#as in a lot of their responses to the storms we get here are 'oh just build your houses better lol fucking dumbasses'

[celaenaeiln]

Was Dick ever mean to Jason when they first met? Because I’ve seen a lot of fanon where it’s implied/shown that he was, but I haven’t seen anything to prove that it’s canon (and I’m happy you’re back even though you weren’t gone long I love your blog)

Aww thank you!!

Ugh I don't know where fanon keeps getting the idea but Dick was never mean to Jason as Robin.

Let's start with the erased version, otherwise known as pre-crisis.

Jason Todd was born to acrobatic parents and also performed in the circus. Here's the interesting bit: it wasn't Bruce who found out about them, it was Dick who was at the circus and cheered them.

Batman (1940) Issue #357

Where was Bruce? He was busy becoming squid food in Gotham.

Anyway Bruce escapes and meets up with Dick who is still Robin and helps him solve part of the crime. As he's discussing the case with Dick, Dick mentions that there may be a connection to Bruce's case and something Trina Todd said.

Yup! Dick becomes friends with Jason's mom <3

Batman (1940) Issue #358

Bruce doesn't trust her but Dick does and Bruce trusts Dick so he accepts.

So Dick goes to meet Trina and her husband but they've already left to sneak into the villain's lair and get caught by Killer Croc. So he chases after them. Barbara joins in as Batgirl but Batgirl and Robin are too late because Killer Croc has already fed Joe and Trina to crocodiles.

Batman's still fighting his own case while all this is happening.

Waldo the Clown takes Jason to the manor and while Jason's in the kitchen looking for food, he finds the door behind the grandfather clock open, goes inside, and finds the batcave.

He finds a trunk of Dick's old suits as Robin and that's where the iconic pre-crisis Jason Robin scene comes -

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Which first of all Jason why are you wearing other people's clothes without their permission? But anyway Jason hears people coming and finds Batman's busy grabbing information with Selina and so he hides in the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin Dick and Batgirl solve the case on their end and find out there's a trap for Batman so they come in and save Batman and his allies. Jason sneaks out of the car and finds his parents are dead so he tries to kill Killer Croc but Dick and Barbara stop him.

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick's just like "oh, you sweetheart."

Dick wants to adopt him but Bruce is like mine because they're both like "It's my fault his parents died, I should take responsibility."

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick was really nice to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

Dick is Jason's idol. He and Dick have a great relationship, so much so that Dick actually passes on the Robin name and suit to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

I could make a meme out of the handshake scene with Bruce being one hand and Jason being the other and in the middle the hands meet is "idolizing Dick Grayson".

So Dick and Jason had a fantastic relationship.

And then some things happen where this Jason wasn't well-recieved by the audience because of the way writers handled the transition from Dick's robin to Jason's so DC realized that they need to make Jason into his own person with his own personality, looks, and story.

So they magic marker erased the previous timeline and now we have the actual Jason Todd that's actually relevant to every comic that comes after.

Yet in this current timeline too, Dick treated Jason sweetly.

Here Dick's first meeting with Jason, he actually saves Jason from the hands of drug dealers.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He let go of his hiding spot to get the new Robin out of trouble.

Jason is not at all happy about this.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And Dick's pissed off because he found out there's a new Robin through a newspaper and he just lost a drug deal he's been waiting on to bailout the new Robin.

So Dick storms off and Jason asks Bruce about Nightwing

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And I'm going to reiterate parts of this post for this part (people please please read this post because tumblr has an image limit and I've explained it in detail there but I can't here)

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

After meeting Bruce, Dick talks about what he's been up to since he left and put Bruce in a good mood before he starts tearing into him.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out, and out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But here's what it means in terms of Dick and Jason's relationship:

Instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, Dick becomes the bigger man and decides to turn Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

It's Dick's approval of Jason and them catching the drug dealers together at the end that cements Jason as Robin. It's his acceptance and good will toward Jason that Bruce is grateful for.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Dick also validates and praises Jason in the comics whenever they meet.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #31

He's basically, "Don't worry about Bruce, if you get in trouble, I'll take care of it."

The only problem is they didn't meet a lot but when they did it was good times all around.

The third version of Dick and Jason's meeting.

In this version holy honking heck. First of all it's a flashback when Bruce fires Dick because he feels like he's too busy with other duties to be with Batman and then after a series of events in present time, it shows that Bruce literally kidnapped Jason and gagged and tied him to a chair. And Alfred's like WTH BRUCE?!

Even more things happen on both sides (curse you 30-image per post tumblr limit) and Bruce essentially makes Jason watch all the videos of Dick and sets Jason's gauntlet test to be a game of tag with Dick.

Dick is completely unaware of all this happening because he's just having fun busting up thugs and playing with Barbara, having no clue that Bruce and Jason are literally watching him livestream through his bike dash cam.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #105

Jason literally shows up while Dick's pondering on a rooftop and is like who're you? Oh wait you're him lol. Move over there's a new robin in town! And Dick's just like WHAT?! He such a little shit about it.

Dick's immediately like okay I'm upset at Bruce but I have to help this new kid out. There's no hesitation, no regret, no anger towards Jason at all. Just pure desire to see him succeed.

Not gonna lie, Jason's just awful towards Dick because he thinks that Dick is his test or something Dick's just like, "can you cool it for a sec?" They soon find out about a huge crime drug activity going on and Dick sorta mentors Jason through it while on the case. I'm not gonna include the panels but it's just Dick and Jason working together. It's fun to read and cute because Dick's protective of him and Jason's like a little bird following a bigger scarier one.

At the end the crime is solved, Jason and Alfred go home, and Dick calls Bruce to tell him this -

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

He was so, so nice to Jason. Actually it's impossible for anyone to treat Jason better than Dick treated him, not even Bruce was this nice to Jason.

In Nightwing (2016) Annual, there's another story of Dick and Jason's meeting. In this case Dick comes over after Alfred calls him and Jason's sulking in his room because Bruce grounded him. He pulls Jason away and they go on a Nightwing and Robin adventure where Dick talks to him, teaches him, and lifts his spirits.

Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual

Dick being mean to Jason is pure fanon, it's so fanon that there isn't even a single comic panel that can be used in support of that horrible idea. He never ignored Jason. Dick makes it very, very clear that his problems are with Bruce won't interfere with his relationship with Jason. He treats Jason as an independent person with his own personality and genuinely looks after and cares for him in every retelling. The only thing is they didn't meet very often but when they did, Dick was such a good brother.

[hedgehog-moss]

I was woken up last night by a sound like a machine gun being fired... loud clak-clak-clak that went on for like 10 seconds and I sat in bed completely bewildered because my brain couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for it. Then I remembered about the thunderstorm warning and thought oh shit, the greenhouse. It could possibly be the sound of thick glass cracking and breaking after a branch fell on it...?

I ran outside in my pyjamas and found the greenhouse intact—then thought oh shit, the chicken coop. Had no idea how a chicken coop could produce such a noise but I ran there anyway, and the coop was fine. It was a dry storm, lots and lots of wind but no rain or hail and I stood there uselessly for a moment, trying to think of other explanations with my 3am brain (not easy), then went to check on the llamas just in case, and I found all three of them standing with very alert ears, staring at a fallen tree—one of the four very tall wild cherries in their pasture.

So that was a relief ! From where I was I couldn't see if the tree had crashed on the fence and destroyed a chunk of it, it seemed possible but I decided that was a problem for tomorrow-me, and in any case it could have been worse. The fact that Pampe was still here boded well (for the integrity of the fence)—but seeing as the llamas were lined up in front of the tree like mourners paying their respects at a funeral, maybe she just felt that taking advantage of the tree's misfortune to immediately escape via the opening created by its prostrate body would be inappropriate.

First thing I saw this morning when I opened my bedroom window was the fallen tree, and I started feeling less optimistic because from afar things really didn't look promising for my poor fence.

(And from up close either)

But the tree missed the fence by just a few metres!

Its branches were tangled up with the other trees' branches and I think some of them slowed its fall until they broke one by one, which would explain the prolonged cracking noises, it wasn't just the trunk. But only 1 branch fell on the fence and it wasn't a large one, so there's no damage!

The God of Fences was on my side last night. :)

Consulted on whether he had been frightened by that loud sinister noise in the middle of the night, Pirlouit declined to comment, as he has more tragic problems right now. Our neighbour made hay recently which means Pirou now has several tonnes of hay staring at him and taunting him just outside his pen, out of reach. He is in a bad mood for reasons that have nothing to do with a stupid tree. It's like if you had to live right outside a pastry shop's window, except worse because you're a donkey (they already find life unfair as it is.)

I wonder if the wild cherry tree will soldier on...? Its roots + part of the trunk are still intact, and there are fallen trees in the forest with only 1 toe still in the ground who take their fate pretty philosophically and just start growing perpendicularly, like okay I guess we're sending our branches in that direction now. I'm going to leave it here and see if it rallies. I think it actually looks pretty breezy right now, it kind of looks like this:

Good luck, wild cherry! Let's see if you still have some life in you...

Oh and since we had a new obstacle, I tried to check if Pandolf remembered the word "Saute !" (Jump) and he does! We did it a bunch of times because I was trying to make him understand that I wanted 1 majestic jump and not his lazy 2-steps solution, but I didn't manage to explain it.

Maybe if I said "no :/" instead of "good great what a dog!!" he would think harder about how to improve his technique, but I'd rather fluff up his ego. Even that ridiculous failure at the end was met with a "yes amazing!!" response from me and he felt like an agility champion instead of a bumbling bag of fur. I'm going to try and get him to find his balance and walk on this part of the trunk, so I expect to see a lot more of his "argh, oops, wait" facial expression :)

[h4ndwr1tten]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

featuring: roommate!satoru x reader

cw: fluff really, strong language? kinda suggestive.

the sudden, thundering sound of what seemed to be a crash had you jolting awake. you immediately sat upright and reached over to your lamp, switching it on and scanning your room on high alert. glancing over at your digital alarm clock, you found that it was only 1:03 in the winter morning. what kind of asshole would partake in destructing something this late?

the first person to come into mind was satoru, your roommate. he tends to stay up as late as possible doing the most random and stupid shit he could thing of. once, you caught him trying to fit himself into the shared washing machine at 3 am. but you remembered that earlier, you were going to confront him about how he left his used boxers and socks on the bathroom floor after his shower. when you stormed into his room, however, he was surprisingly in deep sleep.

so if satoru was slumped, where did the noise come from?

you debated leaving your bed for your safety or staying there, also for your safety, but ultimately decided on quickly checking the apartment for something unusual. quietly groaning, you forced yourself out of bed and into the hallway.

you hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, making you firmly believe it was an inconsiderate neighbor. nothing felt off and you weren't experiencing any sense of doom, so you returned to your bed and knocked right out.

only, an hour later, you woke up freezing. your room felt like pure ice and your body felt like you had been dipped into an ice bath. when did it get so damn cold? you thought, pulling your blanket higher up your body. it was snowing outside, but the cold shouldn't have been able to be felt with the heater on.

you tried to go back to sleep, but you only found yourself shivering despite the blanket. you rubbed your legs together in an attempt to warm you up, but it didn't seem to work. you huffed, irritated and uncomfortable by the temperature change.

getting up for the second time, you threw your blanket over your shoulders and went into the hallway to check the thermostat. there, you found satoru, also checking the temperature.

"cold?" he asked, his voice raspy from probably having been woken up to the same thing.

you hummed in response, watching silently as he tried to figure out what was wrong. he tapped at a few times, pressed the buttons every second, until he noticed that the temperature of the heater wasn't changing.

"it's broken."

oh.

"what? the thermostat?" you question, a little densely, but to be fair, it was 2 in the morning.

"no, the heater," satoru replied, tapping at his lips in thought.

that made a lot more sense. the weather from antarctica couldn't have just magically moved in with you. but did this have to do with the loud bang from earlier?

"satoru," you begin, "i woke up an hour ago because there was a bang, but i checked and nothing seemed broken inside here."

satoru hummed, turning away from the wall and to you. he opened his mouth to speak and you anticipated it, but instead, you watched as his eyes trailed down your frame, eyes falling onto your body. he was silent for a few seconds, visibly gulping. his face felt warm. could you see his pink-tinted cheeks in the dim lighting?

clearing his throat, satoru turned away and pretended to observe the thermostat, mumbling, "yeah, that might have... that might've been it."

confused, you look down at your body to find what elicited his behavior. it took you a second, but you noticed your hardened nipples poking out through your shirt. you forgot that was a thing. your eyes widened and you quickly folded your arms and blanket over your chest, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

"what do we do now?" you asked, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

"how many blankets do you have?"

fuck, they're all in the laundry.

"one."

satoru side-eyed you, slowly turning to face you, his face deadpan.

"they're in the laundry!" you raised your hands in defense, effectively dropping the blanket to the ground.

it seemed to have caught satoru's attention because of the way his eyes moved down to the ground. then slowly up your figure, as if drinking in every part of you. your arms were still hiding your chest and you didn't look all that great right now, considering you were only in pajama pants and a baggy tee. but the way he looked at you made you feel like it was more than just the attire.

you shifted your weight onto one foot, warmth creeping up your neck. you had always felt some sort of attraction towards your roommate, but considering how insanely attractive he was, you thought that he would never even think of seeing you the same way.

but gosh, the way he eyed you like the most valuable treasure there ever was. the way there seemed to be a sort of want, desire burning in his eyes. that was enough to make you question his feelings.

"satoru?" you call, growing antsy under his gaze.

"sleep in my room," he suggests casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"what...?"

he sighed, probably wondering if you were stupid, or deaf, or both. "the heating's down, and it's only going to get colder from here. i say that because we are both mature, grown adults, we sleep in the same bed because right now, shared body heat is likely the only thing that's going to keep us from freezing."

you were stunned, to say the least. that's the most and longest sensible thing to come out of satoru's mouth ever. had he thought of this before?

"i guess you're right," you mumbled, face flushed. "but wouldn't it be awkward?"

"it'll only be awkward if you make it awkward," satoru retorted, opening the door to his room and waiting for you to enter. "we're mature, right?"

you walked into his ridiculously messy room, sighing, "i am, but i don't know about you."

"hey!"

you flopped down onto satoru's bed, a lingering warmth around it from before he got up. your heart began to beat a little faster as he approached the bed, the fact that you were actually about to sleep with someone you've dreamed of sleeping with before.

"y/n?" satoru called out, breaking your stare at the floor.

"yeah?"

"that's my side of the bed."

you blush furiously, scrambling to the opposite side, muttering, "oh, sorry."

but once you were there, satoru goes, "that's also my side."

you snap your head at him, glaring. "what do you mean, this is also your side?"

"i sleep in the middle."

"are you serious?" you sigh, growing uncomfortable.

"yep," satoru said, popping the p and sprawling out across the bed like a starfish. his once (and extremely rare) seriousness was gone, and he was back to his irritating antics.

you sat at the very edge of the bed, nearly sliding off, uncomfortable in the silence. satoru's eyes were closed and his breathing seemed to have relaxed, and you wondered if he was asleep. you wondered if he really meant what he said by sharing the bed too.

"satoru?" you murmured, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"mph?"

standing up, you uttered, "i can just go back to my room, i don't wanna bother you. i'll get warm eventually."

you weren't lying. even though sleeping in his bed felt like a really good idea, both for your comfort and desire, you would hate to be a bother to him.

peeking an eye open, satoru reached for your hand and grasped it, pulling you back down.

"i'm joking, y/n," he sighed, slightly muffled by his pillows. "get in here."

he fixed his position, then opened his blanket to beckon you in. you frowned, snapping, "you basically just said there's no room for me after suggesting we share the bed."

despite that, you still found yourself crawling into the warmth of his sheets. you kept yourself at the edge, though, still afraid of taking up his personal space.

it's quiet for a moment again. you raise the blanket just up to the underside of your nose, nervously picking at the pillowcase. his scent engulfed you; a mix of his cologne and natural musk, with a faint hint of detergent. you realize this is real.

satoru sighs, and to your surprise, he throws his arm around your torso and pulls you into him, your back now pressed against his front. he doesn't take off his arm, but instead, gently runs his cold hand along your stomach as if comforting you.

"i was just messing with you," he mumbles, drowsiness in his voice. "but i'm sorry, you big baby."

realizing what he said, you elbowed him in the ribs, but not too hard to actually hurt him. satoru let out a fake whine, both of you laughing quietly after.

silence fills the two of you, the only noises being shared breathing and city noise from outside. it's quiet, but it's comfortable.

you roll over onto your other side to face satoru, finding him with his eyes already shut and brows barely pinched. even in the dark, you can still make out the outline of his perfect features, from his long lashes to his cold-nipped lips. you'd trace them if you could, but you refrained out of fear of waking him up and the fact that you were in no position to be touching him like that.

"i can feel you staring at me," satoru mumbles, fatigued huskiness in his voice.

you blush, grateful for the lack of light in the room, whispering an apology.

satoru opens his eyes, a faint smile sitting atop his lips. "i know i'm insanely handsome, but sleep," he teased.

"i was actually looking at that fat, glow in the dark pimple on your forehead, but okay," you snort, scooting in closer to satoru's warmth.

his hand darts to his forehead, yelping, "actually??"

you giggle, "no. sleep."

"you suck," he sighs, chuckling before bringing his hand back to around you.

you slowly slide your arm under his and wrap it around his torso, your nerves and hesitation fading when he doesn't make a move to remove you. satoru whispers a goodnight, lips ever so slightly brushing against your forehead. you whisper it back, and sleep comes over the both of you.

maybe the heater should stay broken...

note ��� gave up on my layout D:

m. list

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.

Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.

You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.

“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.

Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.

“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.

“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.

“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.

“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”

“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”

“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.

Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”

“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”

“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”

“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”

“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”

“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.

“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”

You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.

“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”

“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”

“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.

“Surely you recall the old ways.”

“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.

“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”

“She didn’t mention.”

“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”

“She has her staff, does she not?”

“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”

“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”

“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”

Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”

Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.

You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.

You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs. 

You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.

“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.

You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.

Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?

You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.

You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.

You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.

You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.

You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t. 

You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.

You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins. 

You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.

The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.

You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.

The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?

You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.

They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.

She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing. 

You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.

Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.

He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.

You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.

“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.

You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.

“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”

You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.

“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.

“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.

“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.

“Pardon?” You blink furiously.

“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”

“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”

“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”

“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”

“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.

You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.

“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.

You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.

“Stay as you are.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.

“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”

You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.

You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”

You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.

“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”

Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.

He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”

He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.

He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing. 

You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.

Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.

Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.

You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this. 

A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.

He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.

“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”

We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”

He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

Chp.2

[TwstxObeyme!AFAB!reader]

Whoa.. 😳

Thanks for the feedback, likes and reblogs guys~ It really makes me happy that my hard work is appreciated😊

Guys, what gender should my story's Yuu be in? It's quite hard to refer to two different characters with both gender neutral pronouns 😅

READ FIRST; PROLOGUE:1

• • • •

Again; Pronouns used to refer to MC are blue, because MC will be mistaken for a guy a lot.

SYNOPSIS:

With the Opening Ceremony going off the rails for a second time, MC is more than eager to get back home and probably binge-watch their stress away with their emotionally-repressed boys.

Though with the current situation right now, they don't think that will be happening soon.. Oh well, at least they're not the only otherworldly outlier here... *Nightbringer flashbacks intensifies*

$o|0m°N?

On the other hand, Yuu makes a new friend.

Yuu doesn't know if this makes them a problematic person or not, but Yuu is happy that there's someone else in a similar predicament as them in this strange world, even if it meant that their new companion also had to be kidnapped by a problematic school/lowkey-highkey a cult to be here as well.

But of course, there's trouble in the horizon as the whole fiasco in the mirror ceremony caused the students of NRC to keep a close and careful gaze onto the MC. I'm talkin' from but not limited to; The Fish Mafia, Queen of hearts and Evil queen Incarnates, even down to your perfectly normal 500+ year old war-veteran that looks like a child.

Meanwhile, The Devildom, Human world, and The Celestial realm are feeling a sense of something foreboding in the air... It's probably nothing though.. right?......right?? The calm before the storm. Or the calm before anyone barges into MC's room.

Prologue: 2 Electric-boogaloo

Watching the mysterious and somewhat confused-looking student continuously dodge Riddle and Azul's spells with a calm expression, sharp gaze and a frightening precision, Lilia is waiting for the perfect time to jump in.

Preferably when the student ran in front of him so that he could tackle him to the ground.

Crowley isn't doing anything but screech. Again.

Haah....

• • • •

Azul's smile widens when this ever mysterious new student blocks Riddles' Signature spell by quickly spinning his fancy staff into a make-shift shield once again. what an interesting staff, transforming from a necklace into a cane that can be used for offense and defense..

Azul straight up grins he can see Schoenheit's smile and Kingscholar's shit-eating smirk from here, as well as hear Shroud's maniacal giggles when Riddle screeches at the student to just cooperate and that "NO WE ARE NOT A CULT!!!!" "That's what cults always say!"

Prompting a round of laughter from the useles– *ehem* new students in the hall. How annoying..

What an amusing lad.. Though, Azul wonders.. can all his other jewelry transform as well? Besides the earrings, choker, necklace and forehead ornament that he's wearing, the student also has a ring in his middle finger and in both of his ring fingers, a wide bracelet, and even some bangles in his ankles.

