, you noticed the tip of his nose had turned a light shade of pink in response to the temperature.

"this was my reminder to start wearing a bigger coat," you chuckled, rubbing your arms for emphasis. heeseung laughed with you, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his hands fumbled within his hoodie's pocket. "oh, are you cold?" he asked, glancing at you from behind his lashes.

"yeah, kinda," you smirked in slight embarrassment, breathing into your hands to warm them up. "are you," you asked in return, raising your brows curiously.

tilting his head contemplatively, heeseung shrugged, "the longer we stand here the harder it's getting to tolerate," he shared, staring at his feet bashfully. he didn't want to give you a reason to walk away from him, but luckily for him, you didn't want a reason to let him go either.

so you stepped forward, rubbing your hands together and smoothly slipped them inside his hoodie's pocket, pressing yourself against his body with a cheeky grin. you laid your cheek on his chest, seizing his hands with yours to let the warmth from your body transfer to him.

heeseung was as still as a statue, trying his best to comprehend what you had just done, blinking in astonishment once he realized that you were hugging him.

considering how you and him were still dancing on the line of being friends and being lovers, this was a very bold move on your part. but you loved catching heeseung off guard with random bouts of affection like this, making his heart flutter just the slightest bit and leaving him breathless for a few seconds.

laughing in disbelief under his breath, he relaxed, accustoming himself to the feeling of you snuggled up to him like this. he was glad you couldn't see his face right now, for his cheeks had flushed a bright shade of red.

he squeezed your fingers back, as if to say thank you for the donation of warmth. you could feel his heart thundering in his chest, a sensation that triumphantly gratified you.

you swore you could have stood here like this with him forever. the warm and fuzzy feeling you were making each other feel was sweeter than honey. as impatient as it sometimes made you, it was moments like these that made beating around the bush regarding your feelings for each other a little fun.

you hoped this would incentivize him to break free of whatever dormancy he was stuck in and finally ask you out on a date or something. for now, you could only pray.

pulling away from him reluctantly, you took a step back, trying to act as nonchalant about what you had just done so that he would give its purpose some thought when he was alone.

"well then, i hope that warmed you up enough to get back to your dorm without turning into a popsicle," you snickered. heeseung was so flustered he couldn't even hide it. he nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks, watching shyly as you made your way to the door of your building.

"thanks for walking me 'seung. i'll see you tomorrow. good night," you grinned one last time.

returning your smile, heeseung sent you a quick wave, stepping back to the sidewalk contently. "yeah, good night."

© nikitunez

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part Nine)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

Warnings: Allusions to some abuse, sad thoughts, some smut.

I listened to this song pretty much on repeat while writing this because I was in ~in my feelings~, so I thought I’d add it in case anyone else wanted to listen 🤣

⧪

“I insinuated that she’d brought shame onto the court.” 

Hours later, Rhys paced the length of the sitting room, shoes scuffing against the floor in weary steps. Four pairs of eyes followed each of his movements. 

It wasn’t long after you’d left that the evening had died off, the mood unable to pick itself back up. Amren had returned to her apartment, and Elain had taken herself off to bed. Lucien had left the house with barely a goodbye.

Which left Feyre, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta to watch Rhys agonise over his argument with you.

“Of all the fucking words I could have used.” The High Lord yanked a hand through his hair, shaking his head to himself. “Why did it have to be that one.”

Shame. He couldn’t believe he’d plucked that very word from thin air. The one he knew was a verbal weapon capable of slicing deep. And yet, the usually silver-tongued High Lord had found himself so bested by his own anger that the stupid fucking word had practically fallen from his mouth. 

Much to everyone’s surprise — even her own — Nesta was the one to pipe up with a response. From the settee she shared with Cassian, she sat up, her eyes on Rhys’s desperate pacing. 

“Is it truly so bad — what you said?” She asked. “Surely Y/N will come round once she’s calmed down.”

And Nesta could be forgiven for really thinking so — anyone could, who wasn’t privy to the true weight behind Rhys’s words. But this was bigger than some petty argument between siblings — this would not just blow over. 

