#but his REAL answer was 'why am i answering the door in the first place?'

[winxanity-ii]

IN THE SILENCE

ship: inumaki x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.6k a/n: not me beefing with my sis and making comfort fics as a destressor

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You couldn't breathe in that dorm room. Not with the way Jiro's words echoed in your mind like a twisted symphony of your worst fears. "You're overreacting, Y/N. It's not that big of a deal." Her voice had been sharp, cutting through your defenses like a blade.

It left you feeling raw, like your skin had been stripped away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

So, you did the only thing you could think of—you stormed out, slamming the door behind you with a force that made the walls tremble. You didn't care who heard. Let them.

You needed air, space, something that didn't have her name written all over it.

The night air was cool against your heated skin as you wandered the campus grounds, aimlessly walking with no destination in mind. You just needed to move, to put as much distance between yourself and Jiro as possible.

Each step was a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating fog of doubt she’d wrapped around you.

Was she right? Were you just overreacting?

A part of you—a small, insistent voice at the back of your mind—whispered that maybe she was. Maybe you were just being sensitive, blowing things out of proportion. But another part of you, the part that had walked out of that room, screamed that she was wrong. That you were justified in your feelings.

But which one was real?

You stopped walking, realizing you'd reached the fountain in the center of campus. Its gentle splashing was almost hypnotic, the water sparkling under the soft glow of the nearby lampposts.

You took a seat on the edge, your legs feeling like they couldn't support you anymore.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring into the rippling water, trying to find some sort of clarity in the chaos of your thoughts.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, followed by a soft sniffle. You quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, frustrated that you were even crying in the first place. "Why am I like this?" you muttered to yourself, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a question you'd asked yourself a thousand times before, and you still didn’t have an answer.

You tilted your head back, looking up at the sky. The night was clear, stars scattered across the inky blackness like diamonds. It was beautiful, but it didn’t bring you the peace you were hoping for.

Instead, it made you feel small, insignificant. Like your problems were nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. But that didn't make them hurt any less.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

A young man was sitting beside you, his presence somehow calm, almost comforting. He wore black sweats and a matching hoodie, the hood pushed down to reveal tousled, silver hair that caught the faint light from the lamppost nearby.

His face was partially obscured by a black mask that covered his mouth, but his eyes were clear, a soft lavender shade that seemed to shimmer under the night sky. They were soft, kind, with a hint of curiosity as he looked at you.

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by his sudden appearance. He didn't say anything, just gave you a small nod, as if acknowledging your presence but not wanting to intrude.

You looked away, back at the sky, feeling oddly self-conscious now that someone else was here.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of the fountain.

You wiped at your eyes again, trying to get rid of any evidence of your tears. The last thing you needed was a stranger seeing you like this. But you could still feel his eyes on you, not judging, just...observing.

It was like he was waiting, but you didn't know for what.

You took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs, and let it out slowly.

The silence between you felt heavy, almost tangible, but not uncomfortable. It was like he was giving you the space you needed, but also letting you know that you weren't alone.

And somehow, that made you feel a little better.

The silence stretched on for several minutes, neither of you saying a word. It was almost surreal, sitting next to a stranger and finding comfort in the quiet presence of someone you didn't know.

But there was something grounding about it, like his calm was seeping into your chaos, soothing the turmoil you'd been drowning in all evening.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He hadn't moved, just sat there, looking up at the sky as if he were admiring the stars.

There was something about his stillness that made you feel like it was okay to just be. To not have to put on a brave face or force yourself to keep it together.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he turned towards you. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sticky note pad and a pen. You watched as he quickly scribbled something down, his handwriting neat and precise, before peeling the note off and holding it out to you.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest second. Your eyes skimmed over the words, and you felt something inside you twist painfully.

You okay?

It was such a simple question, but it shattered the fragile control you’d been holding onto. You stared at the note, the tears you’d fought so hard to keep at bay filling your eyes once more. You shook your head, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you all over again.

"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Then, before you knew it, the words started pouring out of you in a rush, as if his silent support had unlocked something inside you. "I don't know. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm just… crazy or something."

You glanced at him, but he just looked back, his eyes soft, urging you to continue. So you did.

"In the past, I've always been told I was blunt or cold, you know? Like I didn't care about anyone's feelings. And yeah, I was like that, but I didn't know any better. I thought being honest meant being straightforward, even if it hurt people." You took a shaky breath, the words spilling out faster now, almost tripping over themselves. "But then I realized, I realized that my actions, my words—they affect people. So I worked on it. I tried to change, to be more empathetic, more understanding. And it was hard, but I did it. I really thought I did."

You felt the tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily, frustrated with yourself for being so emotional. "But now... it's like... like it doesn't even matter. It's like karma or something, having to deal with someone like her. One moment, she's my best friend, and the next, it's like she hates me. She says I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, and maybe I am. But it just… it hurts, you know?"

You looked away, staring at the fountain again, the words still tumbling out. "It's like I can't win. No matter what I do, it's not enough. I try to be better, to do better, but it's like she's always there to remind me that I'm not. And I know she's my friend, but it feels like I'm dorming with a stranger. Someone who knows exactly how to push my buttons and make me feel like I'm the one who's messed up. Maybe I am messed up."

Your shoulders shook as you let out a bitter laugh, more tears streaming down your face. You didn't even try to stop them this time. "Maybe she's right, and I'm just crazy, just some messed-up person who doesn't deserve to be happy. I don't know."

You ran a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," you muttered, wiping at your eyes again. "You don't need to hear all this. You probably think I'm a mess."

But the figure didn't move, didn't look away. He just sat there, his eyes never leaving you, listening to every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn't judge or try to tell you that you were wrong or right. He just let you talk, let you spill out all the things you'd been holding in for so long.

By the time you finished, you felt like you'd run a marathon. But there was also a strange sense of relief, like a million bricks had been lifted off your shoulders.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, maybe even months.

He reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small packet of tissues. He took one out and handed it to you silently, his eyes still on you, filled with understanding. You took it, your fingers brushing against his again, and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," as you dabbed at your eyes, trying to clean up the mess you’d made of your face.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was back, but it was different now. It wasn't heavy or suffocating. This time it felt warm, almost like a soft blanket wrapping around your shoulders, comforting and safe.

You weren't sure what to say, or if you even needed to say anything at all. The tears had stopped, and with them, some of the ache in your chest had faded too.

You glanced at him again, wanting to express your gratitude, even though words felt inadequate for what he'd just given you—space to be yourself, without judgment.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but sincere. "For… listening. I really needed that."

He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, then reached for his sticky note pad again. It took him only a moment to jot something down before he peeled the note off and handed it to you.

No big deal.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, the corners of your lips lifting as you read his message. It was so simple, yet it made your heart swell in your chest.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were kind, crinkling slightly at the edges as if he were smiling behind his mask. There was a warmth in them that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You stood up, feeling a little steadier on your feet now. The cool night air brushed against your skin, the fountain's gentle splashing filling the silence.

He stood up as well, and you found yourself looking up at him—way up.

You hadn't realized it before, but he was tall, much taller than you. You barely reached under his chin, your nose almost brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie as you straightened.

Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the small detail, feeling oddly self-conscious about the height difference. You took a step back, clearing your throat, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. But before you could speak, he raised a hand slowly, hesitantly.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched his movements with wide eyes.

His hand hovered above your head for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to go through with it.

Then, ever so gently, he placed his hand on top of your head, his touch light and careful, like he was afraid you might break if he applied too much pressure. He gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing against your hair before pulling away.

A harsh blush filled your face, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You stared up at him, stunned, your heart skipping a beat.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the campus at night, unable to see his face, yet feeling like he'd just done something incredibly intimate.

It was such a small gesture, but it felt like it meant everything.

You didn't know what to say, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He just watched you, his eyes crinkling again with that invisible smile. There was a softness to his gaze, a gentleness that made your heart flutter in a way that was both confusing and strangely comforting.

"I—um, thank you," you stammered, your voice barely more than a whisper. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not when his eyes were so warm, so steady. "For everything."

He just nodded, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent laugh, as if he found your flustered state amusing. He scribbled something quickly on his notepad and held it out to you.

You're welcome.

You took the note, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the words. They were simple, straightforward, but there was something about them that made your chest feel tight, like your heart was too big for your ribs to contain. You swallowed hard, looking up at him again.

"I—well, I should go," you said, your voice awkward and unsure. You took a step back, then another, your eyes still locked on his. He didn't move, just watched you with that same quiet expression, his eyes soft and unreadable. "I—um, goodnight."