And if all of those jewels can transform into something?....Ohhh, then he really needs to get his hands on them asap.

Seeing Lilia gearing up to jump the student, Azul shifted a bit and tried to lead the student closer to Lilia.

Help idk how to describe shit💀

You click your tongue as you got surrounded by Mr. bird-bitch, that red-mf, Solomon-but-from-wish, Columbina's cousin, lion-dude, "I'm a bad-bitch with a sad past" guy, and a floating tablet.

You ended up getting bound by the bird-bitch's whip the moment you tried to leap off a window in your belphie-escaping-his-responsibilities style. Your pact mark of pride flickered, and Lucifer wonders what MC could be dreaming about for their pride to have taken a hit at this time of the night.

You turned your staff back into a necklace by then, so you couldn't really block the whip and that redhead's spell from hitting you.

You had socked Walmart-Solomon in the face though when he sneakily tried to take one of your bangles while you were being yanked back from the window. Satan stirred in his sleep, feeling but not registering the creeping irritation under your skin.

So now you're here, with a collar for your troubles and a whip locking your arms to your body.

You're just about to resentfully summon Lucifer or something when the redhead who collared you with this uncomfortable fugly-ass neckwear started lecturing you and shit about etiquette and how disrespectful you are for trying to leap out the window and how you should be honored to be there blahblahblah—

Hell no. You ain't letting this short-pimp talk to you like this. (You should really stop hanging around too much with Asmo. Or Levi when he's being a hater on the internet.)

Satan stirred once again, starting to rouse from his slumber as he felt your irritation start to turn into embers of anger.

Lucifer furrows his brows, feeling a rush of indignity that can only have come from you. But why? Weren't you in bed? He hasn't felt you leave through any of the detection barriers he'd set up around your room so you should still be inside, right?

"I think it's much more disrespectful to have your fuckin horses kidnap someone straight from their goddamn bed just to attend a little ceremony they've never even heard of."

You narrow your eyes as you see the bird-man and goons look taken aback in varying degrees of obviousness. (A figure near the mirror perked-up; 'Maybe this person is in a similar situation as them!')

Bruh, what the fuck did they expect??

• • • • •

The Vice-prefects of all seven dorms lead the new students out of the Ceremony hall, leaving behind the five (sorry Mal. Also, Jamil's ass definitely dragged Kalim out with him.) dorm leaders with the headmaster to solve the issues of the sTiLl-uNdEr-tHe-efFecTs-oF-tHe-teLepoRtaTioN-sPelL new student who utterly refuses to cooperate with them.

Riddle is about to combust, Leona wants to go back to bed only to be dragged back by the headmaster—, Vil wants his beauty sleep but was dragged back by that petty bitch, Leona—, While Idia and Azul decided to stick around for their own personal reasons. ("He looks like an anime character—" "Brother, I don't think it's good to be taking pictures of someone without permission—" "AHH–! O-ORTHO?!")

While Yuu is.. hiding behind the mirror.

(The kinda-silver haired guy seems to be in his seventh ritual of making sure his face didn't get bruised from the solid right hook to the face he got.)

(Yuu would've felt bad for him if the guy didn't have such a shady smile on his face while he was massaging his punched jaw.)

Meanwhile...

"Oy human, it's me!"

Mammon knocked on MC's door, fully intent on bothering their sleep and cozying up on their bed again.

He waited for a few seconds, no answer.

He knocked again.

No answer.

... Look, it's not like The Great Mammon is worried or anything but this is strange..

The human always answers their door after a knock or two even if it's the middle of the night.

... Dammit.

Mammon is full of grumbles as he consciously sharpens his senses, tryna sense his the human.

They better not be ignoring him or he'll–

Wait.

What? W- wait a second..

• • • •

The quietness of the night in the House of Lamentation vanished as the sound of a door being busted down rang out.

It's other residents could barely even register the sound before a shout rang out. A shout that sent dread right into their cores.

"MC?!"

← Pr. 1 | Chapter List | Prologue 3 →

'What the?! Why can't I summon them??'

Elae: Hehe~ I'm back with some food~

Thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter😊

Btw, do y'all want Yuu to be a love interest?

How do I tag ppl??

[luvring]

"PICNIC DATE"

timeskip osamu x gn!reader | this one's cute. there's no actual picnic date though

a picnic date seemed like a perfect date idea for osamu.

he promised he’d handle the food, always happy to impress you with his cooking—not just onigiri, but a new recipe he’s been practicing to surprise you. he could imagine it: a warm sunday afternoon, the checkered blanket, him taking everything out of a picnic basket, the sun setting over the park’s hill and the air getting chillier, compelling you to cuddle up beside him.

so why, he wonders, are there storm clouds rolling in?

your head is tilted up, eyes narrowing at the grey skies. if there was one thing osamu was correct about, it was that the air would get colder. a wind pulls at the edge of the blanket underneath you and messes up his hair, sending shivers down his spine as it blows through his shirt.

“’samu, you checked the weather, right?”

“hon, ’course i did,” he defends himself quickly with a frown. “i swear i would’ve known if there was a storm coming.”

“okay, well, i don’t know how to tell you this, but i’m pretty sure there’s a storm coming.”

osamu groans, letting his head fall to rest on your shoulder. “don’t say that. we walked here.”

resting your head against his, you bring a hand up to rub his arm, both to comfort and keep him warm. “maybe it’ll go away?”

it doesn’t, of course.

there’s maybe a ten minute window where you both decide to pack up and get moving, speed walking back to your apartment, concluding you could just come back another day.

but then the rain starts.

and it comes down hard.

you wonder how movies manage to romanticize this.

the picnic basket hits osamu’s thigh as he runs, and the blanket quickly becomes drenched in your arms, not any different to your clothes as you become soaked to the bone.

rain slams onto the both of you in buckets, the pressure like hail because of the sheer amount. you bump into osamu as a gust of wind catches you off balance, and he uses his free arm to keep you up.

“samu—” you try to shout above the storm. your voice manages to get his attention, because he quickly grabs your arm to wrap around him and he lifts his jacket to cover your head as much as possible.

“samu,” you repeat yourself.

he moves closer so you can hear him. “you okay? y’want me to carry the blanket or anything?”

“i—” you cut yourself off, the rain still hammering down, and suddenly a muffled loudness pelting the jacket above you.

and you laugh.

to be honest, you don’t even know what you wanted to say before. maybe you called osamu’s name just to make sure his was there. thunder booms, and the rain hurts against your back and arms, and there’s so fucking much—”this fucking sucks!”

you trip over your own foot for a second, and start laughing even harder. “seriously, i can’t see shit! what the fuck?”

and your boyfriend who falters when you do, starts to laugh too. “we can—oh, fuck off—we can hide out in the convenience store, alright?”

osamu swears at the picnic basket repeatedly scraping against his arm—”why do they make picnic baskets such ass?”

his complaint alongside your laughter and running is keeping you out of breath, and all you can do in response is hold onto him a little tighter, laugh a little louder.

by the time you get to the convenience store, osamu’s certain he looks like a dog who just got thrown into a bathtub way too big for it, but “at least y’look as good as always.”

“oh, shut up,” you snort, breathing heavy and your hands on your knees.

“sorry for…this,” he apologizes to the person at the register. they shake their head and tell the both of you not to worry after you apologize too.

apparently aisle six has towels and clothes if either of you needed them, and the washroom had just been cleaned, though you were welcome to rest as long as you needed.

you both thank them, deciding to stay on the mats anyway until you were dry enough to not drip water everywhere you walked.

it's a lot quieter inside.

everything outside is muffled and you can finally hear yourself breathe. there’s an audible humming from the freezers, and the weather forecast plays on the television against the wall, warning everyone else about your first-hand experience.

osamu’s the first to speak, his voice defeated and quiet. “sorry this is how we spent our sunday afternoon.”

he’s pouting when you look over, and your chest tightens at the sight.

“it’s okay, ’samu. we can go home and still do something. there’s not a lot we can do about a thunderstorm,” you comfort him and wrap your arms around his waist.

drops of water fall from his hair and hit your skin as osamu hugs you back, pressing a kiss to your temple. he sways you from side to side, and you watch the rain slide down the store’s glass doors. “i dunno, i could still go fight the clouds.”

“yeah, i’m sure if you punch enough rain it’ll scare them away.”

“i am pretty scary.”

“your head has never looked flatter.”

“hey.” osamu pinches your waist and you jolt against him. the both of you snicker as you hit his hand and his hold around you tightens. you intertwine your fingers with his hand that pinched you with a smile. “i’m kidding.”

he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair anyway.

“i feel like i just got thrown into a washing machine,” you suddenly mutter.

your boyfriend hums. “at least there was no spinning?”

“oh yeah? us against a tornado next?”

osamu softly laughs at the thought of trying to outrun a tornado, or spinning in it alongside a house and cow as if you were a cartoon. “if we try to have a picnic again and a tornado hits, i’m gonna be mad.”

a laugh escapes you and you nod. “fair enough. no tornado, then.”

“no tornado.”

really, he doesn’t know what he’d do if that ever happened. but osamu thinks he could handle it.

he looks at you smiling despite how much he can feel you shivering and the fact that your lunch was inevitably ruined, and he thinks he'll be okay as long as he has you there, running and laughing with him until the storm was over.

happy birthday again 2 the twins. i write for tsumu more than samu so here i am ^___< (once again) inspired by the time me and my friends were having a picnic and it started storming. couldnt see shit then my SANDAL BROKE WHILE I WAS TRYING TO RUN omfg crossing the road so embarrassed.. all those people witnessing me.. i said once again bc ive definitely talked abt this but What if im lying? hm...

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpink @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie

[sunlightmurdock]

Not really a thot, but older bf Bradley taking care of you while you’re on your period 🥺 maybe it’s early on in your relationship, you’re at his place and it’s the first time you’ve gotten it in front of him, and he’s being his usual affectionate self who can’t keep his hands off of you, but you end up telling him that you think you’re gonna go home because you’re embarrassed to tell him you don’t want to have sex because of your period. I just feel like once he gets the truth out of you, he’d be so sweet about it and doting on you and doing everything in his power to make sure you’re comfortable!

You debate even going over to his place, because it’s still very early in your relationship with him and truthfully — the two of you have a lot of sex. Like, every time you see each other kind of sex. And that’s great, you love that.

But period sex isn’t really on your radar on this particular occasion, you’re just feeling crappy and uncomfortable. You spend the morning weighing up your options, and ultimately decide to see him anyway. As uncomfortable as you are, the thought of having his thick arms around you makes it sound slightly more bearable.

So, he picks you up and greets you with a kiss as you slide into his passenger seat. The plan is for you to spend the night over at his place through the storm that scheduled to hit that night. You try to act as cool as possible about the way you’re feeling, but he can see straight through you.

Even then, he’s careful to not question too much. Just a simple, “You’re awfully quiet today, honey.” while you’re at a stop light. You give him a quiet, basic response. He shoots a look across at you and gives your knee a gentle squeeze.

Then, as the two of you settle onto his couch to watch a movie, Bradley sets the popcorn on the coffee table and settles into his seat and then pauses. He’s silent as you sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder. His brows are furrowed as he turns his head to look at you.

“You okay, baby?” He frowns. Usually you would make yourself comfortable in his lap, or at least curled into his side. The way you’re sitting now is aggressively platonic. Borderline polite. Like it’s the first time you’re meeting him.

“Mhm. Fine.” You answer quietly, looping your arms around his and resting your head against his shoulder. Bradley kisses the top of your head softly and tries to let it go, turning his attention back to the movie. His fingers stroke absentminded circles on the nape of your neck as it plays on.

Halfway through, you get up to go to the bathroom. You’re gone a while, collecting products from your bag in his bedroom before you actually go. When you come back, Bradley smiles softly at you and reaches out in your direction.

“Come here,” He nods for you to come closer, fingers curling around your palm and giving you a gentle tug towards him. A sheepish look plasters itself across your face. “Please? — Sit with me for a second?”

You hesitantly move forwards to sit against his thigh. Bradley leans in, kissing your mouth once. You kiss back, but he can feel the difference. Still figuring you out, Bradley cups your jaw and turns your face towards him, kissing you again. You’re practically rigid against him.

“Alright, what’s the matter?” He doesn’t let go of your face. His brown eyes study your features, concern coating his face.

“Nothing. I think I just want to go home, maybe.” You mumble, starting to push away from him. Bradley catches your waist, his brows knitting together firmly.

“What? — Why?” He frowns at you. He can see the nerves on your face, and you’ll barely look him in the eye. “Baby, talk to me, please. Come on, let me fix it.”

Looking down ashamedly, you inhale slowly and exhale even slower. “… Is it okay if we don’t have sex tonight?”

He’s silent for a second and all of your fears scramble to the forefront of his mind. He doesn’t mean to make you panic. It just hurts him that you think you have to ask that.

“Baby, oh, baby…” He breathes out, wrapping his arms swiftly around your middle. You’re quiet as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Of course it is. I don’t need sex, tonight or any time that you don’t feel like it.”

You close your eyes, squeezing your arms tight around his shoulders as the relief floods through you.

“I’m so sorry. Have you felt like this before?” He frets, his big palms running soothingly along the length of your back as he presses you close to him. You shake your head.

“Just today.”

Bradley kisses your neck once, pulling back to look at your face again. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You agree quietly. Bradley draws close and kisses your temple. He exhales deeply as he pulls you into another tight hug. This time it’s him that’s flooded with relief. He can’t stand the thought of you worrying about something like this.

“Look, it’s completely okay to just not want to, but I just want you to be honest with me — did I do something? — Did I hurt you, or-“

“No!” You frown at him, pushing his shoulders so that you can look at his face. You kiss the bridge of his nose softly, then the freckles on his cheeks. Finally, his mouth. “You didn’t do anything. I just… I’m on my period, and I don’t feel that good.”

Bradley breathes out, “Oh. Okay. Are you comfy in what you’re wearing?”

You glance down at the cute outfit you had worn for his benefit, then look back to him silently.

“Go and change. You feel sick or anything? — Can I get you anything?” He stands up and sets you swiftly on your feet, stroking a hand tenderly over your hair. You shake your head and walk to his room to change calmly. You took medicine before you came and it’ll be a while before you can take more.

Bradley doesn’t have a heat pack to hand, but it doesn’t matter much when he lays you down against his chest and massages the painful spot at the small of your back while the movie plays on in front of you. Periodic head kisses keep you from drifting off as the steady sound of his heartbeat tries to do the opposite.

When you admit later in the night that you’re still not sure about sleeping over, he offers to pack his things and spend the night over at your place so that you’ve got your home comforts. He makes room for your products in his bathroom so that you don’t have to pluck them from your overnight bag.

The plan was always for him to cook for you that night, but he goes above and beyond to make sure that the food is every bit as filling and comforting as you could want. He coaxes you into his bed and promises that everything is going to be just fine. It’s clear that you’re exhausted. It’s beyond obvious that you love being held by him.

He wraps his arms tightly around you and curls against your body, trailing his fingers in soothing circles around your sensitive abdomen until you finally fall asleep.

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Dynasty of Flames

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader

Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon’s firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth. 

Warnings: Incest (duh), violence, blood/gore, swearing.

Part 1,

Part 2

"Who's that from?" Baela asked as she watched Y/N read a letter she'd received only a few moments ago by raven. It bore a seal that the older girl recognised all too well and by the look on Rhaena's face, she seemed to recognise it too.

"It's that one-eyed arseling" she told her twin.

After the incident that resulted in the loss of Aemond's eye, Daemon's entire family and Rhaenyra's left for Dragonstone where they were wed. Y/N quite liked the princess, her sons however were the ones she found slightly difficult to get along with at first. Especially since she hadn’t taken their side when all hell broke loose the night Aemond claimed Vhagar.

But over the years, they all started to grow comfortable around each other, though Y/N would have to admit that she still found it unfair that Luke never received so much as a stern scolding for what he'd done that night, granted it was unintentional.

"Why do you still write to him?" Baela asked, quiet annoyed at her older sister "He punched me"

"Didn’t you say you punched him first?" Y/N casually mentioned but then winced. She did not mean to take the prince's side over her sister's "Sorry I did not mean to- all I'm saying is, that happened years ago. He was only ten and I'm sure he's a changed man now"

"I agree people change" Rhaena wrapped her arm around Y/N's, as she politely spoke "but he did steal my dragon"

"He claimed Vhagar. I know it was mean of him to not let have your chance at claiming your mother's dragon but we all know he did not steal her" you corrected, earning another annoyed sigh from the girls "Oh come now, you know Dragons don’t just let anyone ride them. If she did not bond with Aemond, he would be burned alive"

"It annoys me that you still take his side. I know he's your friend but we're your sisters" Baela scoffed. This wasn’t the first time you lot had argued over this subject "he's arrogant and-"

"And the boy who paid with his eye that night. Keep in mind Luke was responsible for it and was let off the hook without so much as a slap on the wrist" Y/N interrupted. She hated fighting with her sisters "You know I love you girls, I would never choose anyone over the both of you but you do have to admit as much as it was unfair to you, it was equally unfair for him as well"

"I'm not doing this again" Baela arose from where she sat. She was the short-tempered one out of the three of them "I'll be in my chambers"

Y/N heaved a sigh as she watched her younger sister storm out. She would go after her but she was presently too keen on reading what Aemond had written to her. The older girl turned to look at Rhaena, who was the sweeter, more timid one. "Go talk to her will you? I'll find you both in a bit" Y/N said with a soft smile and Rhaena obliged to what her sister asked.

Once the girl left, Y/N once again turned to read what Aemond had written. They did not write to each other often, just a few times here and there to tell one another of a few things happening in their lives.

"...the last time I wrote to you, I mentioned that I had a rich-green emerald replace the empty eye socket. Well, I took into consideration of what you said about a sapphire looking much better so I switched out the green gem for the blue one and I must admit I like it better.."

Y/N smiled to herself.

"Y/N?" Daemon called out as he stood by the door, pullling away his daughter's attention from the letter "care to explain what caused yet another fight between you and your sisters?"

The princess sighed, something she was doing a lot lately. She put down the letter and turned in her chair so that she was facing her father.

"It's about my friendship with Aemond, kepa. The girls do not seem to approve of it" she told him as she watched her father slowly walk in and sit at the edge of her bed "I won’t deny that he can be a bit much, but everyone has flaws"

"Oh so that's the reason for the argument this time" he chuckled "and the previous time?"

"That was when they tried to defend Jace and Luke by saying Aemond called them bastards" the girl told him to which he reacted with a smug smile, something that had her puzzled "what’s funny about that?"

"I love my wife Rhaenyra and her sons the same way I love you girls but" he stood up to walk toward her and lowered his voice as he continued to speak "between the both of us, you aren’t naïve enough to believe that they’re.. legitimate, do you?"

Since Y/N was Daemon's firstborn and quite frankly the only one he truly loved when he was still married to Rhea, over the years he found that she was the only one he could trust with almost anything. He even found a few similar traits between the both of them and he hoped for her sake she would not grow to be as rash and impulsive as he could get at times.

"Well considering the fact that the King has announced he will cut the tongues of those who say otherwise, I chose to believe what Rhaenyra says" Y/N answered briskly to which her father rolled his eyes.

"Chose to believe" he repeated with an amused tone "a diplomatic answer. Yn gaomā daor mittys aōha kepa"

"But you don’t fool your father"

Y/N let out a huff in defeat. They had had this conversation before, even though Daemon never openly suggested that they were bastards. But now, he seemed to be quite forward and bold and Y/N knew there was no way of smart-mouthing her father.

"Daor, gaoman daor drējī pendagon issi drēje āzma zaldrīzoti" She answered in a hushed tone, afraid someome might walk in even though she was aware only her father, sisters and Rhaenyra knew the language "nyke gīmigon ñuha ōghar iksis mirrī similar naejot pōjon yn nyke jiōraton bona hen ñuha muña, pōja muñar sia se ānogar hen Valyria. Konīr iksis daor ñuhoso pōnta would jurnegon se ñuhoso gaomis lo īlis drēje āzma"

"No, I do not truly think they are true-born dragons. I know my hair is a bit similar to theirs but I got that from my mother, both of their parents were the blood of Valyria. There is no way they would look the way they do if they were legitimate"

Daemon smiled at this, quite proud that his oldest daughter was smart enough to see the obvious truth that his brother turned a blind eye toward. He knew that this only weakened Rhaenyra's claim but he'd managed to fix that by wedding her. The only thing that upset him now was that after Rhaenyra, it was Jace who was in line to inherit the throne and not a true blood of the dragon.

"Ziry should sagon ao qilōni iksis brōstan dārilaros tolī Rhaenyra iksis dāria" He told his daughter, rather seriously.

"It should be you who is named heir after Rhaenyra is queen"

"Me?" Y/N repeated, unsure of how she felt about where this conversation was heading. Sure, she wasn’t as close to Jace but he was her family now and she did not wish to steal something that was promised to him, even though it was never formally announced that he was Rhaenyra's heir.