“That word,” Rhys murmured, finally falling still as he opted to perch on the arm of Feyre’s chair. “Our father would use it as a weapon against Y/N. For no other reason than to hurt her.”

Feyre’s soft features pinched. “But why?”

“Their father hated Y/N.” Cassian spoke up. “And he never tried to hide it, either. We all saw it for ourselves.” 

Azriel nodded his agreement. 

“That’s absurd.” Nesta pursed her lips. Even her own strained relationship with her father hadn’t ever destroyed the love he had for her until his last breath. It seemed…unthinkable. “What reason could your father possibly have had to hate her?”

“He never wanted another child.” Rhys stared forward like the memories were playing out before him. “He was never a natural parent, but…he could tolerate me. But he resented that my mother fell pregnant again so many years later. And for her to birth a girl who also lacked the Illyrian traits I’d inherited from my mother.” He shook his head. “His hatred was irrational and it consumed him. On the rare occasions he visited Windhaven, he didn’t try to hide it. And it seemed to just worsen with every year my sister grew.”

Feyre shifted in her seat. “Did he…hurt her?”

Rhys’s face was complete, icy rage as he nodded stiffly. “Sometimes. He’d disciplined me before, of course — when I was too young to defend myself. But with Y/N…he seemed to go out of his way to find reasons to punish her. He stopped when I found out about it and threatened to rip apart his mind from the inside out. But that didn’t prevent him from wielding verbal weapons. He made sure that Y/N was completely aware of how he felt about her. That he had no love for her. That he was ashamed of her.”

And Rhys had more or less said the same thing.

Feyre rubbed his arm soothingly. Nesta watched. Cassian seemed to be reflecting on those awful times gone by as he idly played with Nesta’s hair.

And Azriel — Azriel was pure, still rage in the chair in which he sat. He didn’t dare open his mouth; wasn’t sure what might come out. If he didn’t get out of there and take to the skies soon, he may just snap. His shadows whispered to him to calm. 

What none of them realised was that the focus of his anger was not on the past. 

No — he’d spent many hours fantasising about how he would have destroyed Rhys’s father if he’d been given the chance. His hatred for him had been a living, tangible thing. To have seen first-hand the way the coward had treated his own daughter—

But tonight — here, like this — anger like nothing else he’d ever felt was directed at Rhys. It was building inside of Az by the second, a carnal, feral thing that inexplicably yearned to protect, to defend, the victim of Rhys’s vicious words. Az couldn’t understand it himself; he didn’t try to. There was no time for that. If he didn’t get out of there soon, he’d snap. 

Not stopping to worry about how his behaviour might be perceived, he stood. 

He strode out of there without a word. 

⧪

I’m sorry.

The parchment appeared out of thin air, floating down and — smacking you square in the face. You clenched your jaw. It was the third note that morning. 

The other two lay discarded on your desk, Rhys’s handwriting peeking up at you and begging you to answer. You took all three, screwed them up and threw them into the fire. 

Five minutes later, another note appeared: Please just talk to me.

Your jaw clenched again. You were going to lose your shit. You grabbed a pen so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t snap in two. Practically tore through the parchment as you scratched back: I’m working, Rhysand. 

You watched the note disappear, leaving an empty space in front of you. It was seconds before more parchment materialised from thin air.

I hate it when you call me Rhysand. He’d written. And beneath it: Tell me about the strangest patient you’ve seen today.

Little did he know, you weren’t working at all. Little did he know, you’d asked Madja to take over at the clinic while you shut yourself in your house, all the curtains drawn, and familiarised yourself with the burn of whiskey. 

You poured yourself another glass, mulling over whether or not to reply to your brother’s note. It had been five days — barely long enough for the hole he’d punched in your heart to begin healing. You needed time, space—

Another piece of parchment appeared: It’s Starfall soon. Can’t we sort this?

Gods, Starfall. You couldn’t — you couldn’t even think about that right now, on top of everything else. Your head and heart were both already crammed full to the brim. If you thought too hard about Starfall, you’d think about that night. The stupid, attempted kiss on the balcony. 