You turned, your heart racing as you started to walk away, the cool night air feeling like a welcome balm against your flushed skin. You could still feel the warmth of his hand on your head, the gentle pressure lingering like a ghost of a touch.

You glanced back over your shoulder, unable to help yourself.

He was still standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, watching you with those steady, kind eyes. He lifted a hand in a small wave, his fingers curling in a silent goodbye.

You waved back, a shy smile tugging at your lips, before turning away again and heading towards your dorm.

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, your heart still fluttering like a trapped bird in your chest. You didn't even know his name, didn't know anything about him, but there was something about him that felt… different.

Like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay. Like maybe you weren't alone after all.

As you reached your dorm, you glanced down at the sticky notes in your hand, the words blurring slightly as tears filled your eyes again. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of something else, something warmer, softer.

Hope, maybe.

You smiled, a real smile, as you tucked the notes carefully into your pocket. Maybe tonight had been terrible, but it had ended with something good. Something unexpected.

And as you climbed the stairs to your room, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

And that thought, more than anything, made you feel like things might just turn out okay after all.

A/N: ignore me y'all, im on my period and in my feelings at the moment, just a little senstive. 😭 (p.s tell me why my sister and i made up by the time i finished writing this 💀)

[soullistrations]

me: okay, so it's a sunday afternoon. you're not expecting visitors. you hear a knock at the door. you go open the door--

my partner: no i don't

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[insertdisc5]

✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

[hellvcifer]

ANGEL SUPPORT SERVICES— ଘ part 2┆part 1

pairing :: lucifer x fem!angel!reader, slight adam x fem!angel!reader wc :: 5.1k note :: I did not realize this was gonna be over 5k... BUT !! thank you for the love and support on part 1 !! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა warnings :: canon typical language

ONE YEAR AGO

“If it isn’t the sweetest ASS in all of Heaven.” A familiar voice rang out, the breeze of flapping wings flushed around you before someone landed on the balcony of your office. “Sup hot stuff.”

“Adam, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You shuffled through some more papers, not even looking at him.

He strutted closer, placing a drink next to you on one of your filing cabinets. “Woah, what’s got your titties in a twist.” 

“The meeting we have with Hell in an hour.” You huffed. “I still have to drop the paperwork off at headquarters and then run a file, that I can’t seem to find, to Analytics before then.”

“Oh, yeah. What a bitch.” He slurped his drink through the straw of his own cup.

Your eyes narrowed at him, tilting your head upward. “You’re the one that got it assigned to me in the first place.” You spoke flatley.

He gulped the liquid down before laughing. “Shit! Did I? Can’t say I never do nothing for you.” He stretched, releasing a heavy exhale in relief. “What do you say after we deal with these cunts downstairs, we meet up after. Take a load off. Chillaxe.” 

“And why would we do that?” You had already turned back to the files you were going through, doing your best to pay him no mind.

“Uh, because I fucking rock.” He threw up the notorious sign with his empty hand. You had finally found the papers you were looking for before registering his words.

You paused. “Are you…” Straightening your posture, you turned towards Adam seeing him stare down at you. His eyes were wide, as if he was nervously awaiting your answer. “Are you asking me out?” 

“HA! Your words, not mine, Babe.” His demeanor switched quickly. You rolled your eyes, closing the filing cabinet before walking out of your office. He tensed, grabbing the extra drink he got and going after you. “Damn, calm down! Okay, if I were asking you out, you’d totally say yes then, right?”

You turned towards Adam. “Oh, yeah~ Sure!” A smile graced your lips though nothing about it was real as your face immediately fell. “If you were asking me out.” You pointedly spoke before facing forward again.

“Okay, then I’m asking you out.” His words made you freeze, eyes widening. 

“What?” You swiveled to stare at him, now realizing he wasn’t joking. “Why?”

“Cuz you’re hot as shit.” He said instantly. “And so am I. Come on, who wouldn’t want to get it on with the original dick, am I right?” He laughed loudly before calming once again. “I’m so right.”

“Right…” You began walking once more, him following quickly though he did his best to do so indifferently. You stopped in front of the elevator before hitting the button to call for it.

“So, what d’you say hot tits, you down?” He held out the extra drink for you, shaking it as an offering. You stared at it wearily before slowly taking it. To be honest, you never really thought Adam would ever ask you out. Not to mention, he's the ultimate dickmaster that you can’t stand ninety percent of the time. It wouldn’t hurt to actually go on a date considering it's been… A while, since you had done so. As much as you could just say ‘Fuck it,’ and agree to it, there’s one rule you can’t seem to put behind you, even for the first man. 

A loud ding drew your attention, the doors opening in front of you. Adam was nearly bursting, impatiently awaiting your response as he stared down at you. 

“I uh… I don’t date coworkers.” You stepped into the elevator and turned, cautiously looking up at him. His brows dipped, eyes filled with shock at your answer, crossed with a glitching phase of his mask. It all soon changed to anger.

“Yeah, whatever, bitch!” He flipped you off, in between the gap of the closing doors. “Didn’t want to tap that uptight ass anyways.” 

His response wasn’t a surprise, but that expression he had. It wasn’t like something you’d seen on him before. He was always confident, flying around Heaven with the biggest ego you’d ever seen. But just then, he’d seemed like your words had actually affected him. 

You mulled over it a moment before taking a deep breath and sipping from the drink in your hand. Your eyes widened when the flavors coated your tongue before swallowing. Your favorite drink from the cafe you frequented. You hummed with a soft smile before taking another sip. Maybe dating a coworker would be that terrible. 

After completing all of your tasks, you finally made your way back to the office. Thoughts fading back to your interaction with Adam before you left earlier. Had he really been into you in a way that was more than just putting you at the butt of a joke? Perhaps, he was just doing it to rile you up before the meeting with Hell. Speaking of…

You noted the time on the clock sitting on your desk, a fluttering feeling crawled across your stomach. Your eyes followed the slow moving line in its circling motion. Less than five minutes. Just a little longer. A smile broke onto your lips. How long has it been since you last saw him?

You sighed, arm bending to rest your cheek into your hand. You melted the weight into it. Over the past few years, he had been going through a lot but you slowly witnessed him overcoming the darkness he faced. He began making his dorky jokes and even flashing his devilish smile again.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“No one!” You jumped at the voice, glancing in the direction of it and seeing Emily standing in the entrance of your office. Her brows shot up at your reaction. “Em!” You cleared your throat. “Um, hi! I uh–” You grabbed some papers and straightened them, clacking the stack a few times on the surface. “I have my meeting downstairs soon.”

“Yes!” She waltzed in happily. “That’s actually why I’m here!” She now stood at the front of your desk. “I wanted to wish you luck! You always seem so busy around this time of the year, and somehow you always seem your happiest!” 

Your eyes widened. “Uh, I do?”

“Yeah. I just admire how much compassion you have for being one of Heaven’s main connections to Hell!” She grinned brightly.

“Oh, uh.” You turned away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, Em.” 

“You’ll tell me everything when you come back, right?”

You smiled at her. “Of course.” You stood, noting the time was seconds away. “We’ll do it over tea.”

She bounced happily, hands clapping together as she did. “Yay!”

You appeared in front of your desk at the Embassy, a certain blonde haired man was in front of you with a nervous smile. Immediately you returned it upon seeing him, your breath hitched before finally returning to speak one word. “Lucifer.” 

“Y/N.” He all but melted at the sound of his name, using his cane to hold his upper body weight before clearing his throat. “Uh, Hi. Hello. H-How are you?” He pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, another year gone. Though it’s always nice to see you again.” You brought out the sign-in scroll and feather pen. “It seems once a year really isn’t enough time for us to chat, don’t you think.”

“Y-Yeah. Ha ha! Agreed!” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the pen. His rose cheeks heated as he began signing his name. “You look…” He dotted the ‘I’ of his name. Glancing up to see you smiling down at him. Beautiful. He straightened up again. “G-Great!” 

You giggled. “You’re not half bad yourself.” The two items disappeared in a flash of gold petals. The door to your right opened. It was nearly routine at this point. His eyes flickered between it and you. 

“I’ll uh,” He pointed with his cane before glancing stiffly. “I’ll just uh, get going now.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” Your eyes never left his departing figure. The crisp white suit draped over his shoulders nicely. Hair flicking out from underneath his hat in a bouncy quaff with each step. You felt it again, the stir behind your navel. A shuddering breath filled your lungs before releasing once more. Just seeing him made coming down here worth it.