"Iksā ñuha tala, se ānogar hen iā zaldrīzes" he continued "ziry should sagon iā Targārien va se dēmalion, iā drēje mēre. Daor matter skorkydoso kostōba hen iā ivestragon bona valītsos ēza toliot ao"

"You are my daughter, and the blood of a dragon. It should be a Targaryen on the throne, a true one. Does not matter how strong of a claim that boy has over you"

Y/N snicked at the wordplay he'd used. She knew he held some truth in what he said but what he was suggesting, it was rather bold. She'd never really imagined herself on the iron throne, not until this particular conversation. Still, she couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything that would hurt her now half-brother Jace.

"No point in discussing this" she promptly spoke "I have no intention of stealing something that isn’t mine"

"You’re not stealing, you’re claiming something that is rightfully yours. You are the oldest, the one who has upheld tradition and speaks the language of our ancestors, who I know will be an excellent queen" Daemon placed a hand on her shoulder "think about it and let me know of your final opinion on the matter. Only then shall I discuss with my wife the succession of her throne"

Y/N simply nodded in response.

"Oh and pack your things" he added "we have to leave for King's Landing, urgent business regarding Lucerys"

And with that, he left Y/N to ponder over the conversation that she'd just had.

Aemond was slightly confused to see everyone at court rushing about, cleaning or changing the drapes. It was as if it were announced that there was to be a wedding. A similar sort of chaos had broken loose a few days prior to Aegon's and Helaena's wedding.

He went to find his mother, to ask her why everyone was so pre-occupied with making the castle appear spotless.

"Is there something I've missed?" He asked as soon as he burst into the room "everyone seems half crazed"

"I was hoping to wait until supper to tell you" queen Alicent arose from her chair before she walked toward her son "There has been a certain, problem that has arisen. With the news of Lord Corlys' possible demise, the throne of Driftmark is left vulnerable"

"I thought my nephew Luke was heir, he is named lord of the Tides" Aemond stated the obvious "Is it one of those Velaryon girls who oppose his claim?"

"No, it’s Corlys's brother, Vaemond" Alicent told him "and i have to admit he seems to be a better fit for the throne"

"I take it there will be a hearing for the matter" The prince looked toward the fire that burned in the fireplace "In which I can only assume you will favour Vaemond?"

"Do you not support our decision then?" Alicent asked, quiet curious to hear her son's opinion on the matter though she knew he would back whatever decision she made.

"No, of course I do mother" he assured with a soft smile "We both know that Lucerys isn’t Laenor's son"

Alicent beamed proudly at her child, though she did not make it obvious that she was far too happy to dethrone Rhaenyra's son.

"I can only expect for Rhaenyra and Luke to be present here the same way Vaemond will be" he further inquired to which his mother replied with a 'yes'. This sort of ignited a hopeful spark in his chest "Will the rest of their family be joining us as well?"

Alicent knew he was asking her this with hopes that maybe the princess Y/N too would be returning to court. The queen was quite fond of the girl, but she wished her son did not have any sort of expectations regarding to wedding her; especially after that incident years ago, that cost him his eye. Her father Daemon was married to Rhaenyra now and that just further decreased Aemond's chances of asking for Y/N's hand in marriage.

"I do not know for certain but I would assume the entire family would be present" she told Aemond who only hummed in response, not showing any sort of emotion to the statement.

He had become rather cold and distant after he'd lost his eye, never letting anyone too close to him.

Aemond took his leave, heading back to his chambers. After all these years of only being able to speak to Y/N through words on paper, he would finally be able to talk with her in person. He wondered how she looked, if she was still a touch taller, or just as giggly and talkative. The last time he'd seen her was on the morning of her departure away from Driftmark, the very next day after he'd lost his eye.

Aemond had just been told, in the presence of his mother that he wouldn’t be able to live his life the same way he'd been living all these years. He would have to re-learn how to fight, how to ride and then there was mention of him not being able to fly Vhagar. After everything he'd gone through, he was being told that even after he'd acquired a dragon of his own, he wouldn’t be able to fly her. And then came the news of migraines that he would suffer from even after the wound was healed.

Aemond began to cry and then eventually began to scream out of frustration, demanding that everyone leave the room at once so that he might be alone.

Y/N, who was already on her way toward his chambers, heard the noise and went in and Alicent did not stop her; maybe she would calm him down?

"Aemond?" the princess softly called out, cautiously stepping closer.

"Leave me alone!" the boy snapped, still in a terrible mood but Y/N wasn’t going to listen that easily.

"I came here to see you-"

"I said go away!" he screamed at her and the girl did not appreciate it one bit, she was Daemon's daughter after all.

"I am going away!" she screamed back at him with such ferocity that it immediately silenced his temper tantrum "to dragonstone"

"What-" he quietened down as he processed her words. With the passing of Daemon's wife, he thought the man might return to King's Landing which would mean that even Y/N would return with him back home "You’re leaving, again?"

"I am" she reconfirmed it "I only came to say goodbye"

Aemond wanted to fling something at the wall out of frustration. He'd only just been reunited with her and now she were being taken away from him again.

"I don’t like your kepa" he grumpily muttered under his breath "always taking you away from me"

Y/N giggled at this, finding it adorable until her smile faded when she remembered that she was leaving him again. She noticed that during the entire conversation he did not look toward her and she knew it was because he did not want her to see the ghastly wound on his face. She took his hand in hers and leaned down to gently kiss his knuckles which made Aemond gasp with surprise.

"Kepa always used to kiss my injuries to heal them faster" she sweetly told him "I don’t think I can kiss your cheek without hurting you, so I hope a kiss to the knuckles will help"

Aemond smiled at her. He felt a pang of jealousy when she mentioned that her father used to try to help with the pain any time she hurt herself by kissing the injury. Meanwhile his own father did not care one bit about his loss of an eye. He did not even bother to come and see him the next morning.

He was glad Y/N did, it made him feel a little less unwanted.

A gentle smile spread across his face at the memory and he subconsciously looked down at the very same hand she'd kissed.

[olivia091108]

how to be a jackass Introduction

Word count:1.k

Tonight I’m going out with my sister and her boyfriend because apparently ‘I need to get a a life’ which I think is kinda rude but the only reason she’s saying that is because her and her boyfriend are thinking of moving out together but I don’t know anyone around town and she doesn’t think I’m responsible. She’s right

“Are you kidding me we need to leave in a half hour and your still in your pyjama’s chop chop”she claps her hands in my face.

She can get quite stressed when it comes to me I wasn’t the easiest to grow up with I was a bit of a hothead we both have a few stories from tell of our fights which she still has a scar form that she never shuts up about

“Alright calm down I have loads of time” I push myself off the sofa and just as I walk past her I barge her against the wall and quickly scurry to the bathroom and lock the door before she gets crazy.

I walk into my room with a towel wrapped round my body and one in my hair and flick the tv on just to have some noise in the background it was an alright show jackass that I would watch when I get back late and nothing else is on except teleshoping. I don’t have anything against it but they need to step it up cos I know give me 10 or 20 bucks I’ll do anything they do.

I find an old shirt from when I was like 15 or something and picked up some jeans that were laying on the floor before slipping on some shoes.

“See I’m ready in what 5 minutes you need to take some Xanax I swear”

“Your hair is literally dripping” I flip my head back and forth no doubt getting it on her. And walk down to her boyfriend Oliver who was gonna drive us.

Once we get their it’s already kicking off and walk towards the bar but some grown men are standing there ignoring me while I ask them to move so I manage to budge my way through them and get a rum and coke.

I start to sweat being surrounded by 15 people who clearly know nothing about personal space. I see my sister and Oliver talking to some dude and my sister starts pointing me out and calling me over.

Y/n come here so you know that show you love jackas-

Love? No I don’t love it I don’t even like it that much but what does that have to do with anything?

“Y/n”she says my name like my mum used to when I would break something she jerked her head to the man just standing there and at first I’m confused but then I realise who he is Oh shit

you don’t like the show sweetheart?the leader of the show asks

“I mean It’s alright but you could do better.” He laughs a bit at my words “oh yeah what then?”

“Nah I didn’t mean to be rud- no I’m serious what do you think”

“Do more nasty shit or more extreme stuff and more painful stunts all in saying is anything you lot do I could do if I knew I was getting paid or just for a laugh”

Ill buy you a drunk if you make out with that man at the bar he points to a fat man who is drenached with sweat and is missing a tooth at the bottom

“Easy.”

I walk over to him and straight up grab his face and kiss him slipping my tongue and feel him grab a handful of my ass and a few seconds later pull away and walk back over to Johnny using the bottom of my shirt to try and wipe my tongue

“Ok your’e turn Pants that biker playing pool” Johnny looks at him and he looks like he will smash his face in. He walks over there and waits till he has his back to him and as hard as he can yanks his jeans down with his boxers coming as well exposing his bare crack Johnny turns round and ores tends to be in a conversation with some random lady.

The man pulls Johnny to face him and holds him by the colour getting redder and redder. His friends start crowding him and they look like they’re gonna jump him so I walk over and tell him.

“Sir they ran into the bathroom he didn’t do it.”

He lets go of Johnny and storms towards the bathroom with his friends following hot on his heals. I burst out laughing making my eyes water.

“I was about to get my ass kicked”Johnny said joining in on your’e laugh.

The night progressed like this having a couple drinks doing some dares. I didn’t even know that Olivier and my sister left. Some of his fiends joined in.

Running along the bar naked then getting pushed off -Chris

I poured salt in my eye

Ehren getting pool balls thrown at him.

And obviously Steve o lit himself on fire spreading it onto my hair

And so on by the end we were all drunk as fuck and had been kicked out.

I wake up with a throbbing head ache and open my eyes but getting blinded by the lights once they adjust I’m in the bath but I don’t recognise it. I get out and try and find out where I am I hear voices so I walk towards it and then it clicks.

We got kicked out and went back to Steve os apartment carrying on the night everything else’s is a bit hazy right now.

I see all of them in the living room chatting and I also see Steve o wearing my shirt that is 4 sizes too small and some boxers.

Hey Steve o can I have my shirt back I groggily ask making them look towards me probably forgetting I was here.

Yeah dude. He takes it off and throws it at me and I take off the one in wearing and give it to him.I turn around and change

“Dude that bruise is gnarly” I look down at my hip bone and see it decorated with a purple bruise from when I tried to break the door down.

“Y/n you weren’t bullshitting last night we’re you? Johnny asks

“What about?”

“Well we were thinking you were right we gotta be more exciting and you seemed pretty into it would you wanna join.”

“No offence babe but Johnny she was drunk as shit she won’t do any of it sobre”

“Try me.”

Time skip

“Im y/n y/l/n and this is electric mouse trap.”

I stick out my tongue and let Chris clip it on to my tongue and immediately feel the electricity. I Jump around in pain trying to keep it in as long as I can to prove to them I can do it. I Shake my head and rip It off my tongue and It feels numb. I try to speak but all that’s coming out is jibberish and everyone including myslef laugh.

“Welcome to jackass y/n”

Guys I’m baaaack

This will be a slower burn series of bam x reader and jackass girl don’t know how often I will post but I’ve planned at least 3 chapters and I’m so excited message me any headcannons you wnat in this

Ik bam wasn’t in this but just you wait

My requests are still open

-liv

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒐𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆

pairing: vampire!acheron x gn!reader

genre(s): au (unspecified), light angst, eventual fluff, hints of hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

word count: 3.4k

warnings: written before acheron's release and v2.1, blood, mild descriptions of violence, slight nsfw (it's just during the bite scene and is nothing too intense)

notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my mind, so I hope you enjoy it! I decided to write this as a chronicle almost, of spontaneous meetings before a more conclusory end. I would be up for a part 2 eventually if you'd like to see it! I should also note that because only her trailers have been released, and this is an au, some elements of her character may be missing or not fully expanded upon, but I hope that doesn't interrupt your reading! :)