And how everything had changed since then. Damage that seemed to be irreparable. What had once been a close friendship with Azriel was nothing but a withering memory now. It could be nothing else as you respected his wishes — kept well away from him. 

And you didn’t even have Lucien, now, to ease that ache with his wicked humour.

I just need some space, you eventually wrote back. You needed a lot more than space; a magic fix to this fucked-up situation, perhaps. A chance to go back in time and undo what you’d done. A chance to be better so you never could have brought shame down on anyone. 

It worked, though. After the parchment disappeared before your eyes, the space it had occupied remained empty. Rhys didn’t write again. 

You took the bottle of whiskey, and you drank until you slept.

⧪

The male was handsome in a soft, subtle way, you supposed. 

Short blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. Tall with just a hint of muscle. Pretty — that was the word you’d use to describe him. He was pretty. 

The kind of male you may have noticed in a crowd once upon a time, had your heart not been snatched up by the Shadowsinger. Every other male had paled in comparison since. 

But that was okay. That didn’t matter. You weren’t here to have your heart snatched up again. You were here to forget. 

Across the tavern, a female strummed a lute, the chords seeming to reach across the room and caress you, coaxing you into its sensual song. Every inch of you was warmed — perhaps by the music. Perhaps by the alcohol. Perhaps by the male’s hands that had started with just a cautious palm on your back, and had snowballed in confidence, in intensity, as the night had worn on. Now, his soft thumb stroked against the skin of your neck as he leaned in to speak into your ear. 

“I’m a jeweller.” He told you, his voice slightly raised over the music, the chatter. “I work for my father. Haven’t been doing it for very long.” 

That much was obvious. With velvety hands so untouched by years of work—

You didn’t care. Such useless, useless information. He could be a grocer or an artist or a fucking hermit for all you cared. The night would still end the same way. You shot him a seductive smile that said you were totally invested in what he was saying and pushed his half-finished drink towards him.

“Drink up.” You said. “And we can go back to mine.”

Those blue eyes of his flashed darker, hungrier. In one big gulp, the liquid in his glass was drained. His tongue swiped a bead of whiskey that lingered on his bottom lip. 

If he knew who you were — his High Lord’s sister — he hadn’t given it away. Maybe it didn’t bother him. Maybe it wouldn’t be an annoying obstruction for you tonight, thank the Mother. 

Three weeks. Rhys had given you three weeks of space — had told the rest of the family to give you space — and you still didn’t feel ready to face them; not even Mor. You couldn’t bear the suggestion of what they might think behind your back — that you’d been living in pure self-indulgence while they needed you the most. That you’d been the disappointment. Rhys probably wasn’t even aware of the deep, buried feelings that his loose words had unearthed in you. That slicing, aching inferiority complex that had followed you throughout every step of your life. 

Maybe you didn’t even deserve to be part of the Inner Circle. The Night Court. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be Rhys’s sister.

It was these thoughts that had pawed and prodded at you every day for the last few weeks. You were sinking deeper and deeper, and your only relief was losing yourself in the burn of alcohol and the arms of a stranger, finding pleasure for a few hours that would leave you even lonelier afterwards. If the males and females you took to your bed didn’t baulk at who you were, and run in the other direction in fear of their High Lord’s disapproval, you were at least afforded a bit of respite from the constant shadow hanging over you. 

Never did it last.

You’d had enough of pleasantries, of small talk. Not wanting to wait a second longer for that temporary relief, you yanked the male up, barely sparing him a glance as you pulled him out of the tavern.

“I never got your name.” He said, his voice considerably louder as he followed you out into the cold night air. 

“I’m nobody.” You told him, dragging him along. “Absolutely nobody.”

True, a voice in your head hissed at you. Too true. 

And you couldn’t be sure — maybe you were more intoxicated than you’d realised — but you could have sworn that your words were swept away on a sudden wind, caught up in a passing shadow, all produced by the thunderous beat of wings above you.

⧪

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His hands were like ice against your skin as he tugged at the laces of your dress. The two of you stumbled into your bedroom, teeth clashing and breaths huffing.

“You look like — like an angel.”