And although you observed him, you didn’t notice the very details that had the man nearly throwing up in the lobby. He was sweating, feeling drenched in it as he slowly took each step towards the conference room door. He could do this. He already talked himself up about it! He’s ready for this! 

He took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through his nose. His posture straightened and he nodded to himself. “Y/N!” He turned around, as he called your name, a bit louder than he meant to. You looked up. Eyes meeting and he nearly forgot what he was going to say. “Uh…” Okay he forgot everything he was going to say. “Um. Well,” He averted his stare, finding something else to reacquaint his thoughts with his mouth. “So, I know it's been awhile, and we’ve. Well what I mean is. You and I, together…” His eyes widened, “Not! Together! I just mean, we’ve met, and have for sometime now and it’d be nice to be together–” His hands frantically waved about trying to explain his point. “Not like that, I just mean, to sit down together and talk, but like um, maybe with some food, or like uh…” 

“Dinner?” You questioned, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. It felt like deciphering code.

“Yes!” A lightbulb went off in his head as he pointed at you, face filling with excitement. “Us and dinner!” He finally seemed to find his bearings. “Would you like to join me… For dinner?” Lucifer was nervous, sure, but he also spent way too much time talking to himself in the mirror, hyping himself up for this very moment, just to let it go by for a whole year again. 

You simply stared, mouth opening in shock. The fluttery feeling in your stomach from before crawled up into your throat as you replayed his words. He wants to have dinner? With you? You smiled, and brightly, too. He noticed and felt confidence surge through him. Why did this make you so happy? To eat dinner with the only person to make you feel like this. 

“I would love to!” To eat dinner with Lucifer… Lucifer. Your once joyful feeling began to fade away. What would he say… Smile faltering. A heavy liquid filling your lungs as you try to gulp it down. To find a clean breath for some sort of release. “I just…” You glanced away, seeing Lucifer’s expression begin to mimic your own. “I just don’t think… It could work.” You explained. “With me being up there and you… down here.” Your eyes stung, not meeting with him.

He felt a piercing clutch within his chest. Head downturned and eyes shut in defeat. “Right.”

─── ⋆⋅

“I don’t understand why it’s not working. Think Charlie, think! Think, think, think, think, think…” Charlie mumbled while pacing her thought-board. The residents of her hotel watched, each with their own expressions. Mostly worried, though Niffty seemed excited.

Angel stepped closer, “Yikes.” He held two of his hands up, the other two placed on his hips as he leaned forward. Husk was pouring a morning drink–if you could call whiskey that–into his mug as he watched the chaos unfold.

“We do trust falls every morning… We talked about our dreams and goals…” The mumbling from the princess continued. “Come on, come on, come on!” She moved another red string across the board.

“Charlie?” Vaggie spoke up. “Sweetie… You, uh, you good?”

Said girl turned, “Nope, no! Not really! Ha Ha!” Her eyes were noticeably red and veined and she shifted through some more of her papers. “I’ve been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working!” The last word was forced out with a little bit of irritation as she scrunched the paper she held. “We’ve done trust falls. We’ve tried sharing our feelings. We only have a couple months left before the angels come.” A maniacal laughter released from her, horns appearing briefly. “And at this rate–”

“Maybe it’s time–” 

“No!” Charlie cut her girlfriend off.

“–to ask–”

Charlie ran up to Vaggie, squishing the girl's cheeks. “Don’t! Say it!” Her eyes were viciously wide as she begged.

“–your dad.” The princess released a guttural groan, her head deflating along with her entire body at those words. “Charlie, I know you don’t want to, but we need every advantage we can get.”

“He let the extermination happen to begin with! They just had a meeting at the Embassy and said, ‘Go ahead and kill everyone!’” Charlie inhaled deeply, a gasp insinuated a brilliant idea entered her mind. She turned towards her thought-board. “That’s it!”

“Kill everyone?” Vaggie asked.

“No!” She turned back. “A meeting with Heaven!”

“Didn’t we already try that?”

“Well, yeah… With Adam. He was an ass~hole. But he isn’t in charge of all of Heaven. We could go to the top!” She pointed to the sky. “There’s sure to be some angels who will listen.” 

“And how do we do that?” Vaggie asked. 

“Well… I guess we could ask my dad…” Charlie whipped out her phone, scrolling through her contacts before reaching ‘Dad.’ She stared at it, finger hovering with hesitation.

“What’s the holdup?” Husk asked. “You got daddy issues?” He inquired, causing Vaggie to glare at him.

“No!” Charlie hid her phone. “We just… Have never been close.” She walked a few steps away, bringing her phone back out to stare at it. “After he and Mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls… Sometimes. But only if he’s bored or like, needs me to do something. It got better for a bit but this past year has been super bad. And weird.”

Husk smirked. “Daddy issues.” He muttered towards the others.

“Okay, well, if you can’t call the big dick in charge, then who?” Angel leaned over the back of the couch.

Charlie thought for a moment, recalling the Embassy, her meeting with Adam, and how it went horribly wrong and… You. You!

“That’s it!” She put her phone away, grabbing her jacket from the floor before putting it on. She began brushing her fingers through her messy hair, trying to flatten out the stray piece. 

“Woah! Woah, what?” Vaggie came closer and tried to calm her down while also helping to fix the blonde’s hair.

“The Embassy!” Charlie bounced in place. “We have to go to the Embassy! There’s someone I know who can help! Come on!” She grabbed Vaggie’s wrist and bolted out the doors and through the streets of the pride ring. 

With the pace Charlie set, dragging her girlfriend along, it didn’t take very long to arrive at the Embassy. The architecture of it stood out from all the other buildings in the city. Vaggie took one look at it and groaned to herself. The princess slammed the front door open and strutted inside, having let go of Vaggie. Her arms swayed confidently down the aisle, eyes set on a certain golden bell.

“Uh, Charlie?” Vaggie followed behind her hesitantly, glancing around. “There’s no one here.”

“Oh, there will be~!” Her eyes narrowed in on the shiny object before slapping the small knob on top. A familiar chime echoed throughout the place. The shining gold light appeared, flower petals and feathers fading into view and fluttering giggles became louder.

“So then I see her get spun out from the room, papers flying everywhere, and the all-knowing Dick is rifting his ass off like ee-oouh…” You opened your eyes finally, seeing as you weren’t lounging by the pool with your angel posse anymore. No, instead you were at the Embassy. You turn around to see a familiar someone, her face glaring at you as she stands with a strong posture. You sighed, putting on your best smile. “You know, when I said ‘Come again,’ I didn’t actually mean so soon.”

Charlie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She came looking for answers. And she was gonna get them! “Hi, Y/N. Nice to see you again.” She spoke flatley though she did her best to make it seem light and airy. You glanced past her and noticed another girl standing. She had long white hair, part of the framing pieces covered her left eye along with a pink eyepatch. Your brow rose, stare shifting above her head before connecting to her avoiding eye. “Oh, right!” The blonde’s demeanor changed as she displayed the woman with a big smile. “Vaggie, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Vaggie. Now that introductions are out of the way, we were wonder if you could–”

“Heaven doesn’t have any plans to meet for another three months.” You interrupted, looking down at your freshly done manicure. “All other inquiries must be brought up then.” You glanced up at her. “Bye-bye, now!” You waved with a wiggle of your fingers and went back to where you were, seeing the gold gates once more and walking towards them.

“Y/N?” Saint Peter voiced as he saw you walking towards the gate, “I didn’t know you were scheduled for a visit today?” He noticed your eye twitch.

“I wasn’t.” Once the gate fully opened, you went to take a step and you were in front of your desk again. Your widened eyes soon squinted at the culprit, seeing her hand still hovering over the bell.  

Her face was inquisitive, curious, looking from the bell to your appearance once more. You watched as she finally connected the dots to your summoning. She nervously laughed. “I just have a question and I re~ally need your help to answer it!” She spoke all too quickly as if you’d disappear before she could ask.

This girl was annoyingly determined, you’ll give her that. Unfortunately, ignoring it won’t make it go away. You crossed your arms. “You have ten seconds.” 

Her expression lit up with a smile, “Okay, so, I was wondering, and I didn’t really want to ask my dad, but I thought maybe you might know better anyways since you work so closely with Adam and might have some connections with anyone higher–”

“Five seconds.”

“Is there any way to arrange another meeting with Heaven?”

“What?”

“And not just, Adam-Heaven. I mean like Heaven-Heaven, you know?” Her hopeful eyes were large as she stared, awaiting. Like a small puppy.

“No.” You disappeared. Again.