Read it on ao3!

~~~

Water trickled down from the murky sky, leaving shadow-wrapped puddles on the stone street. The step of a steady heel interrupted one’s stagnance as a figure emerged unshrouded from the alleyway. Another walked to her right, clothes beginning to soak from the rain. Blood trailed behind them, tainting the clear water with flowing scarlet.

“Why did you follow me?” they queried, pausing to lean against a nearby lamp post.

A violet gaze cast in their direction, yet the woman did not speak. She simply watched her momentary companion wince at the persistent ache of a flesh wound. Her fists tightened at the sight – the innate response to a long-held desire. A rising heartbeat flickered in her ears as she observed the form before her. A quirked brow, torn and stained cloth, a slight shiver from the chilled rain.

Striding forward, she was soon halted by their hand.

“Please, answer me.”

Instead, she took that cold limb in hers and brought it over her head, resting it on her left shoulder. She placed her other arm around their waist, and guided them from the lamp post with careful ease.

Calmly, they walked together.

The storm began to intensify as the wind picked up, flurrying droplets against the pair while lightning crackled across the sky.

“To fulfill my duties.” she spoke, strong and smooth.

“Pardon?”

“Why I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Those beasts have been permeating the city. I seek to remove them. One had been following you to your destination, and I became involved as early as I could. I apologize for your injury. Had I been sooner it could have been avoided.”

“As long as I remain alive, I will consider you a savior."

She hummed, a calm and thoughtful sound in time with the rolling thunder.

"What constitutes a savior to you?"

A thin burst of light painted the dark sky lavender, casting the surrounding buildings in a haze of purple rain.

“A person who protects others, whether doing so is simple or difficult, and will see their work through no matter the cost.”

“I see… Rest your eyes, we will be at an infirmary soon.”

She felt their head fall on her shoulder, hair tickling against her neck. Their breathing had not yet evened out, but their heart rate had begun steadying.

There was a doctor at the end of the block, seeing patients out of his office and an emergency tent that had been placed on the empty lot next door. This would be the seventh time in three days that she would bring a new victim of the ongoing crisis.

She knocked on his door before being greeted by a disheveled man. He quickly understood the situation and turned back into his practice to grab supplies while she lay them down on one of the beds. A hand grasped hers tightly as she began leaving, walking toward the door.

“Wait…”

Their quiet voice reached her ears and beckoned her back to the bedside.

“Thank you, drifting savior.”

“Acheron.”

A small smile grew on their face. “Thank you, Acheron.”

“There’s no need, but… you are welcome nonetheless.”

“Will you stay here?”

“I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere, but you will see me somewhere in the future.”

“Then I wish you luck and safety in your endeavors, until we meet again.”

—

The weekend market still bustled despite the city’s circumstances. Shoppers in a variety of outfits and colors paced up and down the streets, carding through wares, food, and clothes. A basket rested in the crook of your left elbow as you approached a fruit stand. Greeting the shopkeeper, you asked for a few peaches before perusing through the lemons.

You squeezed each one gently, hoping to find one filled with enough juice to add to a marmalade. When two were to your liking, you exchanged payment with the shopkeep and received your produce bag of white peaches, placing all of your main ingredients into your basket.

Bidding farewell, a flash of familiar violet caught your eye amongst the crowd.

You weaved through the people quickly, hoping to catch up to Acheron. A throb began developing in your side, but you did your best to ignore the increasing pain. Finally, you had the opportunity to meet her again, and in a much less dire setting this time. You watched as she strode with an aloof confidence, the crowd slowly moving out of her way.

When you reached the end of the sidewalk, you had the chance to reach out and tap her shoulder. She turned abruptly and faced you, however, before you could make contact.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“I could hear your footsteps approaching.”

You questioned how with the amount of activity there was. Deciding to ponder it later, you reached into your basket.

“Would you like a peach?”

She looked hesitant for a moment, before lightly shaking her head. “I have already eaten.”

“Alright.”

"How is your injury?"

Her question brought your attention back to the dull ache in your left abdomen.

“It is much better, though it will still become irritated from a lot of activity."

“Let us sit down, then. Hand me your basket.”

“Oh, thank you.”

The cool metal of a nearby bench slowly warmed under the heat of your palms. You sat in silence with Acheron, who was leaning against the back of the bench with one leg crossed over the other. It was not uncomfortable – far from it in fact. You felt safe around her, and resting became much easier.

—

You crossed paths next at a gently lighted bar.

She quietly slid onto the stool beside you, a sharp gaze watching your movements. After taking a sip of your cocktail, you met her eyes.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Of course.”

Rising first, she took your right hand in hers and brought you out to the sparkling dance floor. In a swift motion, you were spun into her arms. Deft fingers grasped your hips, turning you around to face her. She brought your arm up over her shoulder, stepping backwards for four beats before bringing her hand to rest delicately at your nape. Shifting your hand to replicate the same, you placed your other hand at her left elbow, and began shifting rapidly from side to side with each step toward her you took. You remove yourself from her, running your hand down her arm and casting her away in a spin. When she returns, she steps at your right foot, sending it back in a kick before it arrives up at her hip. Her hand cups the underside of your knee as yours sit at the back of her neck. She elegantly drags you backward before letting your foot fall to the floor. After, she sets her left hand on your shoulder, walking around you before stepping away, and spinning back into your hands. You dip her and catch her eyes for a moment, watching a flame stoke behind them.

When you bring her back up, a pair of your hands remain connected until you’re within arms distance of each other. You walk in a circle like this – watching her predatory gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation to be underneath, if anything it makes you want to match her pace more. You come back into her arms, in the same position you started in. Your back is to her front, breathing heavily as her fingers ghost over the site of your injury. Only now do you note it’s stinging tenderness, but it slowly begins to dissipate as she rubs over it. You glide together like this over the floor before she sharply turns you out in the hold of her hand. The scene becomes muddled, but a part of you feels an odd joy at the usually uneasy sensation. When you’re finished, she brings you back to her. Your fingers land awkwardly at her sternum and your dance is complete.

As you catch your breath, you begin to notice the lack of a second heartbeat thrumming beneath your fingers.

Yet, that couldn’t be, right? You were mellowing from the performance, yes, but you still would be able to tell if there was a beat outside of your fingertips. When you caught Acheron’s eyes, you could see what seemed like a cloud of thoughtful storm behind them. Without another word, she left.

You remained on the floor, wondering just what lies underneath her violet gaze.

—

A soft wind blew against your cheeks as you rested underneath a large willow tree. The sky glowed in beautiful warm shades, followed by a vibrant indigo. Flipping a page of your book, you attempted to block out the sounds of the park. Children ran and played together as some walked their dogs. A few people stopped at a stand for snacks while talking or heading home.

A shadow and a wisp of white clothing appeared before you, the color of coming evening blending into her hair.

You closed your book and gave her a small smile. “How have you been?”

She looked in your eyes pensively, before reaching out her hand. “Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

“I don’t see why not.” you replied, taking her hand and standing up.

Together you strolled down the paver path, watching as the street lights turned on. The tip of your shoe caught on one of the uneven layers, causing you to stumble forward. Luckily, Acheron caught you carefully, bringing you to a standing position and helping you regain balance again. You lightly laughed off your blunder, doing your best to calm down again after the momentary scare.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, you felt a tired relaxation start to well within you. When you looked to your left, you realized the opposite could be said for your companion. She seemed alert, and ready for combat if the need arose. Her head nudged to the right, signaling for you to turn there, no doubt so you could go deeper toward the forest and avoid others.

“I apologize for what I must do. Please find somewhere safe until I am finished.”

“It is alright.” you responded, deviating to find a temporary shelter from whatever beast was trailing you.

A grotesque, dripping, jet black creature with multiple ice blue eyes came from seemingly nowhere, with a small group of winged beasts accompanying it. You rushed underneath a bench across the small courtyard space, doing your best to breathe silently but your book fell loudly to the ground. Your eyes met the cold ones of the monster, but a flash of purple soon bloomed as horrible screeches filled the air. A shadow expanded over the scene not long after, removing Acheron and the wretched animals from your field of view.

Although they seemed to be gone, you didn’t dare move.

She emerged not long after, a lovely shade of red disappearing from her arms – yet her hair remained white. Another row of creatures came from the forest, and she fought each one effortlessly with a strength and capability that most would not have. Although, the closer you looked and the more little hordes that came, you could feel a sense of exhaustion coming from her. There were a few hits that she couldn’t dodge in time, and one that looked especially deep from where you hid.

As she dealt a final blow, her breath became heavy. She did her best to walk to you with a stoic air. You quickly left your cover, jogging to meet her where she was and watching as she stumbled forward. Surprised, you caught her in your arms, trying to keep her upright.

—

“Thank you for the concern, Bertha, but there is truly nothing to worry about. Care for a jar of marmalade before you go?”

“Oh, that would be excellent! Thank you very much.”

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing one jar of the peach spread you made two days prior. Returning to the entryway, you handed it to your neighbor with a smile. After exchanging goodbyes, you shut the door and made your way back to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of clean water.

The door to where Acheron was resting sat half-closed, a sign that she had probably begun leaving before resigning to sit back on the bed. With a gentle kick, it opened all the way and revealed your contemplative… friend, now. After many bedridden chats over the last week, you felt closer than before, even if a chilled distance may still remain.

“How are you this morning?” you questioned, placing the bowl on the bedside table and grabbing a fresh cloth from its drawer.

“Better. There is still a persistent fatigue, however.”

You hummed, “I have noticed you sleeping more. I assume it is not helping, then?”

“You would be correct. I am not sure how much longer I want to stay in this bed.”

“Is it not comfortable?” you teased, walking to her side to remove the bandage on her arm.

“No.” she replied with a hint of a smirk.

“Well then, you’ll just have to start moving to other areas of the house.”

“You want me to follow you around all day?” she quipped.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t be entirely averse to having you with me more often. Our chance visits are beginning to be too little for me, I’m afraid.”

“I guess I will have to fix that. Where would you like me to be?”

You felt a light heat grow in your cheeks, and did your best to keep a straight face as you softly rubbed the wet cloth over her cuts.

“Right beside me.” you whispered.

She hummed, looking almost regretful.

After you finished, you offered her a hand. She took it, and calmly you helped her get to a chair in the small dining area off of the kitchen. Her speed and strength had definitely improved since the first day she woke up. Faint and injured, she had tried to rise and leave, but you stopped her. She needed to rest and be given care for a while. Within the minute, she had already fallen back asleep, and you began tending to her stressed wounds once more.

Her hair has yet to fade from a gleaming white.

Putting a slice of bread in the toaster, you didn’t bother asking Acheron if she would like a piece. In all of the time that you have known her, she has never eaten or drank anything.

“Do you want to ask me something?” she queried, head tilting slightly in your direction.

She always had such attentive hearing – too honed almost. Impressive strength and stamina, something that was almost inhuman. She had no heartbeat that you could sense, either. From all of the tales that you have heard in your life, you could only find one conclusion.

“Actually, I do.” Taking a seat across from her, you folded your hands over the table. “Are you a vampire, Acheron?”

A beat of silence crossed the room before she replied, “How adept of you.”

The toaster popped, and you paused a moment before rising to check it. Placing it on a plate, you opened the butter dish and retrieved a knife before spreading it over your toast.

“You need blood, then, correct? In order to soothe your fatigue.”

“Yes.” she returned simply.

Brushing your fingers on a nearby towel, you slowly strode to her side of the table.

“Use me.”

It was a bold request, and one that she could very possibly turn down. Still, you were going to see her care through to the end. Even besides that, you were starting to consider her a friend.

She seemed stunned, although her face could never communicate the extent of which. As if betraying her features, her hands started traveling around your waist, bringing you slowly onto her lap.

“Are you certain?”

“Of course.”

With no hesitation or restraint, she licked up the right side of your neck, bringing her left hand up to tug at your hair and angle your head over. Your fingers curled into the front of her shirt, one that she had borrowed from you. The tip of her tongue crossed the cusp of your ear, making your grip tighten. Her thumb started rubbing your scalp as she bit down. It burned initially, but within an instant became truly pleasurable. Her lips tightened around her bite as she sucked and licked the area, drawing blood out and leaving you in a daze. One hand remained tightened around her shirt while the other drifted to her hair, holding her closer. Your breath echoed in her ear, one that was likely catching the soft whimpers that left you, only spurring her on more.

Your body moved against her, seeking any more of her you could get. A small nick from one of her teeth made you whine as you repeated the same motion. She did it again. Her other hand fell from your waist to your hip, sliding underneath your shirt and rubbing your lower back. You relaxed into her, sliding your hand further down her body, shifting closer to her as that hand moved to her stomach, stroking underneath the borrowed fabric.

You felt her begin to pull away below your left hand, and so you brought it out of her hair and down her cheek. The white started leaving her hair, but your gaze remained only on her eyes – and the remnants of blood on her lips. In a swift motion, you licked her bottom lip, tasting what she so craved. Before you could shift backward, she tightened her grip in your hair and kissed you with the same passion you danced with weeks ago. She leaned back and you cupped her cheek, bringing your other hand up to her bare waist. Tracing over the cool skin, you remained on her for a small minute before finally, she parted from you.

—

A knock hit your door right before you were set to leave for the day.

When you opened it, none other than Acheron greeted you.

“I remember you dropped this during my battle, so I came to return it.” she stated, handing over your leather-wrapped book.

“Thank you.” you replied, turning away to leave it on the table by the door. When you looked back, she had something else prepared.

“I also wanted to bring you this gift.”

You accepted a white box with purple and red ribbon. A letter rested underneath the bow, and you saved it for last. After undoing the neat package, you opened it to find a well-forged dagger.

“I wanted to give you something to start with, so that if the time comes and I am not there, you will have a weapon.”

It was a beautiful present. A winding snake wrapped around the hilt, its head resting on the tip. It had a sharp shine to it, and weighed light under your hands. It was held in white leather, and displayed a dark metal when you removed it. You would be sure to cherish it.

Exchanging the blade for the letter on the table, you slid a letter opener under the seal and lifted out the paper. While it was not very long, it seemed incredibly heartfelt.

I must start this letter by telling you how much I appreciate all that you have done for me. I am not accustomed to such care, much less the tenderness that you showed me. It is an… odd feeling. But one that I am not very against. Though I cannot say that I can stop my drifting across the country, I can say that I will always return here, to you. I want to stay for the next few months, and teach you some of what I know. I hope you will consider my offer, and me.

Sincerely yours,

Acheron

Wordlessly, you set the letter down and crossed the threshold, placing a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in a hug. She hesitated at first, but soon crossed her own over your back.

In a whisper, she posed a question. “Will you accept?”

“Of course!” you returned quietly.

“Great. We will begin tomorrow.”

A complementing smile grew on her face, one that showcased a great amount of joy that you had never seen from her before. It was lovely, and you were sure that the next few months with her would feel the same.

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 4

Our story continues on with Denholm and Markus searching for a new client that is willing to rent Denholm’s body out for a spin. The hospital bills are rising up again, and the two needs their classic gig to pay out the loans.

While they were there, a woman named Natasha approached them and heard of their services. “Heyy, you’re that Denholm guy that can be rented from the black market right?” She giggled. “Uhhh.. yeah, but I don’t remember someone booking an appointment with me today..” He replied.

“Oh come on, I just decided I’d come and see you in-person! So, when can I use you?” She slowly walked up to them. “Girl wait… so you’re the one using his body?”, Markus said, who is starting to get suspicious about her. “You think only men can try out men bodysuits?? Stop with the gender roles!” She got lowkey pissed.

“Anyways, can I try it on first before I settle with the deal?” She couldn’t resist her temptation to try on the suit. “Ok, I’ll show you right now..” Denholm taps the button and he goes into suit-mode. Natasha entered his body and it and opened her eyes in his new masculine physique.

“Woahh.. something’s hard down there! Omg this is sooo fucking cool!” She was giggling as she felt Denholm’s cock.

“It must be fun being a man you know, I’m doing this for a social experiment for my case study.” She added, while looking enthusiastic. She then started rubbing in his body and looked at her new reflection in the phone camera. “Ok time’s up girl the free trial’s over. get out of him.” Markus said as he unzipped Denholm and pulled her out. “Ok I think I like it! I would pay more if you want!” She said.

“Uhh.. well I better get ready then. Just so you know you have to make the payment first before you’ll be able to use the suit.” Denholm said nervously.

“Ok ok. No rush, take your time and I’ll meet you tonight.” She said and then left the two. The two then continued on going to class.

“Are you sure you want that girl to use your body? She sounds like she’s on meth!” Markus told Denholm while walking down the hallway.

“Well if she’s paying anyway then we can’t refuse on a customer.” Denholm sighed. Things are about to get strange from this point onward.

While they were walking they saw a peculiar man cleaning the windows. With him he had a large cart full of boxes. “That’s weird, I never noticed that staff here before.” Markus told Denholm. As they passed by the man, they accidentally knocked off one of the boxes, and the man panicked an stormed off with the cart. “Bro what’s wrong with that guy?” Denholm said while Markus looks down to see the weird box. Inside the box there’s a garbage bag sealed with duct tape. The box was a quite heavy, so they brought it to a nearby classroom.

To their surprise, there was something rubbery-like in the bag, and when they opened it, it’s a folded up bodysuit.

“Woah what the fuck?!” The two got shocked by the looks of the bodysuit. They carefully undressed the man from the formal suit he was wearing. It was a little bit drenched in sweat, and the it smelled like it just came fresh from the gym. “Holyyyy shittt?!!” Markus screamed as they started unfolding the suit on top of the table.

It was a bodysuit of a man, probably in his early 20s, and is ethnically East Asian. “Well he looks like your local gym rat, and a total fuckboy.” Markus jokingly said (he was right tho). “So, looks like there’s a lot more bodysuits out there, not just me.” Denholm said while touching the man’s deflated rubbery arm. They tried flipping the man over to see if he has a switch that is similar to Denholm’s. “Let’s bring this man back to life shall we?” Markus said. They flipped the switch, but there was no response. The suit remained a little deflated, and hollow. The two started getting scared. “Don’t tell me.. don’t tell me this guy is dead..” Denholm was shaking.

“Found one of them I see?” Mr Singh came in to join the fun. The two gasped. “What are you doing here?!”

“Well I knew one day you two would see the others.”

Denholm: “What do you mean… the others..??”

Singh: “You see, your case as a bodysuit isn’t as rare as you might think. Lots of people around this city, fall bait into the numerous kidnappings that occurred. They get taken away in a van, never to be seen again.”

“What happens to them next? They’ll be put in a large factory where humans are transformed into bodysuits. Their organs, their insides are replaced and retrofitted to become a fully wearable suit, or whatever the fuck magic they do in that place.”

“You should be very grateful you’re even alive. Some people like you do survive the suit process and manage to escape, not knowing how to be able to cope with their lives being changed forever. And then there’s the unfortunate people. The ones who are put into the deep sleep, and forced to be worn as lifeless mascot suits for the rest of their lives. The people who wear them have full access to their past lives and memories, and may choose to continue on that original life, or reinvent their past lives, or a mixture of both.”

“That man right there… had a girlfriend, aiming for his degree in Engineering, getting ripped at the gym. all of that was taken away from him on one night. Now it’s up to his users if they want to live upon his legacy.”

“That’s all I know for now. I don’t know if there’s ever a cure to this condition of being converted into a suit, but it really sucks for these people.”

Denholm got furious. “I must stop this madness then. I’m gonna put an end to it.”

Markus stopped him, “Are you stupid?! You almost got killed yourself! Our goal is to stay out of from their sight as much as possible!”

“Markus is right. Don’t worry, it will all be better soon.” Mr Singh said. “Well I gotta go teach my class now. You two, stay safe and don’t get yourselves into trouble.”

Markus carried the suit to the backroom. “Hey, one more thing Denny.” Singh grinned.

“With those hot charisma you have, you sure ARE a great kisser.” Singh winked and left. (see part 2 if u dont get what he meant)

“Wha… what did he meant?” Denholm was in shock.

“Nothing! just some side jobs while he was renting you out!” Markus was sweating and turned around from Denholm to avoid eye contact.

“Listen. I trusted you into making sure I don’t get harmed in any way but if you get your weird shit into the conversation I will won’t hesitate to-“ a thud was suddenly heard.

“-to give you all the love you want and need.. babe.”

“What..?” Markus was frozen. Whatever the fuck he heard wasn’t Denholm.

“MR SINGH?!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE HIM?!!” Markus screamed.

“I’m trying to save you from getting beaten up! Now go clean this mess up!” Singh laughed.

“Well on one thought.. I think I do want a kiss..” Markus leaned forward from good old Denny and they had a mouth to mouth embracement, with their tongues locking intertwined, forming a heart shape from the divine.

“Pull down your pants. This will only take 8 minutes trust me.” Singh giggled as he took off Denny’s hoodie.

And then the rest is history…

- TO BE CONTINUED -

[exuberantocean]

I want to talk about responsibility in Our Flag Means Death. And I want to talk about it specifically after watching Stede blame himself for Ed's actions and I want to talk about it after watching a number of people in fandom blaming Izzy for Ed's actions.

Because they were Ed's actions. Ed absolutely did those things. No one forced him to attempt to kill Lucius. No one forced him to strand half the crew or torture Izzy or drive the boat into that storm. These are things Ed did of his own free will.

I hope, I really hope that people understand that ultimately the one responsible for Ed's actions is, well, Ed. Because he was the one to do them. Was his mental health good at the time? Ha, God no. But while that certainly makes it easier to understand his actions, it doesn't excuse them and it doesn't make them right. They are still his actions, his responsibility.

Did Stede's failure to show up at the end of season 1 cause Ed's mental state? Look, it was crushing (for both of them in different ways really). But look, Ed could have assumed something happened to Stede (which really, something did happen to Stede) rather than leap to the conclusion that Stede rejected him. And even given that, most people who break up with or are rejected by a loved one don't do *vague handwave at the first 3 episodes of season 2* ...all that.

There's nothing wrong with Ed feeling rejected and sad. There's a hell of a lot wrong with his actions.

Did Izzy's words and actions cause Ed's mental state? Well, obviously they didn't help. If I recall correctly, Izzy's made some sort of comment to Stede about ruining Blackbeard which surely contibuted to Stede's mental state and his actions at the end of s1 but, you know, Stede's a grown man and his actions are his own. Similarly, Izzy's taunts to Ed at the end of s1 come from a place where Izzy had a specific idea of how Ed was that was, well, perhaps not as wrong as some fans would like to think, but certainly incomplete, lacking, perhaps even misunderstood.

Perhaps misunderstood works best. Izzy knows the confidence that Blackbeard has always seemed to hold, the command, the compacity for violence, but he lacks the understanding of who Ed is. It's understandable that Izzy would want that back (I mean, I hate to break it to you, but they're pirates, the violence thing is part of all that). But, you know, I don't think Izzy's ever been a character motivated by just a desire to fuck things up. He's no Iago. Izzy clearly loves Blackbeard and that's perhaps his greatest flaw. He loves Blackbeard so much, but doesn't understand Ed at all.* ** Regardless of Izzy's motivations, he does play a significant role in escalating the situation. He words contribute to both Stede and Ed's turmoil. I'm not saying he has zero accountability here.