Gods, if he didn’t stop talking—

“I’ve never seen—“

“Shh.” You silenced him with a hard kiss, pushing him down onto your bed. “Fuck me.”

He grunted at your words, those too-soft hands finally pulling the dress from your body; you’d not bothered with underwear tonight, deeming it too much of an obstruction. Without even looking at him, you practically tore his breeches open and yanked them down, freeing his length from the confines. He gripped himself, pumping his cock a couple of times before lining it up with your centre. 

“Fuck.” He gasped as you sank down onto him. Immediately, you began to move your hips, and his hands landed on them in a delicate grip. 

“Don’t be gentle.” You moved faster, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your breast.

His touch was tentative, unsure, as he squeezed. “Are you sure? I don��t want to hurt—“

“Yes.” You hissed between your teeth. “Harder.”

He flipped you both over in one single move, your back hitting the mattress. As if your words had given him confidence, he slammed back into you, the different angle causing a slight pinch of pain. Good. Exactly what you wanted. 

Your head fell back, breathy words telling him to go faster, harder, to grab you until his fingers bruised your skin, to bite you hard enough to draw blood. He was just getting to a rhythm that might actually bring you to release, hitting a delicious spot deep inside you, when it happened. 

A flash of darkness. Of movement. Your bedroom door being opened so violently, it slammed back against the wall. The male was ripped off of you. 

Azriel was there, huge and towering, so much bigger than the male who had been inside you only seconds ago. He’d grabbed him by the throat.

“Get the fuck out.” He growled, shoving him out of the room. He snatched the scraps of his clothes from the floor, throwing them in his direction. Within seconds, the front door was banging shut. 

You barely had a chance to sit up, to cover yourself with the sheet, before Azriel turned to you. The hazel of his eyes was darker than you’d ever seen — dangerous, threatening. 

“What the fuck, Azriel?” You snapped. “What the fuck are you—“

Your words cut off as you watched him stalk towards your armoire. He didn’t stop to glance at the tunic and leggings that he pulled out — simply threw them at you, his jaw moving. 

“Get dressed. You need to come with me — now.” He said through gritted teeth. “We need a healer.”

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

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[octoagentmiles]

Headcanons about Paani and Natquik's relationship and how they met? 👀

uh well actually ik it's kinda wild n out there but I headcanon they met like this:

/s /lh fhdhdjdbsk sorry I'm not 100% sure what you want from me here?? 😅

but!! as for their relationship—at the end of that ep Paani says he's going to stay with Natquik for a little while, so that they can continue to study the flowing water that they found together, but we never actually get to see this ourselves. so!! it's extremely possible that Paani and Natquik are buddy-buddy now, but we just haven't gotten to see them interact since their friendship started!!

so 👀. some hcs 🤲 ↓

474637942749 years ago I made a post talking about how while yes, Paani is obviously a lot like Kwazii, he also has just as much in common with Barnacles. it's just more subtle.

I think that during their time together, Natquik probably would've picked up on that. Natquik's been alone for forever, and has been shown struggling when he's forced to share private space with others—but I think once he started to notice Paani's similarities to Barnacles, he became an infinitely more tolerable roommate.

... however.

one of Natquik's biggest grievances with Red (*the red fox) was how he ruined what would've been his "peaceful and quiet" vacation.

and. um.

... that's not exactly Paani's specialty.

so they likely had to get used to each other's *style* the hard way at first.

Paani's not the type to intentionally start conflict, or even get outwardly annoyed with others (from what we've seen so far anyway). he's very easygoing, and even if it confuses him, I can see him accepting the way Natquik works pretty quickly.

but he does have a habit of doing things without asking first, or considering how his actions may indirectly affect others before doing them, in the name of The Greater Good™ (such as stealing the GUP-H so he could bring water to the elephants). the Octonauts can forgive him easily, because he *does* usually end up saving the day,

but. uh.