“Charlie, let’s just go.” Vaggie tried to convince her girlfriend but the princess was not having it. She released a mighty breath before raising her hand and slamming it down on the bell. Fast, repeatedly. The constant chimes were endless.

You had barely caught a glimpse of Peter before being called back down. Arriving to the incessant rings of your bell. An obvious irk appeared as you watched the girl in front of you glare at the golden bell. Her eyes didn’t even raise to meet you, you just watched as her tongue poked out in concentration, her focus remained on her task. 

“Charlie…” Vaggie wearily called out.

“Enough!” Your hands shot forward, pressing down on hers and the bell all together, the ring dulled as you cupped the shell. 

The princess inhaled sharply, feeling your warm touch on her slightly colder hand. “You’re… Here?” She asked quietly, eyes glancing up to meet your irritated glare. “Like… like physically here! I thought angels didn’t come down here!” You rolled your eyes at her words before releasing her hand from your grasp and the bell.

You scoffed. “Of course I’m here.” You crossed your arms. “An angel must be physically present in Heaven’s Embassy at all times. Though we altered the rules slightly because, well, nothing happens down here.” You lightly laughed, shaking your head. “Could you imagine if we left this place unsupervised? Anyways!” You perked up once more. “As much as I would, just lo~ve to assist you, unfortunately there’s no possible way to request a meeting with heaven before the next one. How about you ask your father.” You narrowed your eyes on her.

“I can’t!” The irritation pierced through her tone. “He’s not… I just… He won’t bother with what I’m trying to do!” 

Her words caused your brows to crease. “Why? Is he…” You cleared your throat and turned your head away. “Is he okay?” Your eyes flickered to her. 

“I don’t– I mean, I guess?” She squinted at you. “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t!” You huffed, causing her and now Vaggie to stare at you in confusion. “Listen, I can’t help. See you in three months!” Gone. Once more. Not even taking the time to hear them out.

“Ugh!” Charlie’s hands came to her forehead, dragging down her entire face. “She’s not listening!”

“I told you. Angels won’t understand, we can’t trust them.” Vaggie tried to meet eyes with her. A comforting grip was welcomed on the princess’ shoulder. Charlie sighed, glancing down at the bell. Her hand rose, reaching out to ring it once more. 

“If she won’t listen…” She spoke softly, fingers getting closer. “Maybe she’ll understand once she sees it!” Her idea blossomed a new light within her eyes. Hand snatching the bell, careful to avoid the knob on top and dulling the sound of the shell before it could chime. 

Vaggie’s eyes widened, “Ch-Charlie!” She watched her girlfriend brush past her and book it towards the exit.

“Come on!” The blonde shouted, hands tucking the gold bell into her side as she bolted out the doors.

Vaggie ran after her, jaw slacked. “You–you can’t just take that!” Damn! When did her girl run so fast? “Charlie! Put it back!”

“It’s just for a second!” Of course the justification doesn’t make up for the fact that she is steali–borrowing! Definitely borrowing–the shiny angel bell of summoning. Exactly! She was just borrowing it! She’ll put it back! She just needed to show you exactly what she’s doing. She’ll do anything before having to call her father. Anything.

She bounded through the hotel doors, a bright and cheery smile on her face. The sound caused those in the lobby to snap their heads in her direction. She paid no mind as she ran towards her thought-board. 

“This’ll work! I just know this is gonna work!” She stepped happily side-to-side, clutching the bell preciously to her chest with both hands. “She’s gonna see everything we’ve done! And surely she’ll see it’s worth bringing it up to all her friends and even try to help us! This is perfect!” Niffty appeared, copying Charlie's bounce almost exactly with a huge grin on her face and giggling maniacally. 

“Charlie!” Vaggie yelled, out of breath and standing at the front doors. “Don’t you dare ring that–”

Ding~!

The same heavenly ring sounded upon impact, there was a pause as Charlie waited. The bell held poshly in her hands as her widened puppy eyes stared at it. 

The familiar flourish of glittering golds and fluttering flowers swirled, drawing the crowd into the warming glow. Angel and Sir Pencious creeped closer, awed expressions curiously enraptured by whatever Charlie had brought into the Hotel. 

Husk began pouring another glass of bourbon. “Here we go.” He said, pulling the drink up and gulping a sip down.

The princess sprung in place, watching as the feather cocoon unfurled to reveal none other than you. Your eyes were shut, expression invoking an unexplainable frustration as you released a sigh. “You really know how to ruffle an angel the wr–” Words fell off your lips as soon as your eyes opened, seeing the foreign walls surrounding you. “Where am I?”

You slowly peered at your environment, the dark crimson coated nearly everything in sight; the dingy carpet, the clawed wallpaper, the crusty couch. The gold accents were dull, completely opposite to what you would see upstairs. A bug crawled across the floor and a small… Demon? Ran after it while laughing.  You finally landed on those gawking at you. Three people stood behind the couch. A tall spider-looking fella, a cat-like one with wings, and one that resembled a snake. A lurking shadow loomed from the balcony atop of the stairs, watching. Waiting.

When you turned towards the agonizing pain in your side that seemed to dig further and further in, she was joyfully holding your bell in her hands, a grin presented guiltily. “I am sooo~ sorry but I just really needed you to see exactly what we were doing here an–”

“Stop!” You shouted at her, wings presenting themselves widely and at their highest peak. Your voice echoed with something powerful, something both heavenly and haunting all at once. It was silent for a moment, the cutting tone of your voice froze everyone in place. A seething breath escaped between your gritted teeth.

“Alright, is this what I think it is?” One of the people behind you with a thick accent asked as he shifted his weight onto one hip. He had no care in breaking the thick tension that hung in the air.

“Who iss thiss?” Another one asked, his S’s pulled out as he spoke, eyes flickering between you and Charlie.

“Heh heh.” The princess looked warily before she jumped forward, arms stretched out to present you. “Everyone, this is Y/N!” You simply squint your eyes at the blonde as she bounded about.  “Y/n this is Angel Dust and Sir Pentious. They’re guests at the hotel and undergoing the rehabilitation process!” She then walked over to the other two. “And this is Husk, and this is Niffty! They work here.” 

“Shiny!” The shorter one, Niffty, snatched the bell from Charlie’s hands. Her single pupil dilated as she stared at it. You snapped your fingers, the item disappearing into thin air. 

“Are you trying to piss Heaven off?” You glared at the princess. “Or just me.”

“No! No, no, no.” She stormed towards her thought-board. “I know this isn’t the best situation but if you please. Please! Just look and hear out what I’m doing. I just know you’ll understand.”

“How is Feathers over here supposed to help?” Angel asked, his eyes sizing you up with a tumb jutted out in your direction.

“Shee~e works for the Angel Support Services!” Charlie nervously chuckled, gauging everyone’s reaction. “In Heaven!”

“Angel Support Services?” The spider raised a brow, a set of hands on his hips while the other’s crossed in front of him. A laugh bubbled, “You’re tellin’ me you work for ASS ?” 

You groaned, hand sliding down your face. “Adam’s doing…” 

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, I know all~ about working for ass.” He smirked, wiggling his hips side-to-side to accent the word. “I just didn’t think Heaven got down and dirty like that.” 

“How the hell did you get an angel down here?” Husk's question was forcibly shocked, his tone spiking as did his brow.

“You heard it here first, folks!” Static surrounds your ears before coming to a dull buzz. A man clad in a red suit appeared from an inky shadow, cane in hand and an unnerving smile revealing his sharp canines. “Yes! An angel indeed, seen with my very eyes!” His hand shot out, snatching yours. “Name’s Alastor, a pleasure to mee–” The sizzle from your hand in his made him break the connection immediately, his eye twitched but grin never faltering, though it was now strained. He looked down at his hand, noting the obvious burn on his palm. His pupils slid to you. “Quite the bite you got there.” His voice altered slightly, muffle through his odd filter.

“Don’t. touch me.” You turned away from him. The sound of radio frequency slowly began growing louder until you snapped your head in his direction. It silenced immediately, his head tilting to the side and the smile never changed. It just grew. 

Charlie scooted herself into your vision, putting a buffer between you two. “This is Alastor!” She displayed him. “He manages the hotel.”

“Yes, I’ve always thought this little dream of Charlie’s was worthy of an investment.” He added, holding out his mic'd cane to the lobby.

You ignored him and stared at said girl, seeing her confidence fading, the cheery smiling now slipping the longer she tried to convince you. Perhaps this ‘little dream’ of hers wasn't bound to fail from the start. Was it pity? No… Something else. You took a moment, looking at her closely. It was her eyes. 