But.

Ed always had a choice one what to do, how to react. His actions remain his own. He could have ignored him, or tried to get over Stede or had Izzy tossed off the ship or any number of things. Instead, Ed chose to do what he did.

More importantly, by denying or ignoring Ed's own capability for his own actions, I feel like it overlooks what I see as the most powerful potential storyline in the show (obviously, I have no clue if they'll actually go this way, but I hope they do).

Ed, the man who feels unlovable has done horrible things. And, just maybe, he can still be loved. (Oh let's face it, we know he will be - he is already by Stede.) I don't even mean just by Stede (I mean, let's face it, Stede's likely to continue blaming himself for this), but by the crew he so badly treated. It will be interesting to see how things move forward. Regardless, I can't wait to see what happens next.

Who hasn't done horrible things? I mean, hopefully not at Ed levels of horrible. But God, what a lesson to be learned, to be loved even after your worst. One of the reason I think we humans are so compelled to create and follow stories is that we learn so well through them. How many of us out there feel unlovable, unloved, as deeply as Ed? How many of us are drowning in our misery, pulled down by weight of our own trauma, or our wrongdoings or perceived wrongdoings?

And how many of us are just as wrong as Ed was? Not because we aren't capable of bad-because new alert-we all are, but because we aren't defined by that and because we aren't destined to be defined by our darkest moments. And because humanity is even more defined by it's compacity to love and forgive than it is for our compacity to hurt and destroy.

Because I want to watch both that boat and it's co-captain rebuilt together.

*This is, perhaps, why Ed could never love Izzy. Because all Izzy saw was Blackbeard and Ed needed someone to love Ed - someone he could be Ed with and that be okay. Perhaps things will shift between Ed and Izzy after this...I mean, things must shift between the two after this, but perhaps Izzy will finally start seeing Ed? Who knows.

I also think Izzy's work at protecting the crew and his attempt to fix the situation (woefully too late) is worth something).

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter 7: Tempest

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Descriptions of r*pe and SA of a minor(reader) (past, it's brief and non-gratituous), a whole lot of gaslighting, angst, Parental abuse, Coersion, drinking, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is *again* heavy on the issues around this), Manipulation/gaslighting, traumatic childhood, parental neglect, angst, grief, regret, depression, Strained parent-adult child relationship. Let us know if we missed anything! Word Count: 8.1k (It's a long one!) [Read on AO3] Thank you once again Hemmy (@angelofsmalldeath-codeine) for the hard work in getting this written with me! No tag list for this one, it's a sensitive one.

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Dread forms in the pit of your stomach as you descend the stairs, your fingertips tremble on the banister railing. You linger by the basement door, a pang of yearning constricting your chest as you long for something you shouldn’t.

Then you hear it.

“What is taking her so long? She hasn’t run off again, has she?”

You can hear the contempt dripping from Nancy’s tone, but you haven’t let that bother you for years. No, what bothers you is the way your father laughs along, like it’s all some hilarious joke he’s in on.

“Always was one to run out when things didn’t go her way,” it’s like a slap to the face, hearing him belittle you, make light of all those times you ran out. As if he was there, as if he’d seen first-hand why you’d fled from the one place you were supposed to feel safe.

You step into the kitchen without a word, Nancy and your father are sat on the near side of the breakfast counter, their backs to you as they continue to titter like school children. Dave’s head snaps up, face almost unreadable. But you know that look in his eyes, the slow simmer beneath those deep, amber-flecked irises.

Dave is livid.

You shrug and smile at him, but you know that’s not enough assurance for him, not really. He knows you’re hurting, and you know it kills him that he can’t help. Not for the first time, you’re realising that the only time you’ve felt safe, respected, and truly at home since returning to Texas, was with Dave.

It kills you to know you can’t just fall into his arms and seek the comfort you have been missing these last four weeks. You almost wish you had stayed, that you could have pushed down your feelings and let things play out as they had.

He can’t even bring himself to smile at you or do anything but glare into the mid-distance once he’s done a precursory check to make sure you’re ok. You watch as his hands remain pressed flat on the countertop, his beer untouched as the condensation beads on the neck. Your glass of rosé has been replaced with a beer and you try not to smirk as you take your seat.

“Oh sweetheart,” your mother’s tone is saccharine, and you have to stop yourself from gagging, “We were just worrying about you, everything ok?”

“I heard,” you say, voice level as you take a purposeful sip from your bottle, “Thanks for the drink.”

You know it’s a little too risky, but you smile sweetly at Dave as you speak. You can see a vein in his neck bulge as he forces a smile.

“Anders – your dad – made a comment that he thought you hated rosé,” Dave shrugs and raises his beer in toast to the other man, “We had some of that import lager you like so I grabbed one for you.”

Your dad grins sheepishly between the three of you as Nancy fiddles with the stem of her wine glass. You can see the storm brewing behind her eyes. Unlike Dave, she doesn’t have a very good poker face. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you look between your mother, father, and Dave. Nancy keeps looking at you, like she’s trying to find the courage to say something.

“So, kiddo, what’s new with you? You manage to find a job yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a remote job for tech support at the start-up Ash works at.”

You lie, but it’s what Ash suggested you use as cover now she knows about your real job. She has enough sway she could probably even get you a fake employee ID if needed, but you’re not that worried.

“Oh, honey, thank goodness, maybe you can start paying rent now!”

Nancy laughs at her own comment in a way that makes you roll your eyes. She really still thinks she’s just so funny. It makes your stomach turn.

“Actually,” you start, “I’m going to be staying with Ash until I get my own place.”

You almost made your announcement, let it slip that you’re already moving out. But something about the way Nancy keeps stealing looks at you makes you hesitate.

“Oh, honey,” she starts, “I was kidding, don’t be so dramatic, you should come home.”

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I need to keep my stuff here until I get my own place, if that’s ok?”

You make a point not to address Dave directly, you want your mother to feel like she has the power here. You also know it would arouse suspicion about you and Dave if you did.

“Always so dramatic, what was it that even made you leave in the first place? Was it him?”

Nancy points at Dave, ignoring your request and you feel heat prickle under your skin. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you try to recover from the whiplash that the turn in conversation has taken.

“Jesus, Mom,” you hiss, “This again? Why can’t you let it go? Dave did nothing to make me feel uncomfortable. He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Then why did you leave here crying your eyes out, running off in a stranger’s car?”

You go to answer, immediately giving in to the rise Nancy has so nicely set up. But you pause, something about her wording catches your interest.

“How do you know how I left?”

You look at Dave, accusation in your gaze. You want to believe he wouldn’t have said anything about the state of your departure. You’d made a point to plan corroboration only hours ago. Before anyone else can say a thing, an egg timer goes off and you near jump out of your skin. Dave’s body twitches as he stops himself from grabbing your hand.

“That’s the roast. Dave, be a dear and serve up.”

“I’ll help,” Anders jumps up, giving Dave a sympathetic look as he goes.

You shake your head in disbelief at both of your parents’ actions. Your father for being so whipped even now, and Nancy for ordering Dave around like a servant in his own home. Dave doesn’t move, and you can feel the tension between he and your mother. Something is being left unsaid, the silence is deafening and to your surprise, Nancy breaks first.

“Never mind, I’ll do it, like I do everything else in this house.”

She huffs as she wobbles off her stool to help a confused looking Anders serve up the roast. You take another sip of your beer, letting the malty liquid coat your tongue.

“You ok?”

Dave’s voice is low as he gives you a sideways look, his brow is knitted with concern as he speaks.

“No,” you whisper, fiddling with the bottle between your fingertips as you try not to lose your shit.

“If you want to leave, I’ll cover for you, I’ll bear the brunt of whatever this mood of hers is.”

You hesitate, the idea sounding more than appealing right now but you know you need to see this through. This isn’t the end of this hellish set-up, and it won’t end here if you just leave now. You need to see this through.

“I do, but I can’t, this isn’t something I can run from. Not this time.”

Dave says nothing more as your father comes over with the first few plates of sides. By the time everything is served you’re pretty hungry. You pile your plate up, focusing on the food so that you can ignore the three sets of eyes that are trained on you.

You try and eat, chewing your food thoroughly before swallowing. But there’s so much unease rattling through your body that you can’t find the joy in it. Your father is eating away happily, seemingly oblivious to the tension bouncing between your mom and you. Dave eats slowly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was enjoying his meal. His beer remains untouched, as he continues to observe silently.

Your question hangs unanswered in the air, and it turns your stomach to know something is being left unsaid.

“So, how did you know?”

You ask again, finding your voice as you abandon the food on your plate. You can’t keep doing this. You want to get whatever this ambush was about over and done with so you can just go back to Ash’s. But most of all, you just want to go home, but you don’t know where that is right now. Images of Dave wrapping himself around you in your bed upstairs come to mind, but you push them away. You have more pressing matters to deal with.

“It doesn’t matter, drop it,” Nancy snaps as she drains her glass of wine before angrily spearing a stem of broccoli on her fork.

“It does matter,” you say as you throw your cutlery down with a clatter, “I deserve an explanation. Mom, tell me how you knew.”

“Stop being so childish, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Nancy deflects again as she looks anywhere but you. You go to say something, but Dave’s voice startles you.

“Nancy, are you going to tell her, or do I have to? Or are you going to keep ignoring her questions, like she’s a child?”

“Tell me what?” You challenge the pair of them, looking between them as your father sits in stunned silence, abandoning his food as well. You almost smile at his discomfort. Whatever he thought he was brought in to help your mother with, this wasn’t it.

“We aren’t talking about that right now,” Nancy spits as she fills another glass of wine, “We’re supposed to be here talking about you,” she points her finger at you, gesturing with her wine glass as it’s gripped in her clutches, “You and your problem.”

“My problem?”

“Yes, the fact that you’re whoring yourself out online, like a fucking… prostitute!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond with venom lacing your tone, your eyes narrowed as you try and keep your cool. There’s no way she could know.  

“This!” She cries as she walks over to a paper bag on the far counter. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you already have some idea of what will be in there. You wait for her to pull out your paraphernalia and wave it in your face. To your surprise she up-ends the bag onto the island. The masks and the vibrator don’t shock you, but the multiple sets of lingerie and garter belts do.

“You went through my underwear drawer?”

You feel physically sick as you watch your belongings sit on top of plates of sides. The scene is mortifying as you scramble away from the table. Your skin crawls as you feel the tendrils of violation slithering under your skin.

“How dare you?”

“So, you’re denying it?” Nancy scoffs as she sits with her arms crossed, a picture of misplaced triumph.

“Of course, I am. Where did you even get that idea from? Some sex toys and some lingerie?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Nancy spits as she straightens in her chair, her eyes wild as she seethes at your challenge, “The slutty bedding, the blackout curtains, the fucking camera pointed at your bed. There’s no other explanation for it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m just kinky? That I might I like it when my sexual partners do more than rut into me for five minutes and roll over? I would have thought you’d be far more open minded considering that you enjoyed enough freedom to explore your own sexuality over the years. Why does your mind go straight to sex work? As for my bedding, I thought you wanted me to feel comfortable here. Just because I can’t stand the bland suburban vibe you chose for this house, doesn’t make it slutty.” You scoff, your back up as you feel the need to defend yourself, “For someone who’s made a living off prenup settlements, alimony and husbands’ credit cards, you are incredibly judgmental of sex work. That’s the correct term for it these days, by the way.”

You pause to take a breath as you shake your head, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of your nose as you refocus your train of thought. Nancy goes to speak, and you hold up your other hand to silence her.

“I wasn’t finished,” you snap before continuing, “What gave you the right to enter my room, search my things, and steal from me? Even if I was a sex worker – which I’m not – that wouldn’t give you any right to do any of that. And how dare you try and slut shame me? What do you stand to gain by humiliating me like this? Dumping my underwear and toys in front of Dad, and your husband no less? What is your angle here?”

You can see Dave’s façade beginning to crack, his hands are fists balled on the table as his resolve begins to slip. Your father is sullen, eyes downturned as he avoids your gaze. His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t seem to be listening anymore.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Nancy starts up again but is cut off before she can continue.

“Enough.”  

Dave snaps as he stands, his chair scraping loudly on the tiled floor, his shoulders tense as he glowers down at Nancy.

“Don’t you dare tell me enough,” Nancy yells at Dave.

“First the PI, now this? It’s abhorrent, Nancy. How can you disrespect your adult daughter’s privacy so flagrantly?”

“A PI? Are you serious right now?” You scoff, “When you’re the one spending so many weekends alone with Danielle?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nancy snaps but you just laugh.

“Cut the crap, Nancy,” you say her name without thinking and it’s like a switch is flipped. Your mother’s eyes go wide, and she drops her glass, as if you’d physically hit her. It clatters on the countertop, spilling the sickly pink alcohol across the surface.

“Just as I suspected, you’ve seduced him, haven’t you? Turned him against me by sucking his dick just like you did with Kyle.”

White noise fills your ears as you walk backwards, needing to put physical distance between you and your mother. You feel your knees weaken; you clutch the countertop behind you in desperation to stop yourself from falling. Your mouth goes slack as you try and ground yourself, but you’re left adrift as the accusation rocks you.

“I was fourteen.”

The statement falls from your lips like a lead weight, striking the tiled floors with a clatter as it bounces around the open space. Your words echo around the room as you feel the world swaying around you.

“Nancy, what are you talking about?”

To your surprise it’s your father who speaks up and you see the look of horror on his face.

“This doesn’t concern you, Anders,” she spits but he’s still shaking his head in disbelief. Dave turns to look at you, his jaw tight as he tries to keep his cool. But you see it, the desperate sorrow mingled with fury at your admission.

“Kyle left you because I threatened him with the police. I didn’t let him do anything to me, that would imply I had a choice.”

Your voice isn’t your own as you hiss at your mother, never have you spoken back to her so freely. But you can’t do this, not anymore. You can’t be here.

You start to move without thinking, your body shaking as you head to the door. You vaguely register people calling after you, but you can’t stop. You’re opening the door by the time someone catches up to you, a firm arm on your elbow. You turn, and something deep within you hopes it’s Dave but you’re met with the pinched features of your father.

“Please don’t leave,” he pleads but you shake your head violently, lurching away from his grasp as you stumble onto the porch. The cold wind hits you as you realise you’ve left you purse and your coat inside.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You look at the man before you up and down with derision, it seems obvious now how alone you’ve always been. Not once have you been able to rely on him, nor Nancy, when things got tough. It’s like you’ve finally taken off a blindfold, exposing you to the sad reality that you’ve survived on you own for most of your life without either of their help.

“I’m your father, please, let me help you.”

“Are you? It hasn’t felt much like it in recent years.”

He stammers and there’s something in his expression that makes you take pause. You can’t fucking believe it, but maybe you can. This whole evening has been full of fucked up truth speaking and skeletons tumbling from your familial closet. What’s one more bombshell to add to the list?

“Are you?”

You ask again as you glare at him, Nancy appears at his back, and you see the twist of shame in your mother’s face.

“Perfect,” you laugh, hysterical and unhinged as you fail to keep your cool, “You don’t even know do you?”

“Please, sweetheart, come back inside,” he pleads but you shake your head, despite the cold, it’s only an hour’s walk back to Ash’s place.

“No.”

You turn on your heel and stomp down the steps, speed-walking down the driveway until you hit the sidewalk. You go to check your phone, but you realise you’d left it in your coat. You curse but keep on going. There’s no way you’re going back.

~*~

Dave can’t remember the last time he felt so furious. He thinks he might crack a tooth if he continues clenching his jaw so hard. He sits at his desk as he downloads a copy of the CCTV footage onto a second USB drive, ready to give to you.

The first USB drive sits on the desk, ready to be put in a hidden compartment in his car door. He can hear Nancy and Anders bickering upstairs. He taps his foot irritably as he watches the progress bar, he needs to check in with you, but this comes first.

Evidence gathering always comes first.

The progress bar turns green as the job completes. He ejects the drive and secures it in a plain envelope, your name scrawled across the front. He needs to go back upstairs and face Nancy and Anders, but he can’t, he’s too pent up. Too angry.

In this state, he might do something he’ll regret.

He locks the door to his room and slides across the deadbolt before he practically rips off his dress shirt. He strips off before tossing everything into the hamper at the corner of the room.

He turns on the faucet and steps into the cold stream, not waiting for the water to get to temperature. He jolts as the frigid sheets of water cascade over him, a pained hiss escaping his clenched teeth.  

He’s shivering by the time the water finally warms up, his anger quelled, he realises he’d forgotten to do something. He scrubs himself clean before striding out to grab his phone. The other line answers on the third ring. Dave doesn’t even bother waiting for a response before he starts talking.

“Is that you sat in the blue sedan three houses down?”

“You know me too well, boss,” Resnik chuckles down the line and Dave shakes his head. He’s not in the mood for Resnik’s bullshit. He balances the phone between his shoulder and jaw as he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his drawers.

“You see her leave?”

“Affirmative.”

“Think you can tail her for me? On foot?”

“Christ, really?”

“Yes or no, Resnik.”

“Fine. I’m on it, do I need my camera?” Resnik curses as Dave hears him jostling the phone, “Shit she’s on the other line already, she’s relentless.”

“Ignore her, make up an excuse, I don’t care. You’re not tailing either of us professionally, Nancy be damned. I need tonight off the books.”

“Got it, you breaking protocol to tap that a-?”

Dave ends the call, anger already simmering too hot under his skin as he forces his feet into some sneakers. For all of his uses, Resnik is his least favourite member of the team, and moments like this remind him why. But right now, your safety is more important than chewing out his subordinate.

He pockets his phone and the envelope with your USB in it before unlocking the door and heading upstairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he jogs up the steps, already bracing himself for the inevitable tirade that awaits him. He peeks out into the hallway to see Nancy and Anders have moved to the living room. Still bickering furiously. He smirks at the sight and leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat to get their attention.

“What do you want?” Nancy snaps.

“I want you,” Dave snarls as he points at Anders, “to get the fuck out of my house. Now.”

Anders physically shrinks back and Dave smirks, what a pathetic man.

“It’s my house too!” Nancy argues but Dave simply shakes his head.

“You might live here, Nancy, but it’s my name on the deed,” he counters, relishing the way her lips purse into a tight line as she knows she can’t argue there, “Regardless, if he’s not gone by the time I get back, I will physically remove him.”

“Asshole,” Nancy grumbles under her breath, clearly hoping Dave wouldn’t hear her.

“And you?” Dave fixes his gaze firmly on Nancy now, making her squirm, “I can’t even look at you right now. What you did tonight was beyond obscene, it was grotesque. I honestly don’t recognise you as the woman I married. What I saw tonight, aimed at your own daughter no less, was humiliating. I need to clear my head, I’m going out for a run, it might be a good idea for you to go and stay with Danielle for a few days.”

“Bullshit,” Nancy storms towards Dave, and this time Dave sees the blow coming, he catches her wrist mid-swing and holds it there. She struggles against his grip and her eyes go wide as she realises just how strong Dave is.

“What’s bullshit?” Dave challenges, holding her gaze as he cocks his eyebrow, daring her to accuse him once more.

“Going for a run? What a crock of shit. You’re going to go and fuck her, aren’t you? I’m not blind, Dave. The moment I can prove you’re taking advantage of her, it’s over for you. I’ll take you for all you’re worth. I will ruin you.”

“You can’t stop yourself, can you? You really can’t see how utterly debasing and disgusting these allegations are? Especially for her?” Dave shakes his head as he lets her go, turning on his heel and heading to the door. By some mercy Nancy doesn’t follow, but she continues to scream at him about the prenup, he pays it no mind.

He passes the coat rack on the way out and notices your coat and purse. He takes one last look over his shoulder, Nancy is nowhere to be seen, and he snatches them up before heading out the door. Then he feels it, your coat is strangely heavy, something is weighing it down. He continues walking down to the sidewalk as he fishes through your pocket.

He’s just out of sight of the house when he pulls out your phone. His blood runs cold as he realises just how vulnerable you are right now. He breaks into a sprint as he heads to the parked car that he keeps on standby a few streets over. He fumbles with the keys as his blood rushes loudly in his ears, the moment he’s inside the car he dials Resnik’s number again.

~*~

It’s fucking cold.

You curse yourself as you walk down the side of the road. You also curse the bullshit inconsistency of sidewalks in Austin as you have to cross the street once again just to keep off the road. Back in New York you’d be in thicker clothes and have ample sidewalk to walk down.

But here you are, in Texas, in the Winter. With no coat, no phone, no purse.

Stupid.

You curse to yourself as you flinch when a truck hurtles past you enough to sway you with the turbulence it creates. This isn’t even funny anymore, but you can’t turn back now. You’re only a few blocks away from Ash’s apartment and you’d only be putting yourself in more danger if you did go back.

You reach a crosswalk when you feel it. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you go to cross. It’s an instinctual gnaw at the back of your mind as you see a flicker of movement in a yard across the street.

Four.

You count to yourself mentally, four times that you’d felt like this since you left Nancy’s. The idea of a PI tailing you fresh in your mind as you decide your next move. A gust of wind makes you cry out as it pierces your skin, your teeth chattering as you shiver violently. You cross, trying not to focus on the chain link fence that sways ahead of you. It could just be the wind, or your mind playing tricks on you.

Hyper-vigilance is something you learned long ago. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t checking over your shoulder in public. But this is different, this is something more sinister.

You slow your pace down as you pass the yard where you thought you saw movement. You scan out of your peripheral vision but there’s nothing there. Just an empty yard, grass muted and grey in the winter chill, not even a bush to hide in.

You sigh, trying to roll the tension out of your shoulders as you move on, you’re less than ten minutes’ walk away now. You watch as a black coupe pulls up a street over, parking up, engine off. But no-one exits the car. You would have missed it if it weren’t for how jumped up you are right now.

You know it’s stupid, you’re probably just imagining this as well. But you have to check on your hunch. You cross back over onto the other side of the street, trying to keep casual as your eyes lock on the vehicle up ahead.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach the passenger side window. You take a deep breath and knock on it before bending low to look inside the car. Your eyes go wide as you see the driver.

It’s Dave.

He reels back, recoiling from your gaze and you almost smile at the sight of the unflappable Dave York being startled.

“Can I get in?”

You ask as you gesture to the door handle. You hear the click of the electronic lock opening and pull the door open. You groan as you slump into the passenger seat, the heaters are on full, and you immediately feel your body warming through.

“I can explain-,” Dave starts but you wave your hand at him dismissively.

“I’m too cold,” you grumble as you close your eyes, “And hungry, and pissed off to talk right now. Can we go somewhere to eat and talk there?”

“Sure.”

And once again Dave doesn’t press, even though he must be flustered you’d caught him, doing what? Stalking you? No, this was an act of compassion. You crack your eyes open and look into the back seat to see your purse resting atop your coat. Dave to the rescue yet again. You should be annoyed, irritated that he’s bailing you out of yet another shitty situation. But all you can feel is gratitude.

You ride in silence for a little while, letting the warmth seep back into your bones as you curl and uncurl your toes. By the time the car comes to a halt you’re feeling a little more human. You flutter your eyes open to see the neon sign of a diner flashing at you.

“Does this fit the bill?” Dave asks as he kills the engine.  