Natquik's not as chill (ironically) with that.

so!! it's sorta less of them having to get used to each other, and more Natquik having to get used to Paani lol

Paani absolutely ended up meeting Natquik's penguin fam while he was staying with him, and they immediately loved him (as all birds he meets do), which GREATLY helped Natquik warm up to him.

maybe they also told Paani about how Natquik's just having a hard time, 'cause of how long he spent alone. and Paani, who was alone for an indefinite length of time himself, until he was found by the Octonauts... decides to open up to Natquik.

they talk for a bit.

then Boom! Friendship™ 🌠🌈 [INSERT CONFETTI CANONS 🎉🥳] !!

okay there was probably more to it than that, but we don't know how LONG they were roomies for—could've been only a few days, or a month, max, knowing Paani's dislike of staying put for too long lmao.

either way, I'd love to see them meet again, after having gotten to know each other. I think they'd make a really cool dynamic, if they were to go out on a real adventure or mission together. they MET in that episode, but they didn't really interact much—Paani was on his own, and Natquik was with Dashi in the Octoray.

and Natquik desperately needs more screentime anyway 👁️👁️

[nightcolorz]

I must confess something, I do not understand white Vox lol is it just his VA? He may be just a TV with a body but his eyes seem to be drawn as east asian and thats his most prominent human feature. Majority of the time I see people draw him as a human they actually erase his real eye shape to (I assume) make him look more white. There's no real canon so people can hc whatever but I am so intrigued by how people are interpreting him white. I promise there are nasty tech/media ceos that overwork their employees all over the world... maybe im reading too much into it because the show is otherwise verrrry western-centric. Just curious how you view it, you're definitely in the majority and i realize people like me are the outliers but just saw your post and had to ask (if you didnt mind sharing).

Anon is referring to this post btw for context: https://www.tumblr.com/nightcolorz/746235899544813568/my-hot-take-is-that-i-think-that-a-vox-human?source=share

Anon ur hella polite and ik u got good intentions so I was stressing a little over how to respond without invalidating ur headcanon cuz like, I never want to be the guy saying “this character is white and u can’t headcanon them as a racial minority” cuz that’s pretty shitty no matter what. We definitely have different takes but when I’m explaining my interpretation I don’t wanna sound like I’m trying to boss ppl around and say there’s only one way u can see these characters. This is just my personal interpretation and I was being funny in my og post implying that my interpretation is the “correct” way. But since u asked I’ll explain my reasoning why I (and prob other ppl) see Vox as extremely white lol.

I don’t take Vox’s physical appearance into account at all when thinking about his ethnicity cuz in a show were everyone is pretty racially ambiguous design wise Vox is one of the most ambiguously humanoid characters, like my guy literally has a tv for a head with eyes and a mouth, and that’s it. I don’t see ur point about his eyes at all tbh, to me Vox’s vaguely slanted eyes have always come off more like a devious squint than an ethnic feature. Even still I don’t read slanted eyes as Asian automatically so it never occurred to me.

I don’t read as Vox as white bcus of his VA being white or him being a tech bro billionaire (but ig they play a part). I read Vox as white mostly bcus I see his background as a former religious extremist/cult leader from the 50s with a skill in life and in death for male manipulating ppl and using them for his own gain as very white and western. (I got this info from his official reference sheet for auditioning va’s, here that is)

His capitalistic ideals and business practices r meant to mirror (extremely white) billionaires like Musk and Bezos, which adds to my perception of him. Of course being a billionaire tech guy is not a western white man exclusive thing, but I feel that if we were meant to perceive Vox as someone not from America that would definitely be coded or in some way communicated. And I say this with as little ill will as possible, but for me I wouldn’t want to perceive Vox as an East Asian tech bro billionaire specifically bcus there r negative stereotypes and connotations attached there. East Asian men have a history of being negatively stereotyped as corrupt tech business owners. I don’t think u are trying to imply those stereotypes with ur head canon (frankly it’s hard to avoid negative stereotypes in fiction a lot of the time bcus stereotypes encompass such a vast range of things that its hard to take them all into account). But regardless, it’s smth we should try to be conscious of.