The same ones you got to see once a year.

You heaved put an exasperated breath, turning towards her thought-board. Eyes grazing over her various pages and drawings. The red strings connect certain areas in hopes of creating more brainstorming opportunities. “Friendship circle?” You read aloud. 

“Y-Yeah!” Charlie swerved past the couch to stand in front of you. “I-It’s where we all sit down in a circle and say something nice about one another. I came up with it.” She walked forward and pointed at a few more pieces of paper that were connected with pink string. “It’s to help recognize kindness within your friends and have compassion for others! And–” 

“Hey, uh Sweetie.” Vaggie walked forward, her hand setting on her girlfriend's shoulder as she cleared her throat. “Why don’t you ask about the meeting?” She whispered out the last bit.

“Right! The meeting!” Charlie looked at you, seeing your wings flutter as she spoke. You remained stagnant, eyes flickering across her pinned papers. “The reason we want to meet with Heaven before the one at the Embassy is because we need more time!”

You tilted her head at this, eyelids narrowing. “More time?” 

“If I can just get into Heaven to meet with someone higher than Adam before the next extermination, maybe, just maybe–”

“What?” Your neck nearly snapped with how fast you turned towards her.

 “–I can convince them to work together and–” Charlie clearly didn’t hear you as she continued, but you froze. The word repeats like a drum within your thoughts. You glanced back at her drawings. “Extermination…?” You whispered, eyes shaking as her voice slowly drowned to a muffle in the background. Your glazed over eyes focus on a drawing of a figure very similar to one particular man. The very first man. You felt your jaw clench at the sight. Adam.

likes and reblogs appreciated ₊˚⊹ ♡

tags :: @reinam00n @rebecca-hvnstn @sirenetheblogger @ems-emeralds @angelicwillows @lvstyangel @wobblesthewaffle @saintomie @certainlygay @ravenswritingroom @nanamunath

[cosmicpearlz]

fragile hearts

summary: two public figures that try to navigate their relationship with such hectic schedules. at some point, it was bound to come crashing down, right?

pairing: jude bellingham x singer!reader

valentine's day, cryin' in the hotel

i know you didn't mean to hurt me,

so i kept it to myself.

-

meeting jude had been a complete accident. you had a show in madrid, causing some of the players from real madrid to go. he happened to be one of them, along with vinicius, brahim and eduardo. naturally, you invited them backstage because you were a fan of the well-known football team. jude couldn't take his eyes off of you. memorized by the way you performed on stage. the confidence that flowed from you with every word you sang.

it's been a year since you first met. being boyfriend and girlfriend hasn't always been easy, because of the fact that you guys have to do long distance but you made it work.

"baby!" you yelled across the house, rushing to find jude. you found him sitting on the bed, watching tv. he looks up towards the door when you came running in.

"what's going on sunshine?" you jumped on him and hugged him tightly. jude chuckles, while wrapping his arms around you just as tight.

"i was just asked to perform in barcelona! they have a festival going on and want me to perform."

"that's amazing baby. when is it?"

"on the fourteenth." jude's eyebrows furrowed.

"on valentines day?"

"yeah."

"i have a match that day. you said you would come." he slowly removing his arms from around your waist. you tilt your head in confusion and sit up in his lap.

"i didn't think it would be a problem. i'm at almost all of your matches."

"why didn't you ask?"

"why do i have to? this is huge for my career for them to even want me there."

jude taps your leg gently, making you get out of his lap. in a way, you felt hurt. this was suppose to be a happy moment for you and your boyfriend wasn't being as supportive.

"well congratulations i guess," he grabs his phone and walks out. you sit there dumbfounded at his behavior. you would've never treated him like that. why couldn't he be supportive of this great opportunity?

-

the days leading up to the date were quiet. it was like a switch flipped off in jude. you guys went from spending pretty much every waking moment together to not even having a conversation that lasted more than five minutes. feeling like strangers rather than boyfriend and girlfriend.

you woke up before jude, knowing he had to leave early and decided to cook him breakfast for valentine's day as a surprise. cooking everything you knew he liked and plated it nicely. you almost couldn't contain the smile that was forming on your face. awkward phase or not, jude was the love of your life and that wasn't going to change.

"good morning baby! happy valentine's day," you walked in the room, finding him siting up against the headboard. you handed him one of the plates and sat across from him on the bed.

"happy valentine's day m'love. thank you for breakfast," jude leans forward and places kisses to your cheek and lips.

"i wanted to do something special for you. oh, plus, i have another surprise for you after my set." the boy's mood was quick to turn sour once again.

"I have my match, remember? oh yeah, you don't care enough to remember."

"jude," you sighed and placed your plate in your lap. "your match is at 10 am and then my set is at 6 pm."

"why can't you come to the match then?"

"they want me there early. i'm sorry babe."

"yeah whatever," he goes to eating the rest of his breakfast in silence.

"please don't spend the rest of our morning like this." you were met with silence, leaving you no choice but to wallow in it. "can you come to my set?" you quietly asked, hoping the answer would be yes even though he's upset. you guys were each others good luck charm.

"we'll see."

"jude, please don't be like that."

"i said, i'll see if i can make it. i don't know what you want me to say," he gets out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen. leaving you behind with a ache in your chest.

"i just wanted you to say that you'll be there," mumbling to yourself, you get up and follow him to the kitchen. jude stood over the sink washing the dishes that was left from you cooking. you slide your plate and fork in the sink, wrapping your arms around his waist after.

"if you can't make it, i understand. just please come to the hotel that my team has me in. i really do have a surprise for you."

"okay." you placed a kiss to his shoulder blade and unwrapped yourself from him, giving him space.

-

you were buzzing for the rest of the day. excited that your boyfriend's team won the match and this was your first time performing in barcelona. you texted jude, congratulating him on the win. as you were getting dressed, you were hoping that jude would be there in the crowd. especially since madrid was only a six hour drive away from barcelona.

"you ready rockstar?" you excitedly nodded at your manger kate. she gave you a high five and patted your back. you gave her one last smile, before letting the stage production guide you to the stage.

"hello barcelona! thank you, thank you, thank you for inviting me to play," the screams from the crowd making your heart warm. "i'm so excited to play for you all. let's get started, yeah?"

jude watched as you danced around the stage. it reminded him of the first time you guys met. he always loved seeing you in your element. absolutely letting go and just being yourself, while you sang. the boy started to feel guilty about not being happy for you when you first told him the news. he was being petty and reminded himself to apologize when he sees you backstage.

"i love you guys so much. thank you for being here and inviting me! goodnight barcelona," you blew a kiss and waved, as you walked off the stage.

there jude stood with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. you jumped into his arms, pulling him down into a tight hug. he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.

"you did so good baby. i'm unbelievably proud of you."

"i can't believe you made it."

"i was dick but i could never miss this moment. love seeing you on stage," jude places kisses all over of your face, causing you to giggle uncontrollably. you pushed his head away and smiled.

"i still have a surprise for you! we should get going."

"after you m'lady," jude dramatically bows as you lead the way. you were excited to finally have a conversation that lasted more than five minutes. going back to the way you guys were before.

-

"okay, so i worked really hard on this. i wanted to do this as a 'i'm sorry for missing your match'. i really hope you like-" you were cut off by jude's phone ringing. he took the phone out of his pocket and answered it immediately.

"nah, I'm not busy at all," your brows furrowed hearing him say that. it felt like a punch to your gut. as if you weren't showing him the surprise you had been planing for weeks. it takes a couple minutes before he gets off the phone.

"i'm sorry babe, i have to go."

"what?"

"the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win. i'll be back before midnight. i love you," jude kissed your lips and then moved to place one to your forehead as well. he was already walking away before you could get another word in. sighing to yourself, you walked into your hotel room.

you had the room decorated with balloons and rose petals everywhere. figuring that because it was valentine's day, he deserved something nice. instead, you were in the room alone. hoping that he'll be back before midnight like he promised.

-

he wasn't there. didn't answer a text message nor any of your calls. you waited, watching the time go by quickly. this was enough to make you question your relationship. jude was usually really good with his promises. did he do this on purpose because you missed the match?

"happy valentine's day jude," you whisper to yourself, drinking from the bottle of champagne you bought for your shared time together.

you silently cried to yourself as you watched the clock hit one o'clock in the morning. you felt so alone and unwanted. jude would rather spend time with his teammates than his own girlfriend. maybe the long distance wasn't working for him anymore. maybe he was still being petty. all you knew was that you were hurt. even crying didn't ease the pain that lingered in your chest.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Good Enough | Fernando Alonso

WC: 1.7K

Fernando x GF!Reader

Summery: "I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me." + "Am I interrupting something?" "No." "Yes."