“Perfect.” You groan as you haul yourself out of the car, leaving your coat and purse behind. You know your phone is going to be filled with messages and missed calls, and you don’t want to face that right now.

You stride through the glass door and find a booth in the center of the diner. Dave hurries after you, anxious to keep up as he slides into the red and white pleather seat opposite you. The diner is loud and filled with the sound of cutlery scraping on plates and the buzz of multiple conversations echoing around the small space.

Dave looks wrecked, his hair is dishevelled, sticking out at all angles as he clenches his hands together on the table. His dark eyes flick around the diner as if searching for danger and you feel a pang of shame in your chest.

“Hey,” you say softly as you reach forward for his hands, “Are you alright?”

Dave blinks a few times, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“Me?” He scoffs, “You’re asking me if I’m ok? You’re the one that just got ambushed by Nancy and your father, calling you nothing short of a prostitute.”

Dave’s words sting but you can’t deny his candour.

“You’ve got a PI up your ass and a vindictive asshole of a wife,” you shrug as you see the waitress coming over, “I think we’ve both got it pretty rough.”

“What can I get y’all this evening?”

The interruption of the waitress is welcomed as you quickly order something off the menu. Dave gets the same and tells her to keep the coffee coming. You feel Dave’s ankle brush against yours and you don’t flinch away. You expect him to, but his eyes meet yours and there’s comfort there. You anchor yourself, and you expect it’s the same for him.

“So, how’d you find me?”

“Luck, a bit of intuition,” he shrugs, “There’s really only one route into central Austin without hitting the highway. Had to circle through a few neighbourhoods but you’re not exactly hard to spot, underdressed and on foot this time of night.”

You shrug, you had kept to the same road the whole time, crossing for sidewalk safety aside. But you’re not satisfied yet.

“How’d you know Ash lived in central Austin?” You question him further, seeing if you can poke holes in his story. You’re still not wholly convinced he’s telling you everything.

“You’re thorough. You must be formidable in court,” Dave says with a wide smile that makes his cheeks dimple. Do you detect a glimmer of pride in that smile? You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought. You’re so unused to genuine praise it catches you off guard, but you try not to let it distract you.

“Besides, you got home within an hour from leaving the club on your birthday, there’s no way you got an Uber out of the city and to her place in that time on a Friday night. It was the logical place for me to head towards.”

You nod slowly, your curiosity almost sated.

“Last one about finding me,” you say with a smirk as Dave raises an eyebrow at you playfully, “Why’d you come after me? Was it just to give me my things?”

“No, I wanted to make sure you were ok, that was a lot to go through in one evening. None of that should’ve happened. I’m so sorry it did.” He says as his smile falters, “And thinking about you walking an hour back into Austin on your own – at night – left me feeling,” he pauses, trying to find the right word, “Uneasy.”

“Thank you,” you say, meeting his gaze with warmth as you itch to reach out and touch him, “I really appreciate you doing that.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.”

His words surprise you and you swallow around a lump forming in your throat as you try to get back to the matter at hand.

“Right,” you nod as a mug of black coffee appears at your elbow, you thank the server and continue, “What the fuck is going on with you and Nancy? No bullshit this time, what’s your angle?”

Dave looks at you with a wry smile on his lips, his eyes wide as he tilts his head at you.

“Right down to it,” Dave responds with a sigh, “What do you want to know?” Dave asks and you’re caught off guard for a moment at his willingness to open up to you. He’s been a closed book so far, only giving you glimpses of his true feelings. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, like you’re stepping over a line.

“Why are you still with her?”

The question sounds petulant, even to your own ears, but it’s honest and you need to know.

“It’s complicated,” Dave says but puts his hand up before you can protest, you’re already ready to leave at those two words, your ankle moving away from his, “So, let me explain. It’s a lot.”

“Ok,” you concede as you lean back in the booth, “Start talking.”

“I don’t know how much Nancy told you,” Dave shifts in his seat, his voice low, “But you know I’m in the CIA right?”

“Yeah, some kind of pencil pusher ‘analyst’,” you say, making air quotes with your fingers as you speak, “The kind of nondescript role that means you’re actually knee deep in classified shit?”

Dave blinks for a moment, his brows raise as he tries to work out if you’re fucking with him.

“Dave, I was an attorney in New York for five years,” you roll your eyes, “You think I don’t know that every agency has a standard cover title?”

Dave lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as you swear you hear him laugh.

“Ok, fine, let's cut the shit,” Dave meets your gaze as he rests his chin on his clasped hands, elbows firm on the table, “I deal with some seriously dangerous people, and sometimes, no matter how careful we are, there are calls for retribution.”

You sober a little as you let the tension in your shoulders ease.

“Around the time I found out what kind of person Nancy is, one of those threats bore down hard on me and my team,” Dave takes a second, scanning the busy diner with a practiced caution. “And the threat hasn’t cooled off enough since for me to leave her. Nancy is collateral if we split.”

“You’re staying to keep her out of danger?”

Dave nods as the server comes over with your food. You thank her and she promises to come back and refill your coffee soon. You sit there for a while, eating slowly, chewing every bite as you steal glances at Dave.

“Am I a target?”

The question hangs in the air as you meet Dave’s gaze.

“We don’t think so, no.”

Your head snaps up from your meal and you’re almost offended as you stare Dave down.

“You’re not my daughter, and until very recently you lived in New York with little to no contact with your mother.”

“So what?” you add, “I’m not important enough to be profiled?”

“There’s been no evidence that you’ve been targeted,” Dave shrugs and there’s something unspoken there that makes your heart flutter.

“So, all that aside,” you probe further, “You know the prenup is bullshit, right? Like, invalid from the beginning?”

“Of course, I do,” Dave shrugs but a soft blush creeps up his neck as you call him out so hard, “You wrote it up for a New York client so it’s invalid in Texas. Conveniently, you’re not licensed to practise here. Plus, you have a conflict of interest seeing as Nancy is your mother, I wasn’t there at the signing or drawing up of the document, the list goes on.”  

“But you’ve stayed to protect her?”

“Two-for-two,” Dave says with little emotion as he takes a long gulp of his coffee.

“This is all so fucked,” you groan as you push your plate to the side, “So you’re hoping she keeps fucking Danielle, and doesn’t serve you papers until after this threat passes?”

“Something like that,” Dave grunts and you feel for him. None of this is healthy.

“His name is Bryce, by the way. The man she’s sleeping with.”

You fumble for a moment, trying to keep up with the conversation. But you recognise the name, it’s someone your mother has complained about before.  

“Bryce Hall? The president of the HOA?”

“The very same,” Dave affirms as he smirks at you, surprised you know him.

“Nancy used to text bitchy messages about him when she first moved in,” you explain, “She hated having to clear the sidewalk of leaves or something.

“Sounds about right,” Dave nods contemplatively, “Anything else you want to know?”

“Do you regret it?” You ask, keeping Dave’s gaze as you prepare for the worst, for him to tell you that you were a mistake.

“Regret marrying your mom? Of course I do-,” but you cut him off, shaking your head as your feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“No, do you regret what happened between us?”

“No,” Dave covers one of your hands in his own, his fingertips circling around your wrist, “But I need to know something before this conversation goes any further.”

You feel heat flood your body at sensation of his broad hand covering yours.

“Anything,” you nod.

“What happened with Kyle?”

You tense up under his touch and Dave starts to pull away, but you stop him. You thread your fingers through his as you pull him back to you. You need him right now, his grounding presence. He’s warm and it makes your heart clench to feel his skin on yours.

“So, Nancy wasn’t very good at staying sober, even when I was young,” you say, letting out a small sigh as you squeeze Dave’s hand, “It meant that her boyfriends were often left unsupervised with me.”

It’s Dave’s turn to squeeze your hand and you look up to see the rage in his eyes as his nostrils flare.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the only one to touch me,” you fidget in your seat a little, casting a look around the diner, as if to make sure no-one is listening.

“If this is too hard for you, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I asked.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I want to tell you, even if it’s hard.”

Dave rubs his thumb gently over your skin and you smile at the gentle encouragement.

“One night, Nancy was passed out on the sofa, it can’t have been later than eight,” you swallow, your guts twisting as your heart rate increases, you can feel the sweat beading on your brow, “I was reading in my room. Sprawled out in my pjs, music up, then Kyle came in.”

You pause as the server comes and takes your plates, filling your coffee before asking if you need anything else, you both decline. It’s a welcome break as you clear your throat, brushing tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“He started by just sitting on the bed, touching my leg, asking me what I was reading. It ended up with me pressed against the mattress, his hand smothering my face as he-,”

You can’t finish your sentence as you break down, the memory burned into your skin as you feel Dave pull away. You weep as your anxiety tells you that he’s left, your broken sob story too much for him to deal with. You’ve driven another person away with your drama, with your sad little life.

“I’m here.”

Dave’s voice is soft in your ear as he slides into the booth next to you. You look up to see him with his arms open, facing you. You don’t hesitate to throw yourself into his embrace, your fists balling in the fabric of his hoodie as you sob into his chest. His arms wrap around you gently, cradling your shoulders as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

“He raped me Dave, I was a child and he fucking raped me.”

“I know, I know,” he says softly as he holds you close, “None of that was your fault, not a moment of it, you know that right?”

“I know, but after what Nancy said at dinner, I just can’t stop thinking I should have done more.”

“Nancy is a coward and a liar,” Dave growls, “You were a child, you should never have been put in that situation.”

“I hate her,” you cry as you fist your hands tighter in his hoodie, your face buried in his chest.

“I know,” he murmurs into your hair, and you hear the tightness in his voice. You know he’s keeping his own emotions under wraps here. But you know why he’s asked about this. You know where his mind is going.

“You’re nothing like them, like Kyle,” you say, almost to yourself as you ground yourself in the scent of Dave’s body wash, his shampoo. He smells like home.

“You don’t have to say that, you don’t have to do that.”

“I mean it,” you push back, your eyes bleary as you look up into Dave’s sad eyes. “I threatened him with the police at age fourteen, I have hard evidence against you.”

Dave’s jaw ticks to the side at the reminder but he nods slowly.

“I’m not a fourteen-year-old anymore, David,” you say, your voice firm as you hold his gaze, “I know how to say no, I know my own mind.”

“I know but-,”

“No, I know that you’re trying to protect me, again,” you shake your head pushing back from him as you straighten up, “But I need you to know that no matter what happens, I will never regret what we had.”

Dave nods his hands still on your shoulders as he looks you up and down.

“I am sorry that happened to you,” he says softly.

“This isn’t on you, Dave. You shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened.”

“I just don’t want to fail you, be another person who has let you down when you needed them most.”

“Dave, you’re here,” you say as you realise how close you are, “You’ve already done more than anyone else since I moved back.”

He’s silent now, his hands dropping from your shoulders as he nods curtly. He shuffles away from you on the seat, and you feel the hollow sting of rejection in your chest. Despite everything that happened tonight, you still need him. You know you’re pent up and vulnerable, but like always, it isn’t just about sex, or lust, or desire with Dave.

It’s love.

And finally admitting it to yourself only makes the hole in your chest expand. But you blink away the tears as you turn to see Dave looking just as pained as you feel.

“I should get you back to Ash’s place, I’ll need you to give me the address,” he says as he stands, throwing a handful of bills on the table.

“Yeah,” you nod, not trusting yourself to say anything more. You follow him out towards the black coupe. You lean over to grab your coat and purse, already dreading the state of your notifications. But you place them by your feet, not wanting to face the noise yet. You give Dave the address of Ash’s apartment block and let the sat nav fill the silence between you.

“Dave?” You break the silence and his eyes flick to you in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah?”

“I felt like I was being followed tonight, like there was someone with me from the moment I left the house,” you take a shaky breath, knowing how paranoid you sound, “Do you think it was the PI?”

“Probably,” he answers after a second, his tone flat, “He’s been sniffing around me for just over a month.”

“Shit, that’s around when Nancy hit you right?”

“Correct,” he nods as he pulls up at a set of lights, looking at you briefly with a sad smile, “That’s how she knew about your leaving with Ash.”

“I see,” you nod as it all fits together, “How long have you known?”

“From the moment she charged the first consultation on our joint credit card.”

You pause for a moment and your lips quirk up into an incredulous smirk.

“She didn’t seriously use your credit card to pay for a PI to follow you?”

“You can’t make this shit up, can you?” He chuckles and you throw your head back as you let yourself laugh at her lack of foresight.

“So, I guess kissing you goodnight is out of the question?” You say as Dave pulls up outside the apartment block.

“I don’t think-,” Dave starts as he puts his hands up to protest but you cut him off.

“I’m kidding Dave,” you say with a smile as you lean back on the headrest.

“Funny,” he says with a dry laugh as he shakes his head. You can’t think of a reason to linger so you gather your things and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Goodnight, Dave,”

“Goodnight,” he says your name softly as you exit the car. You don’t turn back as you ascend the stairs, you know it will hurt too much if you see him watching you go. You’ve put yourself through enough emotional torture tonight, you might just break if you look back.

You fish your phone and keys out of your pockets but pause as you feel the crinkle of paper. You pull out a small envelope with your name on it and the following message.

Don’t play me until you’re alone.

~*~

Dave waits until he sees the front door close behind you before he relaxes in his seat. He sits there for a moment, collecting himself as he feels the anguish burning under his skin. He just wants to make it all go away, all of your grief, all of your hurt. He wants you safe, happy.

He loves you.

He’s pushed down that inappropriate word for weeks. Put his feelings down to lust, excitement, hell even the thrill of the taboo. But nothing about tonight was exciting, there wasn’t an ounce of lust in his body as he heard your mother debase and degrade you. There was no thrill in hearing how you were raped at fourteen and blamed for it. Nor in fully realising all the neglect Nancy and your dad put you through.

All he feels is a deep, festering hatred for your mother, and a desire to never let anyone hurt you like that again.

He picks up his phone and dials Resnik’s number.

“Hey, Boss, Nancy hasn’t stopped calling all night. I tried to make up some shit about having food poisoning, but she’s persistent.”

“Get back to my house, I’m going for a run for real this time, give her the photos she so desperately wants.”

“But, boss, I’m a couple of blocks away!” Resnik whines down the phone and Dave smirks to himself.

“Better start running Resnik, you’ve got twenty minutes. Don’t forget your camera!”

Dave hangs up before Resnik can complain, laughing at his subordinate from deep in his chest. He’s already heading back out of the city at pace. Needling Resnik like this felt like an adequate consequence to his lecherous comments earlier.

All he can hope is that Nancy’s off grovelling to Bryce when he gets back, because he has work to do. If he’s to be sure to come out of this unscathed, his story needs to be airtight. He needs to treat this like any other job, any other profile. There can’t be a single discrepancy or loose end.

He needs to talk to you about making sure your copies of your joint stream are stored offline to protect you both. He needs to get his team on scrubbing any screen recordings of that stream floating around the porn sites.

After tonight he knows Nancy will be on a war path. But he’s ready, and Nancy will never know what hit her.

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[drabblesandimagines]

Cidolfus x fem reader fluff with either sick day or opposites attract 👻🐕

Also just wanted to say your fics are amazing and I'm basically stalking your account almost every day now. With you being one of the only ones making fluffy content for my favourite boys, please keep going. Lots of love, and you deserve all the followers ❤️.

Thank you, lovely! I hope you enjoy <3 Petal Cidolfus Telamon x female (Branded) reader

You’re too hot – a particularly odd sensation as you struggle to recall the last time when you’d felt anything but cold. Spending so many nights sleeping in a drafty chocobo barn had left a permanent chill in your bones.

There’d been a heavy storm a day or so ago when you were on the road to the market – your master took shelter in the carriage and had left you shivering outside on the saturated ground, shackled to one of the large wheels for good measure.

You had made it to Northreach somehow, but hardly the picture of a healthy Bearer who would make good coin. A chesty cough, pale skin, unable to keep focus. Your master was in a foul mood – there hadn’t been an ounce of interest in you at the auction and he was loathed to drag you all the way back without anything to show for it. The market had shut for the evening and so he had moved to the outskirts the opposite side of the town – the mothercrystal of Orinflamme shining in the distance, your arms shackled above your head once more on the carriage’s great wheel in the hopes of flogging you to traders making their way in and out of the town in the early evening.

You no longer had the strength to keep your head held up, your mind fuzzy, so it’s not a surprise that you don’t hear the approaching footsteps until a new, deep voice booms from a few metres away.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

“You look like a man who appreciates a good deal.” Your master chuckles. “Got a Bearer for sale.”

There’s a gloriously cool, gloved hand placed upon your forehead for what turns out to be too short a moment before it is removed.

“Oh, petal.” A velvety voice tuts sympathetically at you in a murmur – too low for your master’s ears. “She’s burning up with a fever.”

“These Branded always run hot,” is his scoffed response. “She’s good stock, mind. Only a little bit of stiffness about her.” He grabs a fistful of your hair in a harsh grip and yanks your head up, and you blearily take in the stranger who is crouched in front of you.

He reminds you of a lord the way he is dressed - his shirt somewhat open with a large collar, two sword hilts jutting out from his hip, clean shaven and looking remarkably unimpressed at the sight before him. “And you really think you’re going to be able to sell her in this condition?”

“If you’re not interested, I kindly ask you to fuck off.” He shoves your head forward to emphasise his point as he relinquishes the grip on your hair.

“Now, now, no need to be rude - I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” The stranger gets back up to his feet. “Why are you selling her?”

“Honestly, I could buy a new Branded that won’t give me any lip for farming work. I’m too old for that.”

“Oh, she’s spirited, is she?”

“That’s a word for it. So, are you interested?”

“Hm.” The man reaches for the gil pouch by his side, as if to check its weight. “What’s the price?”

“10,000 gil.”

He whistles. “For a sick, stubborn Bearer?”

“She’s not sick. And I’m sure a young gentleman like yourself would be able to knock the stubbornness out of her. I paid 15,000 for her originally – it’s a bargain.”

If your head wasn’t pounding, your mouth completely dry, you would’ve had something to say about being described as a bargain… but all your energy is focused on breathing.

“Fine.” The mysterious man agrees, pulling off one of his leather gloves and offering his hand.

Your master grabs hold of it eagerly, beaming. “Pleasure doing busi…” But the sentence is cut off as sparks of lightning crackle in the air, blue bolts shooting from the stranger’s hand and up your master’s arm before sparking all over his body.

Your master grunts, drops to the ground, twitching, eyes wide open in your direction.

He’s alive, breathing, but he won’t be getting up again anytime soon.

The mysterious man puts his glove back on and, using his leather boot, gently rolls your master over. He bends down and grabs a bundle of keys that had been attached to his belt before crouching down in front of you once more. You wonder if you’re next.

You tense as a gentle hand cups your cheek, bracing yourself for pain, but it only tilts your head up to meet his eyes. He smiles – sympathetic and kind. “Hello, petal. Name’s Cid. I’d ask you yours, but something tells me you’re not up for much talking right now. I’m going to get you out of these shackles and we’ll find somewhere comfy to rest up for the night. You’re safe with me – you have my word.”

He removes his hand and you manage to keep your head upright, a little in disbelief as he places the key in the lock of one of the shackles and undoes the mechanism, careful to lay your arm down in your lap before repeating the action with the other.

“There we go. I’m going to pick you up now, petal. You just rest.”

He places an arm around your back, another under your knees and gets to his feet with a slight grunt, mumbling about his own knees. The upward motion seems too much to bear, however, and unconsciousness takes over.

--

Isabelle raises an eyebrow at the sight of Cid at her door, you cradled against his chest. She puts her hands on her hips and tuts.

“Cid, it’s not bring your own.”

“Not what it looks like.” He lifts you up, causing your head to lull back and reveal the Brand on your cheek. “Petal’s not well. Any chance of a bed for the evening and we’ll be out of your hair after dawn?”

“Of course.” Isabelle steps back, widening the door to permit Cid entry. “What happened?”

“Some git trying to sell her on the outskirts. He’s taking a little nap. Poor thing’s absolutely frozen.”

“Did anyone see?”

Cid shakes his head. “No. I’d be surprised if he even remembers.”

“Girls,” the Dame calls to a couple of the women hanging by the door – Cid isn’t a stranger to partaking in the delights the Veil has to offer, after all. “Prepare a fire in Cid’s usual room. Extra blankets.”

Cid nods in thanks, heading towards the staircase to a room he knows well.

--

You don’t know what’s real or what is a dream over the next few hours. Fleeting moments of consciousness - a cold compress against your forehead, a rough voice coaxing you to drink something that feels soothing on your throat and warming in your stomach.

You wake up feeling… comfortable? It’s an odd sensation. What would you be on that’s so soft? You open your eyes, confused at the fact that you’re covered in a soft knitted blanket. The room is strange – a bed, a chair and a man standing over the fireplace, rousing the flames higher with a fire poker.

He turns and his eyes widen as he sees you awake and you panic and begin fumbling with the blanket, stuttering out an apology as you try to get up. How did you end up in a bed of all things?

“Easy now,” he holds up his hands in surrender as he takes a cautious step forward. “I meant what I said – you’re safe with me.”

You’ve just managed to disentangle yourself from the blankets, getting up on legs that just about to collapse underneath you. The man is quick to your side, a hand on the small of your back and another around your shoulder, guiding you back down upon the bed.

“Master, I-”

“None of that, petal.” He cuts off your protest. “I am not your master, and, from this day forward, you will never have one again. Pop your legs back up.”

You do so, automatically – an order is an order, no matter how confusing it may be – and he tucks the discarded blanket around you with a satisfied smirk.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Name’s Cid,” he grins, bowing with mock flourish. “May I have the pleasure of yours?”

“I don’t… Where are we?” You ignore his question.

“We’re at The Veil, in Northreach.” The Veil rings a bell in your head and the colour must drain from your cheeks as Cid is quick to try and set your mind at ease. “Not like that - the Dame is a friend of mine, just set us up for the night. You were too ill to travel.”

“Travel?”

Cid nods, sitting down heavily in the chair by your bedside. “Mm-hm. You see, I have a place that’s safe for people like you, where we can live on own own terms…”

Your eyes flicker to his Brandless cheek. “We?”

He smiles.

-------

“Here we go, petal.” Cid smiles as he enters the solar, holding the bottle aloft in triumph. “Tarja thinks you’re over the worst of it, but she’d rather you keep up with the tonics for another few days.”

You shuffle upright, aided by the multitude of pillows Cid had set up at the headboard of the bed, and frown at the prospect – the tonics are horribly bitter due to one of the plants that make up its components. “Really? But I’m feeling so much better…” Your protest falls flat at how hoarse your voice remains.

“Ah-ah,” he chides as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and proceeds to pop the cork out of the bottle, holding it out in offering. “Good girls take their medicine.”

It is a battle you know you won’t win. With a sigh, you take it from his hand, closing your eyes tightly and down the tonic with a grimace. It’s silly, but sometimes you think you’d rather go through having the Brand removed again that drinking another one of these foul things. “Thank you.” Cid plucks the now empty bottle from your hand and places it down on the side, smiling wistfully at you – it still makes your scalp tingle, even after all these years.  

“What’s that smile for?”

“Just a bit of déjà vu, love.” He wraps his fingers around your hand, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. “This reminds me of that first wonderful night we spent together.” “How?” Your brow furrows in confusion, thinking back to the night he'd first kissed you in the solar after a successful mission and a glass or two of wine. He laughs. “Not that one.”

“If you’re thinking of the one at The Veil, we have a very different opinion of what counts as wonderful.”

“How can it not have been wonderful, the night you came into this old man’s life? Only difference is, now I can do this,” he leans in to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, withdrawing quickly with a wink at your pout. “There’ll be more when you’re better.”

“But I am be-”

There’s a frantic knock upon the solar door and Cid turns, keeping your hand held in his.

“Come in.”