Anyways, I also usually take these character’s personalities and values, self image, etc into account when im thinking about race, bcus race is more then color, and especially for characters with lives and personalities based in much less tolerant time periods, it’s significant to consider how race would play a role in forming the way they navigate the world. Based on how Vox behaves I can’t see him as being racially marginalized. I’m gonna compare Vox to alastor a little cuz alastor is canonically creole and I think he serves as a good reference for someone I perceive as not white in comparison to Vox and how I think he differs and contradicts the experiences of a racial minority.

Vox to me comes off as someone who thinks he is entitled to power, respect, privilege, etc, which is a very standard type of attitude for a white man who was alive in the 1950s to have. He’s very emotionally immature and volatile, doesn’t seem to concern much over his public image beyond petty dick measuring contests with alastor (he regularly publicly has angry tantrums and doesn’t break a sweat over how this will affect his status). He obviously cares about it (scolding Valentino for embarrassing him and such) but he doesn’t seem to worry about loss of reputation in any sort of real way. I get the impression that Vox has always had at least a standard amount of social standing and privilege and can’t see a life for himself without the fundamental privilege he feels owed there to support him. He’s basically a man baby, a man baby who still manages to garner power and respect effortlessly (it comes naturally to him) while remaining whiny and insecure. Very white man of him! White man behavior!

in comparison, Alastor, (who I do not read as white) is always frantically clinging to his composed self image and his power as if it will slip away from him if he loosens his grasp at all. He has an extremely firm grip on his composure to the point where he never allows anyone to see him slip at all, let alone frown (despite his mental health and emotional well being being equally fragile as Vox’s). Alastor understands deeply how little the world owes him and how difficult and unreliable his acquiring of status actually is. He is borderline neurotic about retaining his power and staying on top. Despite the smile, Alastor is always defensive and fearful, picking fights with anyone he thinks might be a threat like a small dog or a prey animal would. Meanwhile, Vox conducts himself like a man with nothing to loose. I feel like Vox grew up with money and doesn’t know poverty or a lack of privilege in any intimate way that would drive him to guard it in anyway beyond flippant. To Vox power, status, and privilege are inherent. Same can’t be said for alastor.

tldr in conclusion Vox’s brand of bad feels very specific to a white man, alongside his emotional immaturity and his attitude, mindset, and behavior. This is why I see him as white asf, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong or it’s in anyway less correct to headcanon him as a different race. That’s just how I see him. Thank u for sending the ask anon it was pretty interesting to write! Have a good day! (btw i love Vox he’s one of my fav character lol me calling him a white as shit privileged entitled man baby douchebag is out of love and all I find interesting and fun about him)

[alexanderlightweight]

Omg could we get another part of maybe I’m the villain ? I love your writing!!

This is named ‘maybe I’m the villain’ because saeth said that magnus is delighted by the idea of being one of those villains with a pretty, soft cat on his lap.

thank you! ^_^ i hpe you enjoy!

lumine

— Alexander is shaking under his touch and he’s betrayed his own nature just by his response to Magnus’ own testing rumble.

Perhaps someone without the right knowledge would see Alexander’s large, silken ears and lush, thick tail and think his other form to be nothing other than to be a well-bred, competent housecat, but Magnus knows better.

Alexander is a born predator.

It’s just too bad that compared to Magnus, he is still only prey.

“These hunters the clave sent to me, do you know them personally?” Magnus asks and his voice is casual even as he releases Alec’s ears and summons a drink, his free hand falling to Alexander’s thigh.

“No.”

Magnus rewards the instant honesty with his talons kneading Alexander’s leather clad muscles.

“Do you trust them to listen to you in the field, little shadowhunter?”

Alexander hesitates and then shakes his head.

“If you can’t trust them to follow your orders in the field, then why should I trust them to obey my laws?” Magnus asks and Alexander bites his own lip, using pain to force away the instant answer that undoubtedly would have set him against the clave, verbally at least. Magnus decides to be generous, feeling content with the weight of Alexander on his lap and how soft his ears were under Magnus’ fingertips and claws.

“I will allow them entry—” Magnus decides finally, “but their presence will be tolerated only for so long as you remain where you are. The moment you leave my lap, Alexander, their permission is rescinded and their presence will be a deceleration of war. While I may allow you some leeway in regards to the rest of demands, this one matter is non-negotiable or our deal ends here.”