Warning: Self doubt, insecurities

Part of the 1K Celebration

Masterlist

Fernando Masterlist

This wasn't the plan, it just kind of happened, how did you get here? That's the million dollar question. You're just a normal girl, living a normal life, working a normal job in retail. But somehow, somewhere you met Fernando, and asked you out on a date, you said yes. I mean who wouldn't. You found out who he is a couple of dates in and told yourself that it wasn't a big deal. Since then you've been having this feeling that maybe it's best you end the relationship now. Yet every time you see him, you can't bring yourself to do it. You tried to do it over the phone and even that failed, just hearing him call you amor or princesa was enough for you to change your mind. For a moment. So here you are now, happy when you're with him but unhappy the moment you get a moment to think too much.

Fernando is a loving guy, he's had many relationships in his life. The feeling he got when he first saw you was different from what he's felt before. It's more intense, more consuming, more... forever? He feels like you're in an endgame and maybe the relationship is too new for him to say that but he's old enough to know what's real and what he's made up in his mind. And when Fernando loves, he really loves, he just wants to take care of you, love you and never see you sad.

So you can understand why seeing you frown as you were alone waiting for him to come back from the bathroom in the restaurant, makes his heart clench. The switch that happens when your eyes fall on him is startling. The smile looks genuine, real.

"Are you alright?" Fernando asked once he's back sitting in front of you, you raise an eyebrow in question, confused. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" You take a sip from your drink, Fernando shrugs.

"Just making sure." You take his hand and give it a squeeze, he knows you're not telling the truth but decides to just let it go for now. Maybe it's a one time thing, or he's thinking too much about it.

"- and then I told her it was not happening." You and Fernando laugh as you finish telling him a story about one of your customers. You're at his house enjoying a day in, having the complete privacy to be yourselves. Just relaxing, in your lounge clothes, the movie you had on the TV paused as you started talking mid-way through it. The doorbell rings, bringing the moment to an end.

"Must be the food." Fernando says and goes to open the door. You lean back in the sofa and sigh, feeling happy, before your thoughts take the usual turn and it begins to wonder, Fernando and you are still private, and rightfully so, your relationship is still young. But it didn't stop the dread that always creeps in when you're least expecting it, as if your relationship that barely just started is about to end, like it's inevitable. You bit your bottom lip and your brows quirk a bit.

"y/n." You look and see Fernando frowning as he looks at you.

"Yes." You answer with a smile, all your thoughts are gone right now, you're back to your happy self. Fernando was calling you for a while before you heard him, he placed the food on the coffee table. “I was calling you."

“Sorry, I was lost in thought." You said and opened the bags taking the food out, setting it down. "This smells so good."

Fernando sits next to you and stops your hands from moving, taking them in his, you look up confused. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?" Fernando asks, taking every part of you in.

"Yeah, I'm alright, super hungry though." You give him one of your smiles that melts his heart and confuses him at the same time.

Fernando finally manages to convince you to go to a race with him, it took him a long time for you to agree to let him fly you out, you'll be staying in his hotel room so no extra cost there. Just the cost for the flight had you worried. But Fernando is persistent, when he wants something he sure does everything he can to get it.

The hotel Aston Martin booked in for the week had most of the grid booked in. It was filled with drivers, wherever you turned you saw one, it was all so new to you, so you stuck with Fernando the whole time, as much as you could anyway.

It was Thursday night, you and Fernando were back from a team dinner. In the lobby he was pulled to the side by a team member, you sat on one of the comfy chairs they had placed there. Looking around at the lavish hotel, it makes you feel even worse. You're not made for this lifestyle, it was hard getting two days off to come to the race, and it'll only become harder. But how can the relationship develop more if you don't meet.

"Amor." Fernando sits next to you, you blink and look at him, seeing the look on his face, your smile that you just plastered falls.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Yes."

"What? What's wrong? Did something happen." Your eyes are filled with worry, as you take the man you're grown attached to with attentive eyes, your heart dropped, thinking that maybe you were right after all, and that Fernando also agrees with it, and that he's about to break up with you. he too thinks that you're not good enough, that you're merely a-

"You tell me." You blink at his words confused, as he brings you out of your thoughts, did you miss something he said?

"W-What?"

"You tell me what's wrong." Fernando explains and you grow even more perplexed.

"Nando." You say dragging the 'O' a bit. "I don't understand."

"You're upset." He says simply.

"No, I'm not." You say with a bit of agitation in your voice.

"Amor, I see when you're sitting alone, you're always frowning. Something is bothering you and you've been hiding it from me." Fernando says and it dawns on you, he's talking about all the times you got lost in thought. Guilt starts eating at you, here he is caring about you and you're thinking about him leaving you. Maybe you should leave him, you're already causing trouble and it's not even a year yet. "y/n, please, just talk to me."

"I'm sorry." Your voice sounds so small even to your ears, tears gather in your eyes, Fernando sighs and pulls on your hands, wanting to bring you close.

"I don't want you to apologise, I just want to know what's wrong, so I can help you." Fernando whispers and you open your mouth ready to say that nothing is wrong. "Don't just say what you think I want to hear, tell me the truth, what you're really feeling."

"Nando." You mumble his tone and look up at him, your shoulders sagging, your lips quiver, Fernando cups your face, his hand providing you with comfort that you desperately needed right now.

"Come on." He pulls you up, and looks around before he pulls you into the emergency stairwell, where you'll have more privacy. "Now please just tell me."

"I uh, I just, I don't." You try to say but the words aren't coming out, Fernando gives your hand a squeeze, taking a deep breath you say. "I just feel like maybe you're better off with someone else, like maybe- no, I know I'm not good enough for you, that you'll get bored of me easily, I haven't lived the life you did, haven't done half of what you've done, I've barely been out of the country. It all scares me."

"Why does it scare you?" Fernando lets you say what you want then he'll circle back and talk you through all your thoughts.

"I'm scared because I like you, and I'm getting more attached to you, and when you leave me I'll be alone." You mumble your eyes not meeting his as you expose your inner thoughts to him, the thoughts that have been plaguing your thoughts for so long.

"And believe me when I say, I'm also very attached to you." Fernando says pointedly, he hates the thought of you doubting him, doubting this relationship. It kills him inside, he thought you had a good thing going on. "I find you incredibly smart, sweet, the kindest person I have ever met and unbelievably attractive."

"But-"

"I'm not done yet." Fernando says and puts a finger on your lips to stop you from talking. "Have I done anything that would make you believe I don't care about you?" You shake your head no. "Have I said anything?" Again no. "Okay so that means I feel like we're a good fit, y/n, amor, please believe me when I say I don't care, I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me... do you?"

"What?" Your eyes are wide as you stare at Fernando, you've moved closer, when? You don't know. You're both standing chest to chest, only a small space between the two of you.

"Do you love me? Like I love you." Your eyes welled up and you nod.

"Yes, I love you so much Fernando, so much." You say and Fernando smiles before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. You gasp which gives him access to your mouth, you moan lightly and wrap your arms around his neck. Just as you were getting more into it the door opened and you both pulled away, if it wasn't obvious what was going on the blush on your face is a clear indication.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" A smirking Lewis says.

"No." "Yes." You and Fernando say at the same time, you look at each other before you look back at the Mercedes driver.

"Well, since this one is occupied I'll go find another one." Lewis says and it's only then that you notice he has a woman with him, he sends you both one last knowing and smug look before he leaves.

"That was... something." You say and run your hand through your hair, trying to gather yourself.

"It was, don't bother with your hair, it'll only get wilder." Fernando said and pulled you out of the stairwell and to the elevator, his hands were all over you. By the time you reach your room, you're a giggling, hot mess.

[ebbaskitchen]

Suguru Geto x Reader

Text in bold italics are his thoughts 🤍

Summary: Geto comes back to you after his difficult missions looking for comfort.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Excorising, absorbing.

I kept repeating these tasks.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

No one knows...

the taste of Cursed Spirits.

It's like swallowing a cloth

that has wiped vomit.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

Continuously, unbeknownst of anyone around me.

Then, why am I lying here…

In your arms…

Small hands, warm and tender hands, run through his raven colored hair. Hands that somehow… just somehow, knew how to bring him comfort. Hands that knew where he was hurting — as the fingers trace the gentle crease of his hairline. Hands that he came back to every so often.