The door is flung open by an out of breath Gav, face red with exertion. “It’s… time.” He wheezes, leaning on her knees. “Shiva’s on the… field, like.”

“Right…” Cid nods, and you don’t miss the subtle frown as his eyes flick from Gav to you in thought. You squeeze his fingers in unspoken affirmation. “Are you sure?”

“Go. You don’t know when you’ll get another chance.”

He doesn’t need to hear it again. “Gav, tell Goetz to get ready. We’re heading out.”

“On it!” Gav turns and sprints back down the hall towards the staircase, and you squeeze Cid’s fingers once more to gain his attention.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” You ask, timidly. His forearms are mottled with petrification now, no matter how much he tries to hide his discomfort from you.

He smirks, patting your thigh through the blanket. “Don’t you worry about me, love. You just concentrate on making sure you’re fully recovered when I return, hm?”

You nod as he gets to his feet with a final squeeze of your hand. He double-checks the belts that sit ever present at his hip and adjusts his gloves ever so slightly – a nervous habit, but not one he’d ever confess. Once satisfied, Cid leans down and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Behave. I don’t need to tell you that both Charon and Tarja will have no qualms in dragging you back to bed if they see you wandering around.”

You roll your eyes and nod, knowing it’s true - you had remained spirited - and watch as he walks over to the door. He hesitates a moment, leaning his head against the doorframe as he takes one final look.

“I love you, petal.”

You smile, gripping the blankets in absence of his hand. “I love you too, Cid.” --

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

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[fruitcoops]

just had a tornado blow through...(we're okay, it's kinda normal here). but could we get another blackout/big storm fic? (if you're up for it?)

Glad you're alright! We've got a big storm here tonight as well <3 Have some Lions working through life to distract. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW mild/ medium relationship issues, Sirius' bad habits, and previous people not being very nice to Leo

There was something in the water. Remus was sure of it.

“Put—stop it! Put it down!”

Maybe carbon monoxide was leaking into the rink. Plus all of their houses and apartments.

“I told you, it’s not about the rutabaga.”

Or, fuck it, Mercury was in the microwave again. In the Gatorade? Something like that. He wondered if Marlene would know.

Arthur knocked on the doorframe and the mass of grumbling died down; the air still tasted like sour sweat and irritation and Remus wrinkled his nose at the mats. After a cursory look around the room, Arthur raised a brow and gestured with his clipboard. “Y’know, I’ve got a lot of notes—a lot of notes—but none of you look like you can handle them right now, so we’re doing the short version. Cap, come see me. Lupin, Moody’s waiting for you, don’t give me that face. Olli, figure your shit out. Kuns…Kuns.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Tremzy, stop being mean, and Harz, stop being stupid. Bliz, Layla gets the honor of having you this afternoon. Do your cooldowns without biting each others’ heads off, please, and then go home and sleep this off. Goodnight.”

“Night, Coach,” came the mumbled chorus.

Remus chewed the inside of his lip while he stripped his shin pads off. Sirius was already halfway out the door, still in his under armor—the rush of endorphins that usually accompanied the sight of his gorgeous fiancé was notably absent. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Recenter. It was a rough day, rough week, rough whatever. It would be best to just let it go now.

A hand clapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!”

“Woah, hey, easy.” Talker held both hands low, palms down between their stalls. “Just saying hi.”

“What—” Breathe. Recenter. Remus blinked a few times to clear his head. “Fuck, no, you’re good. Sorry. Hi. Sorry.”

Talker’s gaze turned dark with worry. “You okay?”

“Just…in my head.” It was a shit answer, but his vague wave seemed to get the point across. Talker nodded slowly. His hands remained on his own side. “You?”

“Been better, been worse.” He tipped his head back and forth, making his small earring swing. A gift from Noelle, if Remus remembered correctly. He watched it catch the fluorescent light for a few seconds before Talker spoke again. “Weird energy in here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Remus turned back to his pads with a humorless laugh. “No kidding. We should crack a window or something.”

Talker hummed, tucking his hands beneath himself. One knee bounced incessantly and Remus tried not to let it bother him. “Reminds me of the you-know-whats.”

Remus’ hands itched to knock on wood. “Yep.”

“But we’re not there. Yet,” Talker added after a pause.

“Nope.”

“Cap’s being…interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered.

Something like relief rippled over Talker’s expression. “So it’s not us.”

“When is it ever?” Remus offered a wry smile. “He gets like this. You know that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Talker’s shoulder relaxed against his own, warm and solid. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s really not you, man.”

“I know.”

“T.” Remus waited until he looked over, and ducked his head slightly. “It’s not you.”

The kicked-puppy look in Talker’s eye made his chest hurt. Remus knew he had a tendency to put it all on himself—to think he was solely responsible for maintaining the team’s happiness. They were friends for a reason, after all. A missed pass wasn’t the end of the world, but…god, in the NHL? It sure felt like it.

Leo blew past them, not quite stomping, but certainly not pleased. Remus followed his path and found Logan staring at the floor with the same mournful gaze that plagued half the room. His stomach twisted. For a group of guys with everything in the world, they were a bunch of fucking messes, sometimes.

He patted Talker once on the shoulder before standing; he didn’t bother with shoes. It was a quick enough trip to get by in his socks. Moody’s office door was already open when he arrived, and he had barely raised his hand to knock on the frame when a grunt invited him inside.

The door closed with a faint noise. Silence thickened the air, save for the scribble of Moody’s pen. “Coach said you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted awkwardly. He didn’t like this stiffness. They had never been like that before.

Moody clicked his pen shut and leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rocking back and forth. “Layla says you’re favoring your bad side.”

Tattletale. Remus bit the instinctive thought back. That wasn’t fair. “Probably.” Moody raised an unamused brow at him. “Yeah,” he admitted, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

“The league doesn’t like it when I’m not nice to you boys.” Moody fixed him in place with a look. “But you’re not a snitch, so cough it up, you little shit.”

A scowl tried to claw its way onto Remus’ face, but he kept himself steady. Moody had done too much for him and saved him from too many bad places to be iced out. He kicked at a dust bunny. “Nine years.”

“Since…?”

“Since.”

“Ah.”

He sniffed, dry-eyed and nauseated. “Next Monday. Nine years. I still remember the day and time it happened.”

“We’re not playing Vegas next week.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Moody went quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. His chair creaked as he rocked in slow, maddening patterns. He’d have his leg off, tucked beneath his desk; he rarely left it on when he didn’t need to. Something about sweat. Itching. The works, he’d grumble if Remus asked. The ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug—a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa—sat undisturbed on his desk, filled to bursting. Pens, pencils, a spoon, a screwdriver, an inexplicable parrot feather, all interspersed with his steadily-growing collection of flags.

Remus remembered the day the first one had appeared. A simple rainbow with a wooden stick, no bigger than a postcard. Moody hadn’t said a thing, but he knew it was for him. It wasn’t the only one anymore. The sight of it still made his throat tight.

“Come see me if you need to,” Moody said at last. He tapped his pen on his stack of papers, then nodded. “For the record, I’m not worried. Out of my office.”

“Have a good night, Moody.” Thunder rolled overhead as he turned to the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

He got another grunt in the affirmative and turned the doorknob, hoping the squeaky top hinge would muffle his sigh. The door swung open, Remus walked face-first into Sirius’ chest, and everything went black as night.

--

“I don’t know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit.”

“My feelings aren’t bullshit.”

“Mon dieu—”

“I’m serious, I’m not angry.” Leo shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. The salt shaker rattled on the counter.

“Then what are you?” Logan demanded, keeping his voice low.

“I’m—” He pressed his lips together and tilted his face up to the ceiling. Upset. Hurt. Stressed. Frustrated. Angry. “I don’t know.”

“I already apologized for the rhubarb—”

“Rutabaga.”

“Jesus, Leo.” Logan’s tone was sharp; he flinched. Okay, maybe he deserved that one. He heard Logan’s unsteady exhale and felt a gentle touch on his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have listened better, or texted you when I wasn’t sure.”

And there it was again, that burning flare of annoyance. Leo shrugged him off and turned to the coffee maker. Someone had left their disposable cup in the machine the last time it was used. The sight made him want to take the entire thing and slam it on the floor.

“Leo?”

“I don’t want you to text me when you aren’t sure.” His voice came out shaky and he silently cursed himself. At least his hands didn’t tremble while he swapped the cups. “I—Logan, I shouldn’t have to be your food dictionary.”

“Hey.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek at the genuine hurt in Logan’s voice and dug through the mug cupboard. “Look, it’s fine, just…look it up if you’re not sure. It’s not like I hide my cookbooks.”

Or, better yet, be a capable adult. Logan’s sneakers shuffled on the linoleum. Where was his goddamn mug? “D’accord,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll—I can do that.”

Was it bad that Leo wanted him to push harder? Maybe he was just jonesing for a fight, but Logan’s instant buckling made him feel even worse. They had been waspish with each other earlier, enough that Finn outright refused to be in the same room until they figured themselves out—perhaps Logan had worn out his ability to argue for the day.

Leo snorted humorlessly. That would be a first.

Pastel yellow caught his peripheral vision. He clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and took a deep, fortifying breath. Throwing a mug at a wall would get him fired. Throwing things at Logan would never be something he did, in this life or the next, no matter how angry he may or may not be.

Leo plucked the Me-Wow! mug from it’s place—dirty—in the sink—also dirty—by its tail-shaped handle and dropped it in the trash, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Logan and his coffee behind. Thunder rumbled overhead and guilt bubbled up. He shouldn’t leave like that, not when the storm was only going to get worse. Logan didn’t do well alone and upset. He had almost certainly left his headphones at home, too. Leo was never the one to leave but he just couldn’t take it—

He made it ten feet down the hall before the lights went out and silence doused the building.

Fuck.

--

James was not live, laugh, loving in these conditions. First of all, his best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was imploding with self-loathing for approximately the seventh time this week. Second, his wife’s best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was a nervous wreck despite his best attempts to keep himself together. And third, two of the rookies had worked themselves into a tiff that made Finn look like that.

Finn watched Logan leave after Leo in utter misery. Poor kid belonged in an ASPCA commercial.

In truth, James didn’t know what went wrong, exactly. Sirius had these cycles—he’d ride high and be so firm in himself, in what he loved and worked for, then crash so hard James expected it to leave visible wounds. It was far more frequent in the early days. Since Remus entered the picture, Sirius hadn’t spiraled more than a handful of times. It was like he needed a pressure-release valve to make sure all those internal works didn’t melt or rust over. Remus was better at getting Sirius to talk than just about anyone. It was shitty that Remus’ wan smiles and sickly pallor had to align with the exact time Sirius most needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

James did his best, but he wanted them to be happy more than anything. More often than not, it meant he didn’t push nearly enough. They all had bad habits.

He knew Coach would bring it up today. Sirius’ dark mood had set them all on edge, caught in that place between wanting to prove themselves and wanting to stay out of the way. Whatever was happening between Leo and Logan had brought the scrap of good mood to rock-bottom. There was only so much slack James could pick up without exhausting himself, and he was already at the end of his rope.

Talker was still fussing with his sock tape when James looked over. The stickiness was dead from his rhythmic wrapping and unwrapping, but he didn’t seem to care. James nudged his toe with the front of his skate. “ ‘Sup?”

Talker half-shrugged. “Not much.”

“You were good in the scrimmage today.”

His hands stuttered on the roll before evening out again. “You, too.”

James scooted over into Remus’ stall and lowered his head, turning slightly away from the center of the room for an iota of privacy. “You wanna talk about it? If this is about the pass—”

“Noelle can’t make it for my birthday.”

Oh. Oh. James’ heart sank. “Aw, buddy.”

“They’re in the playoffs and someone rescheduled.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “It’s dumb, I just…”

“Miss her,” James finished when he trailed off.

Talker nodded. “Distance sucks.”

“I know.”

James tried not to be offended by Talker’s immediate skepticism. “You do?”

“Lily stayed in Boston for three years before transferring up here.” Worst three years of my life. “She wanted her BS in chemistry. I wasn’t going to be the schmuck to hold her back. We called, and FaceTimed, and texted when she was at school, but it—”

“Wasn’t the same,” they said in unison.

The ball of tape fell pathetically next to the trash bin. “I want to hug her,” Talker said. “It sounds so stupid, but I want to hug her. And—I don’t know, it’s been rainy today. She likes it when it rains.”

“Yeah.” James leaned over to bump his shoulder. “I hear if you cross your fingers and jump in a circle three times, your wishes come true.”

Talker was halfway through a laugh when the lights went out.

--

Oh my god, I went blind. The thought was wild and harebrained and ridiculous. So, precisely how Remus was feeling in every other aspect of his life.

“Oh.” Sirius sounded surprised. His hands were firm on Remus’ upper arms. “Bonjour.”

Remus blinked a few times to let his vision adjust to the sudden darkness. The remnants of the team’s shouts of surprise echoed briefly before going quiet. “Uh, hi,” he managed. Sirius was nothing more than a blob of shadow, but he felt along his arms and chest until he found a shoulder to pat. “Sorry. Power’s out?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh. Did you…did you need something?”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. “Uh. No, not really.”

Liar, but okay. Remus patted him again, and let his hand linger. The rink felt different like this. Low murmuring had started up again in the locker room, but everything else was grave-quiet without the familiar buzz of electricity. It felt like the heartbeat had stopped. Like they had paused in time. “We should—should we go back to the locker room?”

Sirius’ hands pulsed where he held Remus. “Sure,” he said with the reluctance of someone being asked to walk headfirst into the ocean.

Lightning cracked outside and Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius worrying at the inside of his lip in the brief light. “We can stay here,” he offered after a moment. “Or, like…go somewhere else for a bit.”

“Can we?”

The relief in Sirius’ voice ached. They had been so pent-up lately, neither willing to break the ice first but both suffering from their shared bad moods. Remus knew he had been more lost in his thoughts than down on Earth for days, and Sirius was being so…so Sirius. But not his Sirius. The Sirius that was twitchy, the Sirius that tossed and turned all night. The Sirius that barely finished his dinner.

Remus rolled the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt between his thumb and pointer finger, and pulled him in for a hug. His stiffness dissolved in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Sirius’ collarbone. He smelled good when Remus took a deep inhale, laundry soap and cologne. His arms were strong and solid around Remus’ back—he felt a few deep breaths come and go under his palms and inclined his head to let Sirius’ bury his face in his neck. His hair was damp from his post-practice rinse. It tickled Remus’ nose along the wings he liked to play with when Sirius was sleepy and cuddly. He sighed again. “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t there for you this week.” Sirius’ breath warmed his neck. His hold on Remus tightened. “You don’t need to be sorry, loup.”

“Okay,” Remus said softly. “But I am.”

“If you’re sorry, then I’m—” Sirius broke off with a tired laugh and nuzzled further into his neck. “I don’t know. Throwing myself at your feet and begging for forgiveness.”

Remus snorted at that mental image, but held him closer anyway. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like feeling like this.”

“I don’t,” Sirius agreed. “Doesn’t mean I should stop paying attention to you.”

“I’ve been doing the same to you,” he reminded him gently.

“You had a reason.”

“And you didn’t?”

Sirius fell quiet. His fingertips slipped along the divot of Remus’ spine while his palm warmed the small of his back; Remus felt a bit silly, standing there in his socks in the dark, but it didn’t really matter when he could feel Sirius’ heart beginning to even out at last. Someone padded out of the locker room and down the hall. Red hair stood out for a half-second when lightning struck again and his worry eased. If Finn was going to check on his boys, everything would sort itself out.

“I hate that this still happens.” Sirius’ voice barely cleared a whisper. “It sneaks up on me, and then I can’t sleep and I’m not hungry—or, I am, I just can’t—and I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I know, baby.”

“I want to sleep next to you and not be thinking about the next game, Re.”

Remus slipped his hands beneath Sirius’ arms and pressed their bodies together like he could press reassurance into him. If he could take that burden, he would. If he could fix it, he would. If he had the right words to tell Sirius that he didn’t care whether he was perfect or a wreck, he would. He pushed his nose under the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and kissed him there. “I love you.”

A small sound stuck in Sirius’ throat.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with another kiss. Just because he could.

The rise and fall of Sirius’ shoulders was steady now. “Je t’aime aussi. Whatever you need for this week, I’m here, okay? I’m in your nook.”

“My…nook?”

“Your—” Sirius huffed a laugh. “I’m on your side. Whatever the saying is.”

“In my corner?” Remus suggested around a smile. Sirius grumbled something vaguely agreeable and swatted at him, but never loosened their hug for a second.

--

Leo was holding him, and he wasn’t even angry anymore. Not like he had been. Thunder rattled a distant window and Logan’s grip twisted in the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he said.

Leo kissed his temple. “Yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence. He was usually so good at problem-solving, but every time he tried to speak, his tongue got stuck on the words. The anger had burnt itself out. The frustration and annoyance were still there, alongside the hurt. He wished Finn was there. Finn always knew what words to use.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said haltingly. Logan shifted in his arms. “I was shitty to you. Earlier, I mean. I should have talked to you.”

Logan didn’t answer. Somehow, that was the worst outcome. Leo knew how to match him in a verbal fight.

Lightning flashed. Logan flinched. Leo held him like he alone could stop the light from taking his boyfriend by surprise. That was it, wasn’t it? Even pissed off, he’d still hold Logan rather than leaving him in the dark with a thunderstorm.

They didn’t speak, just swayed in place. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer each second before coming to a halt in the doorway. “Babes?”

“Here,” they chorused softly.

“Um.” Finn audibly hesitated. “Okay, give me a landmark. I’m so blind right now.”

“By the countertop,” Leo offered. Logan burrowed deeper into his chest. He was fever-hot the way he got when he was upset. Finn’s noise of sympathy when he found them and felt it somehow made it worse. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey.” Leo heard the sound of a soft kiss. “Lo, you good?”

“Ouais,” came the murmured answer.

They lapsed into silence for the length of another roll of thunder. “And you…” Finn faltered. “You figured yourselves out?”

Leo looked away despite the darkness. They remained silent.

“Right,” Finn sighed.

“I don’t know what I did,” Logan blurted. “You said this wasn’t about the rutabaga, but it is, and you said you’re not angry, but you are, and I’m confused. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did to upset you, Peanut. I’m being so honest right now.”

“That’s the problem,” Leo said helplessly.

Logan clutched at his shirt, as if the answers were hidden in the fabric. “What?” he asked. “What is the problem? Stop doing that, I told you, I’m confused. Are you angry?”

“A little,” Leo choked out. Ugh, honesty was sawdust in his mouth.

“Is it about the rutabaga?”

“No.”

Logan made a frustrated noise, but Finn cut him off before he could continue. “What is it about, sweetheart?” he asked, so gentle it burned.

Leo let out a long breath, unwinding one arm from Logan’s waist to wrap it around Finn instead. He was nice and cool from his shower. They had all been running too hot lately.

“I’m not your mom, Lo,” he began. “We’re all grown-ups here. You know what food looks like. You know how to google things.” He felt the feelings ramp up again and rather than swallowing them back, let them siphon out on an exhale. Everything inside him was a miserable, knotted mess. “You don’t need me to come to the store with you all the time, and it pisses me off when you keep asking because I’m—'better at it’, or whatever. It’s not my job to shop for you. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Logan’s chest caved against his own. He mumbled something under his breath and Leo closed his eyes.

“I can’t hear you when you do that, c’mon, please—"

“I said, it’s not because I need you to shop for me.” Logan’s voice shook slightly, but not with anger.

“Then why would you ask me to walk to the store with you for the ‘right garlic’?” he sighed.

Logan raised his head, leaving a cold spot on the left side of Leo’s chest. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

That—was not the answer he had been expecting. You’re better at it, Logan would say. You know the foods better than I do. The realization came in waves; he had been teasing. Joking. Making it a bit. And Leo thought he was dead serious the whole damn time. All the frustration he had built up around himself cam down with a rush and a clatter. His heart made a break for hell with a pit stop at his stomach. He stared into the dark nothingness of the rink break room and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I…” He broke off. Words had gotten him into this mess. Were they both that terrible at communicating properly? Finn bumped his arm and he took the hint (for once), wrapping Logan in a hug. By some miracle, Logan hugged him back. “That is the sweetest fucking thing, and I’m so sorry,” he managed, hoarse. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Logan, that was such a fucked-up thing for me to think.”

“I do actually like you, you know,” Logan said, muffled in his shoulder.

The remnants of Leo’s heart went for another spin through the shredder. “No, I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I like you, too.” He pressed a hard kiss to Logan’s temple and squeezed him tighter. “I like you so much. So much.”

“And I know what kind of garlic you like.”

Tears made Leo’s eyes sting and he violently wished them back. He had no right to cry over this. None at all. “Of course you do.”

Logan scratched lightly between his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to think about the type of people that made you think I’d do that, though. But if you want to give me names and addresses…”

Leo laughed weakly and felt Finn huff against him. “No, none of that,” Leo said with a kiss to Logan’s messy curls. He kissed his cheek, too, and his lips for good measure. Slow and easy, the way they both liked it. He wanted to make sure Logan was paying attention. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You did nothing wrong. I love you so, so much and I never should have thought that about you.”

In the hallway, the whir of generators kicked up. Soft light cast Logan in gold and dull shadows, just enough to make out the conflicted look on his face. His thumb was rough against Leo’s jaw. “I wish you thought better of yourself,” he said quietly. “You’re fun to be around, even walking to the store.”

I wish I had thought better of you. Leo pulled him close without a word and caught Finn’s gaze over Logan’s shoulder. His expression told him everything he needed to know, and he shut his eyes as Finn’s arms came around them both. A kiss lingered just above his ear. Leo kind of wanted to cry all over again.

--

The generators were a masterpiece of mechanics. The emergency switch flipped the moment the building lost power from the main grid, pooling energy around the rink itself to keep the ice solid. The rest of the lights would come on within fifteen to twenty minutes, beginning with the stadium seats and ending with the more fringe areas, like locker room and kitchens. They were top of the line, the best you could buy for a massive space that relied heavily on electricity to keep it functional.

They were no match for the Lions.

Ice cream, popsicles, and enough beer to cover the team twice over were liberated from the various refrigerators in less than five minutes. The team gathered on the floor of the locker room with iPhone flashlights and glowsticks (also ‘borrowed’ from the adjacent rooms) to enjoy their haul in peace and to play stupid, silly games like middle schoolers at a sleepover. They played games for a living, for crying out loud. Their favorite game. Why on earth would they take it too seriously when an opportunity like this presented itself?

Equal cheers and groans went up when the lights came back on. Moody was the first to leave, having only stuck around that long because the space outside his office door was occupied with an apparently necessary conversation. Arthur was next. The general consensus among the players was that the weather was simply too bad to risk driving. For their safety, they should stay and enjoy their goodies.

The morning security shift found them right where Arthur left them, puppy-piled by their stalls and surrounded by joyous havoc.

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Monthly special: Variable Barricade crossover!

I'm finally done with it! For now it doesn't differ much from the game, really I was rewriting the scenes more than anything but I'm glad it's finally done. It might be weird for now but honestly I just can't wait to get to write the romance!

Taglist: @audre-falrose

If you want to join the taglist just send an ask or dm me!

Reader here is female and has established background.

Cw: Age gap (Reader is 18 and the ladies are ages 20-24)

Next chapter =>

A young woman from a wealthy family always seeks a spouse who is of an equal status or preferably higher. At least that's what you always liked to believe…