“The clave expects me to lead them.”

“The clave expected you to negotiate with me.” Magnus cuts in, not about to play these little games when they both know better. “If they can’t be guaranteed to follow your orders then there is no guarantee they will protect you. If you die, kitten, then what is to stop them from claiming ignorance to whatever you and I agree on?”

— Alec knows Bane isn’t wrong.

That’s the thing.

He’s completely accurate in a way that would horrify the clave, simply because it means that Bane is much smart and better informed than they give him credit for. Which, in Alec’s opinion, is stupidity, hubris and hypocrisy at the finest.

If warlocks are the biggest threat as the clave says — and out of all downworlders and even more so than seelies, they are — then they should be taken seriously at all times and respected as the actual threat they are.

However Bane isn’t aware of all of the information — first, that this is being used more as a scare tactic and less of a warning and second, that the clave wants him alive to breed — and Alec is loath to share that information with anyone, but especially Bane.

“I agree.”

Alec’s murmured vow seals between them like a barbed arrow hooking into his heart.

“Are these shadowhunters as competent as yours?” Bane asks and Alec can barely understand him through the strength of the vow, but even he can hear the compliment in Bane’s tone. “Even I’ve noticed the difference in efficiency and talent in New York since you’ve taken charge.”

The praise is nearly too much with the vow still open and pulsing between them and Alec has to do something.

His hands reach out without permission and tangle in Bane’s open shirt and his thoughts swim as he tries to answer, to be honest, to be good, to earn more of the thick, honeyed words that slide down his spine like molten heat.

“No.”

—

Alexander scoffs the word, listless as he blinks and tries to contain himself.

His ears are twitching languidly and his tail has slowly been curling closer as he himself settles more comfortably and heavily into Magnus’ lap. His fingers are long and calloused as they brush Magnus’ chest, seemingly unaware that he’s broken free the last three buttons of Magnus’ shirt.

“They’re Idris hunters.”

Magnus is told quietly, but no less judgmentally and that, Alexander seems to think, is enough of an explanation and perhaps it is.

“Then I can’t trust them not to die on my territory.” Magnus says with a sigh, “and that is a tedious amount of paperwork, kitten. Even as charming as you are.”

It’s not the truth, not really, but Magnus is ever hungry for more and he will take every bit that he can from Alexander. The praise — little as it was — seems to drape itself across Alexander and his tail curls around Magnus’ wrist delicately.

“A little death, in return for each that I have to deal with because of incompetence.”

Charmingly, Alexander seems to have no understanding of what Magnus means and Magnus is met with confusion.

“You want me to kill for you?” He asks, cautiously but not upset by the idea and Magnus wants to know who taught Alexander to so readily step into the role of a weapon.

“I want a far different pleasure than true death, kitten.” Magnus murmurs and he spreads his thighs just enough that Alexander falls closer to him and Magnus can shift his hips up to make his point clear. “For each death I suffer the tedium of paperwork for, you’ll pay me back with my pleasure.”

Pure shock followed by want and hesitation pour across Alexander’s face and Magnus croons deep in his chest even as he viciously yanks on the open vow between them.

“Agreed.”

It’s more of a whisper than anything but Magnus lets it go because Alexander is breathless from the weight of the vow as six promises ties themselves to him, waiting to be called.

“Good boy,” Magnus murmurs absently, pretending he wasn’t waiting to see the way Alexander reacted. To catalog how he shakes at the praise and surrenders more to Magnus.

“Allowing so many nephilim through my wards while still keeping them up is not how I intended on expending my energy tonight. Especially when there is no time frame for how long they'll take.” Magnus makes it an idle remark, instead of carefully calculated and he takes a sip of his drink and enjoys the feeling of Alexander’s tail unconsciously tightening on his wrist.

“Do you need my energy?” Alexander is quiet, sides still shaking even as his brow furrows and he tries to figure out how to get ahead of Magnus this time.

As absolutely tempting of an offer as it is, that will be saved for another time.

Tonight, Magnus wants to play.