Your hands…

As your fingers waltzed with the strands of his dark hair, Suguru couldn’t help but ease into their touch …into your touch.

It always took him a bit to relax— starting from tensed muscles like those experienced in moments of shock or fear; but as he learned more about your touch by coming back to you so frequently, he began to relax in the feeling of them.

As your thumb gently swipes the tip of his nose to remove a fallen eyelash, he catches the lingering scent of cookie dough on your fingertips.

How did you know? I’ll never know…

But you knew the moment you asked me…

“Suguru, what do curses taste like?” You asked me with such gentle concern, I almost questioned if it was real or not. Was it a joke— was the world teasing me— or did you notice…?

I never got to answer your question… and still you knew.

If Suguru was to look up from his place on your chest, he knew exactly how you would look at him. Eyes that held nothing but adoration, concern, and gentleness. Eyes that glittered whenever they made contact with his dull orbs.

Knowing this, Suguru decides to look up, catching the way your pupils dilate when his stare meets yours— his natural strand of bangs falling into their rightful place.

You looked at me that way then too…

Studying your gaze, Suguru is reminded of a moment in his distant memory.

A few weeks after having met you, Suguru was assigned a mission on his own. He came back hurt, devastated — a look so dead in his eyes… but no one would notice that.

Subconsciously, he was looking for you when he had come back from that mission, but you were nowhere to be found. You had befriended him and he had taken a liking to you, your presence was comforting to him, even though he never expected anything from you. Giving up on the idea of finding you, he went to his dormitory, only to find the door was partially opened.

I thought it was a curse… I couldn’t bear to swallow one more that day.

I opened it hastily, wanting it to be over quickly but then I saw you…

And I smelled—- cookies??

He could never explain to you the way his heart fell to his stomach that day. And he could never explain to you the way his breath hitched in his throat when you said…

“To help with the aftertaste…” you whispered so softly

I couldn’t tell if the guilty look in your eyes was for being in my dorm when I wasn’t

or for making those cookies for me. Did you pity me…?

Though the first time he barely acknowledged the cookies due to fear that your concern for him wasn’t real, the second, third, fourth, and many other times you did make them, he was convinced it was more than just concern.

It soon became a ritual, whenever he went on a mission, he’d expect you in his dorm making cookies when he came back. And every time you’d say something along the lines of getting rid of the aftertaste from the curses he had to consume that day. And, on the more difficult missions, he would hesitantly lay in your arms. He knew you didn’t have his power, nor did you ever have to bear the feeling of eating or tasting a curse, but you did this for him as if you understood exactly what it felt like.

Now, in present time, looking back into your loving eyes, he swallowed something that, for the first time, wasn’t a curse.

I love you.

”Suguru,” your voice tickled his ear with warmth, “is something on your mind..?”

And he swallowed again.

I love you.

Your palm came to cup his cheek, the touch of you so magnetic, he slowly began to lean into it. And for a moment, no words are exchanged between the two of you, just audible breathing and even more audible heartbeats.

You began to lean your face closer to his, he didn’t notice how close you were until he could feel your breath on his skin. He held his breath the way he did when he first caught you in his dorm.

Your lips made contact with his skin. The press of them is so gentle against his forehead as if you could break him if you kissed any harder.

Lingering your single kiss there for a moment, Suguru couldn’t help but close his eyes under your affectionate lips. Pulling away from his forehead, he could see your brightly-dusted, pink cheeks that rose as you smiled so beautifully at him.

“I love you,” you’d be the first to say.

Excorising, absorbing

I kept repeating these tasks.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

No one knows...

the taste of Cursed Spirits.

It's like swallowing a cloth

that has wiped vomit.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

“I love you too,” he would answer in a barely heard whisper. But you heard it. You always heard him.

But somehow you knew…

And I knew

As long as I come back to you…

I’ll be okay…

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ebba’s Note

I hope you enjoyed it.

I used some of the script from the show but the rest is my original work.

Thank you 😊🤍

[lixzey]

Bf!Luke Castellan x Filipina child of Aphrodite!reader please? I haven't seen any of Filipina readers so I'm begging on my knees 🥺

In which she misses home terribly and decides to cook some of her fave food (preferably sinigang, adobo, or like something else! you can do some research, if you'd like 🫶🏻)

And she makes Luke try it! But he's so whiny bcs he hasn't even heard of the dish's name.

Anywaaay, I loved lovelorn!!! Waiting for the next update like 👀 Your writing is just so 🤌🏻 chef's kiss!!

late night cravings

summary: you miss home terribly, so you decide to cook your favorite ulam

warnings: filipina!reader x luke castellan! they're both 19 (set before tlt), they're like on vacation (luke and reader have an apartment in the east village, courtesy of reader’s dad who’s a filipino actor) away from camp duties for a while, swearing (both filipino and english), luke is a picky ass eater, making out, kinda suggestive content

a/n: i got so excited with this 😭 i'm a filipina and an aphrodite kid, so this was so fun to write! I hope you like it!

“What on earth are you cooking?” Luke asks, leaning against the kitchen door frame of the apartment the two of you own. “I woke up to the smell of that.” 

You immediately whip your head around to see your boyfriend, half naked and disheveled from sleep. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” You chuckle, blowing strands of your hair away from your face. 

“It's the middle of the night, princess, and you're cooking something that smells like vomit.” Luke grumbles as he makes his way towards you, still bleary eyed as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“I just missed home,” You giggle, reaching to grab the tongs to flip over the daing na bangus so it doesn’t burn. “Something wrong, baby?”

“Yeah, it smells like shit.” Luke complains, burying his face in your neck. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” You chuckle, placing the tongs down on a plate, escaping Luke’s grasp and making your way to the kitchen island, leaning against it. “It’s good, I promise.”

Luke stares at the pan. “I am not eating that thing.” He then turns to you, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Where’s the mac and cheese?”

“It’s just milkfish, dummy.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s refusal to eat anything other than mac and cheese. “Also, you finished the last box of mac hours ago, remember?”

“Ramen?” Luke asks, hopeful that there’s still some left other than the fish that’s stinking up the whole apartment.

When you shook your head, literal fear crept onto his handsome face. “Anything else?” He asks, his voice cracking like a teenaged boy going through puberty for the first time, making you burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s nothing left, you’ve finished everything.” You say through fits of laughter at your boyfriend’s food crisis. “Guess you’ll have to deal with the food I’m gonna cook.”

Luke’s eyes comically widen, like one of those cartoon characters you’ve watched when you were a kid. “There’s more?”

“Yeah,” You nod, jerking your head to the refrigerator littered with lots of printed photos of the dates you and Luke went on over the years you’ve been together. “I marinated some pork for adobo.”

“Ado-what?”

“Adobo, it’s a Filipino staple.” You answer with a chuckle. “It’s pork marinated in vinegar, soy sauce, and some garlic. I added some peppercorns too. My lola used to cook it for me when I was a kid.”

Luke makes his way to you, his large hands creeping onto your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. “As much as you love it, princess, I’m not eating any of it.”

“And why not?” You scoff, raising a brow at him.

“I don’t like it, that’s why.” Luke insists, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna go and get some real food.”

You sigh, annoyed by your boyfriend’s pickiness in food. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s been choosing what he eats like a child. It was always mac and cheese, chicken, pizza, and burgers. It was a struggle to feed him, honestly. Since he won’t eat anything apart from what he’s used to. Luke was lucky that the dryads serve mac almost with every meal—which is mostly for the kids or a side dish. You’ve tried to incorporate vegetables in his meals but somehow he always notices. It was infuriating, to the point that you just wanted to shove a broccoli floret down his throat.

All of a sudden, the smell of burning infiltrates your sense of smell, triggering the fire alarms simultaneously.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You frantically mutter, jumping off the kitchen island and running to the burning bangus on the stove. You grab the pan, forgetting it was on the fire for minutes on end. “Putangina!” You swear, abruptly pulling your hand off the pan’s handle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, here,” Luke grabs the pan with oven mitts, placing it on the counter.

You sigh as you stare at the burnt fish, hearing the pan hiss against the cold surface.

Luke, being the best boyfriend that he is, pulls you in a tight hug, his body heat engulfing you. “It’s okay, princess. It was an accident.”

“I’ve been craving that,” You mumble against his chest. “Stupid fire.”

“You still have the first one you cooked,” Luke points out. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

You raise your head, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” you mumble, lower lip out in a pout.

“Don’t be sad over a burnt fish, alright?”

You glare at him, pinching his side. “It was a tasty fish.”