As the only heir of the L/N family, you had your fair share of responsibilities. Marriage just happened to be on the higher priority list. It was expected of you. You had to pick yourself a man or allow your family to pick him for you.

It was a lot to agree to, given you never had any interest in men. Oh how you remember those meetings with businessmen who tried to match you with their sons. While not all of them were that bad it didn't change the fact that you ever only saw yourself beside a woman.

But you can't have everything in this world, so you've accepted the fact that your love life might never be fulfilling to you.

… but you were never so clueless about the upcoming storm.

Part one: chapter 1- Engagement at the first sight.

"Good morning miss Y/N" your maid greeted you with a practiced smile.

"Good morning"

"I've prepared your bag for today, is there anything else you require?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you" taking your bag you realized that it's slightly heavier than normal, but it's likely due to the extra materials you had prepared for the start of the semester. As a soon to be heir you've attended a prestigious school, it almost feels weird how close you are to graduation- where all of your actual responsibilities will begin.

Before your mind drifted away fully you've heard a familiar voice "Good morning my lady, I trust you're ready for school? You still have a few more minutes before we have to go" turning around you saw Thoma. He was one of many servants, but he was unlike all of them. He was your true ally… but even if you hold him in such high regard he had recently abandoned you as soon as your vacation had started. Granted his trip was purely to perfect his skills as a butler, but he still decided to hide his information from you until the very moment of his departure. So naturally you were mad at him, while being happy to see him at the same time.

"Good morning to you too Thoma" you looked at him, more glared almost like you wanted to tell him that he should've come to greet you earlier and that you were still mad about what he had hidden from you. He of course immediately caught on.

"I'm not sure how many times must I apologize to you miss, but I only wish for you to understand that-"

"Yes, I'm aware that grandfather had arranged it" you cut him off, as you heard this explanation before on more than one occasion. You definitely could see that villain plot something just to inconvenience you- but that's just how your grandfather was. Always ready to make your life ever so harder.

"I'm quite flattered that you missed me so much, but can we please move past it?" of course he was right about you missing him but all you could say was "It's not about me missing or not missing you, it's how you abandoned your duties without notice" although your words were harsh Thoma could see right through you, he always did but he didn't have a habit of arguing with you about your intentions "I see, in that case I stand corrected" although his smile was polite you could feel the smugness behind it. Almost like he was saying "we both know you're lying" but not in a very malicious way.

He knew that you felt hurt, betrayed even but there was nothing he could do when it was your grandfather's orders. It would be nice if someone took your feelings over orders though “No matter what my reasons are, I’m sure you agree that you ought to make it up to me” you said as your mood got a little brighter.

"Naturally, I don't intend to leave like that again so it shouldn't be a problem" he affirmed before continuing "We should get moving now, you wouldn't want to be late now would you?" there was no room for a disagreement from you so the two of you left your family estate.

-

After getting in the car there was only silence. The atmosphere wasn't tense at all, yet you felt like something big was going to happen today. Thoma had avoided your gaze which made you wonder if he wasn't hiding anything from you again. Last time when he had that trip planned he also tried to avoid looking at you, so you became a little suspicious "Thoma?" you got his attention "Yes my lady?"

"Do we have anything scheduled for today? I was hoping to go out with Ayaka" you knew asking directly was pointless but you made sure to emphasize "we", it was so he knew that you planned to take him with you like any other time.

"I'm afraid today won't work, master L/N wanted to speak with you today. My apologies for not mentioning it sooner, but I thought it'd save you some stress while at school" he sighed as you knew that he felt bad for you. You froze in place as you thought about having to deal with that old man "Do you have any idea what that might be about?" you asked, trying to hide your distaste "I do, but I was asked to not mention it to you" he said equally disappointed. Of course nobody had to know if he told you right here and there, but knowing what he knew he definitely didn't want to be the one to break it to you.

You sighed and before you knew it you were at the academy. It was an all girls school, where everyone comes from rich and influential families. You politely exchanged greetings to each girl you've passed. You didn't know them all but you knew better than to ignore them.

"Good morning Y/N" finally you were greeted by a familiar face "Good morning to you too Ayaka"

"You seem worried, is something on your mind?"

"I'll have to wonder all day what my grandfather is plotting" you sighed heavily. To give you some comfort Ayaka placed her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure you'll be alright. I don't think there's anything he can say that you can't handle"

"Let's just hope you're right…" it's not that you had no faith in yourself. It's more that it's him you're dealing with.

"You know, your grandfather isn't such a villain. From the times I've spoken to him nothing seems to make him out half as evil as you make him out to be" you heard that from more than one person whenever they know what you think of him. You thought if anyone- Ayaka would be different.

"Perhaps because he meets levels of basic decency with guests?" it was but a common sense to not disrespect members of the Kamisato family.

"How about Thoma? How does your grandfather treat him?" she asked, but she looked like she already knew the answer.

You on the other hand weren't exactly sure "You'd have to ask him yourself" to Ayaka you aren't a perfect liar, so she'd easily see through all of that. So making up an answer wouldn't do you any good.

"Well, at least they have one in common" she smiled and all you could do is look at her confused.

"And what could that be? How can a rude old man be compared to someone like Thoma?"

"Both of them certainly care much about your well being. You may not believe it but each time I chat with your grandfather he'd talk about you. And not in a way you'd assume"

"Oh really? I'd have to hear it to believe it"

"Of course he has a habit of throwing the word ''foolish'' pretty often. But besides that little detail I think anyone can agree that he doesn't mean any harm to you. Honestly I envy how casually you can speak to him"

"I wouldn't call arguments ''casual speech''"

"I suppose we just have different view on the matter" she looks away and when things were getting a little awkward she said "Regardless, I think you shouldn't worry so much about what he has to say"

-

You stood up to each challenge the universe had in stock for you for today. It allowed you to feel more confident about today's meeting. But as the day wasn't over so were your challenges.

There was a big commotion outside "What's going on over there?" you wondered "I have no idea" Ayaka looked just as confused as you "Nobody does. All we know is that there are four women by the gate, they all look so classy! I wonder what they are looking for" a student joined your conversation.

No matter what their business was, you had to go back home so you went towards the gate. You saw the ladies and they seem to have their eyes on you. When you were close enough to approach they all blocked your path. Before you could ask them what's going on they all took out roses and all of them said "Marry me" at the same time.

"Did you hear that?" "Did they say marry?" "I didn't know L/N had such tastes…" and other whispers could be heard from the students who all watched the situation unfold.

You didn't know what to say- but then again you weren't proposed to a bunch of gorgeous women on a daily basis. After taking a moment you were able to respond "Is this some kind of a joke… or a uh… misunderstanding maybe? Surely you all didn't just propose to me" you tried to be as calm as you could get.

"My, my the old guy was right- your reaction would be priceless indeed" one of them said, she had light pink hair the rose she was holding had almost the same color.

"To think you'd be so cold about the rejection, I can't let that slide. I'll have my vengeance" the one that had threatened you had beautiful golden eyes the rose she held was a strong shade of red.

"Although I should feel relieved at my rival dropping her chances this early, I insist that you'll stop yourself from making such threats miss Eula" another one spoke up. She was dressed the most formally among the group and her rose was white and elegant much like herself.

"You're making a scene here, the poor girl must be so confused" the last one finally spoke. She had a mysterious aura around her much like a dark purple rose she was holding. Although it was nice that she took your feelings into consideration you still had no idea what was happening.

You looked around trying to notice some hidden cameras or something that'd indicate that what's happening to you is just some sick joke. Or at least you were hoping to see Thoma- who could get you out of here.

“What are you looking for? If you think it’s some prank you’re mistaken my dear, everything you see here is very much real” the first one spoke up again. Her speaking so bluntly helped you adjust to the reality, you definitely can handle such forward strangers “May I ask who are you ladies exactly? Could you please tell me how you know me and what’s the meaning behind your sudden proposal? Do you even have permission to be here in the first place?” you said as you were surprised nobody reacted to strangers blocking the gate without any problems from the security.

"Alright then let's start with a simple introduction" the woman who earlier tried to put herself in your shoes spoke but before anyone could follow that you heard "I believe that won't be necessary" turning around you saw Thoma who continued "There will be plenty of time for that later. Miss Y/N, we must get going" he turned to the women "As for you, we'll meet at our arranged spot" he definitely knew what was going on. But before you made yourself into any bigger fool you waited until you got into a car.

"Before you lash out on me I told Master that it was a terrible idea" he said equally as annoyed as you were "I can't believe it! He really went through that knowing how you'd react" that was surprising, you don't usually see Thoma snap like this. He cleared his throat "But I suppose he'll explain everything to you once we get back to the estate" with that you stayed quiet. You were just speechless. Not only because of what happened but also because of how Thoma handled it. You don't remember seeing him this angry before.

-

Upon your arrival the silence still wasn't broken. You went ahead to meet with your grandfather, with each step you knew that whatever he had planned you're not going to like what you're about to hear.

"Y/N it's been a while" he said almost like he was proud of his little plan.

"It wasn't long enough" you said coldly.

"Haha! Wanted more time to miss me?"

"Indeed I did, perhaps that way I'd be able to forget how exhausting it is to talk to you" although it's annoying sometimes talking to your grandfather has proven to be a good practice for when someone tries to get on your nerves, at least it's easier to react without losing yourself.

But your sarcastic attacks have ended and with it silence filled the room. You felt tense and you had waited for him to explain himself but losing your temper and focus now will only lead to his victory. You can't possibly allow that "Well then, what was the reason for you to see me?"

"Didn't you figure it out already? I want you to tell me what do you think of the four women I chose for you" blunt as always. He always has to hit you with such a lack of tact. His voice was impatient but you were only surprised to hear that he was the one who chose your suitors.

"Excuse me…?" you panicked as you connected the dots. He knew. He knew without you ever telling him.

"I trust they were all to your liking? I'm sure you at least agree that they are beautiful indeed" his smug smile knew no bounds.

"Just wait a moment! What was the reason for you choosing women as my possible marriage candidates!?" this definitely was a joke on his part, a way to taunt you. Perhaps he set that up as a reminder that he had chosen for you and you had no say in the matter, you were only allowed a choice. The first wave was just a prank and the actual candidates might be some guys. That must be it!

"Did I read the signs wrong? Do you want me to match you with men instead?" this threw your possible theory out of the window.

"Yes!... I mean… not exactly… Just think what scandals might arise from that!" although you were happy about not being matched with men, you were still bothered by the entire situation so maybe if you bring it up it'll save you some time. That way you may be able to find someone on your own.

"Oh please we're not in the times where such things matter anymore. I thought I was supposed to be the old fashioned one" the way he said it made your blood boil. He never could take your concerns seriously now could he?

"Alright, I see your point… how long did you know?" you wanted to know how obvious you were. Perhaps he was more observant and caring than you thought. After all, he did you a huge favor by finding those ladies.

"I'd say quite a lot. I thought I was doing you a favor by sending you to an all girls school, but of course you'd miss an occasion like that. You could find yourself quite a bride but since you took your sweet time I had to step in" to say it made you mad is saying little.

"What do you mean by that? WHO asked something like that of you!? I certainly didn't. It's far too early for me!" you lost it. Everything felt so scary since your future is about to be decided at this very moment. All your grandfather did was sigh "I thought you already were aware that for you finding a suitable spouse is important"

"I do but I believe I have the right to make that choice on my own at my own time!" at least that's what you were told.

"And how would you go about it? By refusing to speak to anyone who isn't a business associate like you always do?" although you didn't want to agree, he was right about your total lack of social skills. As you didn't respond to his question he continued "Look, you don't have to make this choice right now. You'll have plenty of time to get accustomed to them and you can have a lot of time before you come to your final choice. Not only that if you wish to have someone else as your possible suitor just say the word and it'll be arranged" he sounded much less condescending now but after that he stood up to leave "Whatever you do the choice is yours to make"

You stayed in the room in silence, thinking over everything you discussed. Your train of thought however was stopped by Thoma who just entered “So… How did it go?” he was awfully casual but you didn’t mind it at that moment. You needed that, honestly if he asked you in some trained butler way or whatever you'd honestly lose it "You can probably imagine… not very well. I need to rest" you just wanted to go to your room and let this day be over with just so you could think it through. But you'd seen the awkward look on his face and you knew that you won't be done with today's disappointments “I’m afraid the surprises aren’t over yet for you my lady, from this day forward you won’t be living here”

"... What?" you weren't ready for something like that. You didn't even have the energy to say anything more.

"A vacation home is prepared where you'll live with the suitors" with that you recall him mentioning arranged spot. It made you realize that perhaps you knew all along what will happen next but you were just hoping to deny it…

-

You stood in front of a vacation home. Still in shock you had no clue what to say, you weren't here before so Thoma started to tell you about it. He sounded like he wanted to calm you down "The building has three floors. The first one is a common area, second is your suitors' rooms, where the third floor can only be accessed by us" it didn't help much but knowing you'll have some privacy was making the situation from totally unbearable to slightly less totally unbearable "I know it's tough but you must understand that escaping reality will not solve the issue"

"I know that… it's just…" you were too frustrated to find the words.

"If anything happens you know you can talk to me. I'll make sure you'll feel safe so should any of those women try anything I'll see to it that they'll be gone" he reassured you "Now, follow me" inviting you to follow him was like a gentle push into the unknown, then again you won't be alone at any point. So taking a deep breath you go inside.

"Before… uhm… I go to them… can I at least go to my room and change?" you found excuse with your uniform. Thoma smiled at you but before he said anything you heard footsteps.

"Greetings, I heard the door open so I thought it'd be nice to say hi" the girl standing in front of you had dark hair, if you remember correctly it was the one holding the purple rose. Regardless you were still a little stressed "Seems I had a bad timing… sorry about that. I'll let the others know and we'll wait for you okay?" she waited for your response but all you could do was nod. It seems like she didn't need anything more. After she left you asked Thoma to show you to your room where you got ready to see your suitors.

-

"Look who's finally here" the woman with pink hair said with a teasing voice.

"It took a while but it sure was worth the wait. After all seeing such a gem is a treat" although all of the ladies changed that one still remained in rather elegant and formal clothing.

"At least you didn't run away this time" the one who had threatened you before seemed annoyed. But such remarks made you feel the same. It wasn't that you ran away, you were forced to leave! But who is she to judge you anyways?

"It's good to see you aren't as nervous" the one who greeted you by the door smiled but her bringing that up caused the first lady to giggle "Oh that wasn't fair how you got to get to greet Y/N in our place. I definitely would love to see the look on her face now that you mention it"

"What can I say, I was the first one to get there on time"

"It was more that you left without any of us noticing" it seemed like an argument was going to burst out at any moment.

"Let's get to introductions, shall we?" Thoma finally spoke up.

"I'm Eula, you better not forget it" she didn't waste a moment to introduce herself. Considering her behavior towards you so far you wonder what she is doing here in the first place.

"Miko, but soon you'll get the privilege to call me your wife" you finally had a name to connect to that smug smile she displayed so far. She could see that her remark wasn't exactly serious but you could tell that she was here to "win".

"My name is Ningguang. I hope our odd circumstances won't make it hard for you to talk to me" she, just like Miko looked like she was here to "win" but her behavior towards you was different. She was less cocky but not any less confident.

"You can call me Yelan, you'll have to wait to learn more about me later though" from the four she seemed the most concerned about your situation. At the same time she wasn't open about herself at all. Perhaps it was a strategy for you to get interested in her.

But listening to all those introductions it felt awfully weird how all of them were so casual about the whole situation. They also seemed rather close even though they aren't living together for long.

"I hope you don't mind me asking but have you always been friends?"

"Not at all, but after living for a month you could say we got close. Still having Thoma around did make things easier" Yelan said and you immediately glared at Thoma.

"So you lied to me after all!" you didn't take even a second to call him out.

"I'm truly sorry but I couldn't-!"

"Now dear, no need to start an argument here. I'm sure you can tell he had no choice in the matter" Miko was right. But it didn't take away your shock- yet she continued "Let's just calm down okay? I know you're confused but all of us need to adjust to the situation. Of course our circumstances aren't the same but I say we make the best of it"

"Exactly, I'm sure you will pleasantly surprised once you get to know us" Yelan added

"If any of them will be too pushy I'll make sure to kick them out for you" Eula said, although Thoma said just the same thing earlier.

"The only person being pushy right now is you. Give her a breathing room, would you?" although Ningguang was talking to Eula, she was looking at you.

Now that you think of it all of them are looking at you. Perhaps they think that what they've said gained them some points in some made up game where you react positively to their words. You just stood there dazed as you realized that you are now but a prize to be won by these women.

-

After that conversation you went back to your room. Your brain jumps from one topic to another. You never felt this lost. You looked at your phone and remembered that there is one person you can rely on right now. Unlike Thoma, Ayaka won't have any classified information and she surely will listen to you. As you were about to call her you heard a knock on your door "My lady?" the only one who could be there was Thoma. You were still mad at him and you thought it'd be a good time to ignore him. Either that or you'd give him a piece of your mind. After all, your previous argument was cut short. So after thinking of the pros and cons of letting him in- you open the door.

Of course knowing him he didn't come empty handed, he had a tray with tea and your favorite snacks. With an apologetic smile you knew he was trying, but he needed to try more than that to make you forgive him.

"Don't I deserve an explanation first? Or do you take me as some sort of child who will trade her forgiveness for just a bunch of sweets?" you cross your arms. As you stared at him though you felt a little guilty for being so harsh on him.

"Are you really that mad at me…?" he was hurt, but so were you.

"Do you think I have no reason to?" you knew he didn't think that. But by underestimating how betrayed you felt he deserved your cold treatment.

"We both know I'd be lying if I said no…"

"So, are you going to make any excuses?"

"Well, Miss Yae was correct when she said I had no say in the matter. As a mere butler I can't do a lot"

"I know that" it was the truth after all. Perhaps you got used to Thoma always putting you first so much that when he took your grandfather's orders over your feelings you felt surprised. Even though it was normal and very much expected of him as a butler of L/N family… but not expected as your ally "Couldn't you at least warn me? Or not so subtly hint at what's going to happen?"

"I really wanted to, but if I did then they'd fire me" he said it so calmly, it made it clear that to him that choice wasn't hard at all "I wasn't even the one who had to come up with the excuses, but I must admit that today I had to improvise a little. Which didn't let me feel any less guilty I'll have you know" he sighed "But when they threatened my ability to work with you I knew there was no other option"

"To think they'd go that far…" and all that for what? A moment of surprise? Or perhaps there were many reasons you yet have to discover. Suddenly your anger went away from him and went towards your family who'd arrange such a thing.

"No matter what my situation was, what I did harmed you. So as a friend I want to apologize" you really liked the sound of that. After so many years you'd feel odd if your relationship had only the professional side of things. Still, such a statement out of nowhere caught you off guard.

"Uhm… As a friend, I accept your apology" you paused "But now that you don't have to hide anything anymore… care to tell me why now I was assigned suitors?"

"It definitely wasn't out of nowhere if that's what you're thinking. Recently a lot of men showed interest in you. The amount of letters only grew with each month over the past year. Usually what you got to see was filtered to say the least"

"I see, but I still don't understand why that should mean that I'll have suitors arranged right away"

"You see… uh how should I put this… It's more about pressure coming from your extended family"

"Oh. So that's why huh?" of course your "lovely" relatives are behind such a thing.

"That's right, I don't think it's in my place to mention it but they said they rather proceed with caution when it comes to leaving you to your own"

"I see, so they're just doing everything they can to make sure I can't elope" it wasn't unimaginable for them to think you'd do that. But it was your father who didn't accept his fate as an heir. You on the other hand were aware of what you're getting yourself into since day one "It's a shame that they still don't trust me. I know what my duties are"

"It's not all of them who think so I'll have you know, just a loud bunch who insisted on it" he sighed "But they were loud enough for Master to do something about it"

"... Wait! Doesn't that mean…" if these ladies were accepted by both your relatives and grandfather then surely they'd be qualified enough. Most certainly they had some character so you wouldn't be surprised to learn that they're high class "Hm… I should've guessed that highly born women would be slightly different from my previous possible suitors. I'll have to make sure to treat them well"

"Oh…" he suddenly looked nervous and avoided eye contact.

"Thoma… what is it?"

"It's a bit hard to describe-"

"Thoma. You weren't supposed to hide things regarding my suitors anymore"

"I think it's better if you see it for yourself, give me a moment. I'll be right back" this definitely didn't sound good. You waited for Thoma to come back and in the meantime you became increasingly nervous. When he knocked again at your door you opened it right away.

"These are their background reports…"

Hesitantly you took the documents. Confused as to why it'd be a problem you started looking through them. You couldn't believe what you were reading. This is either some kind of joke or maybe wrong documents perhaps?

"Thoma… these background reports…"

"Are true…"

"Just hold on it can't be! If that old man wanted to play a sick joke on me, this is the time you tell me so!"

"That's not it my lady"

You felt like you were about to lose it, you looked at the documents again. You read them through but there is one thing that caught your eye in each one.

"Yae Miko, age 24…kept woman" the last thing you wanted is to be matched with someone whose job is to get taken care of. But perhaps she has something else going for her.

"Ningguang, age 22… Can't keep a job?" you have no idea if it means she's continuously getting fired or is she dropping out "She's unemployed?"

"All of them are…" you could hear that he felt bad for you.

"Great" you said sarcastically.

"Yelan, age 23…Gambler" ah yes because there is nothing better but a gambler in a rich family.

"Eula, age 20…Disowned by the Lawrence family" Although she was the closest to your age not only was she associated with that family she got disowned by them probably for a reason.

"How can this all be!?"

"Calm down Y/N-"

"Don't you dare to tell me to calm down! This is unthinkable, unimaginable! I don't even know what else to say to that" you were losing it, but it's not like Thoma chose your suitors so you realized taking it out on him won't do any good "Sorry, I just need to be alone right now. I need to think this through"

"Of course… but if you need me just say the word" he left the room without saying anything else.

It was a true nightmare. You had no idea why fate had such a thing for you prepared. And more importantly… WHY your suitors were some random women who definitely didn't have the qualifications to be involved with your family!? They were just looking for an easy life... This definitely wasn't how you imagined your marriage to be arranged.

... To be continued...