“Geez, princess,” Luke scowls playfully. “A fish is more important than me?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, rolling your eyes. “I paid five bucks for that.”

Luke raises a brow at you. “When did you even get time to get them?”

“You sleep like a lamb, baby,” You chuckle, turning to walk to the refrigerator. “I went to a Filipino store.”

“There’s one in New York?” Luke asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said there weren’t any?”

“That was years ago, dummy.” You snort, grabbing the refrigerator handle, opening it. “Anyway, look what I got.”

An array of Filipino snacks filled the middle shelf of the fridge. You had gone all out. It wasn’t often that you splurge on food, but when a craving hits, it hits.

There were some Choco Mallows—chocolate covered marshmallows—your favorite treat as a child that your lola always bought for you. A jar of ube macapuno that you hated as a child but learned to love just recently. Some dried mangoes, pastillas, a jar of wafer sticks—stik o—a slice of brazo de mercedes, and many more.

“How the hell are you even gonna finish all of that?”

You shake your head, smirking. “You and I are gonna eat each and every item that I bought.”

Luke scowls, folding his toned arms over his chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Castellan,” You say, placing your hands on your hips. “You are going to eat whatever I serve you.”

Luke pouts, pairing it off with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Nope.”

“That smells like vomit,” Luke complains as you seared the marinated pork for adobo. “And it looks like it too!”

“Quit it,” You say with a murderous glare. “Don’t yap at it until you’ve tasted it.”

“I think I’m going to puke all my guts out,” Luke gags, making his way to the sink.

“For the love of the gods,” You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. It was just food, and he’s whining about it like there’s no tomorrow.

You turn your attention away from your picky eater of a boyfriend and back to the pan with the pork searing brown nicely. You then grab the remaining liquid from the marinade—which was not much, which it would have to do—pouring it in, causing the pan to hiss at the difference in temperature. You turn the stove down to medium high heat, before leaving it to simmer.

Much to Luke’s misery.

“You aren’t covering it?” Luke asks incredulously. “It’s smelling the place worse than the fish did!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Luke.” You sigh, grabbing a pouch of dried mangoes before taking a seat on one of the bar stools over the kitchen island. “It’s gonna taste good, I promise.”

“Ugh,” Luke wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gag me.”

“Nah, you’d like it too much.” You giggle, popping a slice of dried mango in your mouth.

Luke scoffs playfully. “Damn right I will, princess.”

“Then stop whining,”

“You love me,” Luke grins as he walks towards you, capturing your lips in his, his hand cupping your face.

You hum as your lips mold with his, your shoulders relaxing as he kisses you.

You pull away from the kiss, pushing him slightly. “You’re distracting me, Castellan,” you sigh dreamily, a soft blush covering your cheeks as your boyfriend looks at you like you’re the only thing in this world.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your lips as he trails towards your ear. “Is it working?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

“Luke,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest. “Stop, I don’t want to burn the adobo.”

Luke chuckles, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair. “Alright, but later?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you promise to taste the adobo and bangus,” You smirk at him, pushing him slightly away from your body as you stand up. “Maybe I’ll let it happen, you know? On this counter.”

“Do I really have to?”

“If you want to bend me over this counter, yes.”

Luke sighs as he reluctantly nods. “Fine, I’ll taste them.”

“That’s a good boy,” You coo, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Go and sit,” you jerk your head towards the bar stool you just stood up from. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Luke obliges, sitting on the stool with his arms crossed over the other. He grins at you, a mischievous look you know oh so well in his beautiful browns. 

Luke was teasing you, the little shit.

You chuckle, shaking your head, before turning to make your way to the stove, swaying your hips as you did—earning a small grunt from Luke behind you.

As you check up on the adobo, you see that almost half of the liquids have evaporated, leaving you with a slightly oily adobo—just the way you liked it. You turned down the heat, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to check if the pork was tender.

You poke the fork through the meat effortlessly, making you smile. The perfect adobo.

You quickly grab a plate and load it up with the delicious ulam you’ve grown up with, hoping Luke would appreciate it as much as you did.

“Here it is,” You excitedly announce, serving the adobo with a spoon and fork in front of him with a proud smile etched on your lips. “It’s better with rice, but it’s good on its own too.”

Luke stares at the meat in front of him, as if the adobo was going to attack him if he wasn’t vigilant enough. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like it’s burnt,”

You sigh, taking a seat beside him. “It’s supposed to look like that, but it isn’t burnt. It’s because of the searing, plus the soy sauce the pork has already absorbed.” You grab the utensils, shoveling a healthy amount of meat and sauce on the spoon using the fork. “Open wide, baby!”

Luke shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”

“Luke,” You growl, raising the adobo filled spoon up to his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth before I shove this spoon down your throat forcibly.”

Luke raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, geez,” he chuckles, opening his mouth up. “Be gentle with me, princess.”

You glare at him before pushing the spoon inside of his mouth. “If you spit that out, you’re sleeping on the damn floor.”

Luke chews the contents of his mouth, his eyes widening. “Fuck, this is good!” He grins as he pulls the plate in front of him and immediately takes another spoonful. “Mhmm, that hits the spot!” Luke says through a mouth full of the savory pork dish you cooked. 

“Good, baby?” You giggle, reaching to grab the fork from him to get a bite of your masterpiece. “Don’t finish it all, save some for me!”

“Losers, weepeers, baby,” Luke mumbles through bites. “You sure you didn’t use any love magic on this?”

You recoil, slapping his arm playfully. “I did not use gayuma, Castellan.” 

“Gayuma?”

“It’s love magic, in Filipino,” You answer, taking another bite of your food. “I have got to teach you more Filipino words.” 

“I’m in love with this—what is it called again?”

“Adobo,” You laugh, taking a bite of the said ulam. “Pork adobo.”

“Pork adobo, I love you!” Luke grins, like it’s the first time he’s ever tried food in eons.

You smile lovingly at your boy, looking all so happy and content. You could spend eternities just staring at him. Seeing Luke happy made you feel complete, like you’ve fulfilled a quest greater than anything the gods could dish out.

You could see a future with the man in front of you. You’ve honestly got nothing figured out, but Luke? He was the only thing you’ve got right in your life. You could see him, being the man you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with. You could see him being the father of your children, a little Luke and a little version of you, running around the front yard while you and Luke watch on the front porch with a multitude of toys sprawled around.

You fell in love with a careless god’s careful son, and he is the best thing that’s ever been yours.

“Princess,” You hear Luke call out to you, snapping you out of your daydreams. You look up, meeting his loving gaze, making your cheeks burn. Gods, it’s not fair of him to make me feel this much. 

“Yeah?” You hum, moving your chair closer to him, smiling as you did. “What is it?”

Luke cups your face in his large hands, pulling you in close, barely an inch apart. “I love you.” 

Your heart beats rapidly inside your rib cage, wondering how on earth does he manage to still make you feel like that giddy teenager who fell in love with him years ago. 

You stare in his eyes for what felt like eons. You could feel Luke’s breath hot on your lips, begging you to seal it inside of him with a kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, a small smile curling onto your lips. “I love you too, baby.” you whisper, before closing in the distance between the two of you.

Luke’s hands make their way down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your lips parting, sliding his tongue in, eager to taste you—even though he’s done it more times than he could count.

His lips were soft, like a cloud grazing yours. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, but with a hint of smoke and citrus playing at your taste buds. You should have been used to it by now, being in a relationship with Luke for almost three years and all. But his touch numbs you. His touch is like being dipped into the cold ocean, pulling you in—drowning you, until he’s bruised into your mind. 

Your hands creep around the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss—if it was even possible given the state of your tongues clashing with one another, fighting to assert dominance. You bite Luke’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his mouth. You feel this familiar heat pool inside your belly, along with something hard poking your ass.

You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen as you catch your breath. Before you could utter a word, Luke lifts you up on the counter, making you erupt in a fit of giggles. He then presses his forehead against yours, you could hear his slow breaths as your noses bump into each other. 

“So, you lettin’ it happen, huh, princess?”

“You didn’t try the other one,” You feign annoyance, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Can’t make an exception for me, princess?” Luke smirks, his fingers delicately brushing against your arms.

“I think I can squeeze you in,” You chuckle, pulling away from him with a teasing grin. “You good with that, mister?”

“I’ll take anything as long as it’s with you.” Luke grabs your waist, pulling you back close to him. “Gods, you are so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand cupping your face.

“I love you,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest, on the place where his heart rests. “More than anything.”

“You are the best thing in my life.” Luke sighs before leaning in to kiss you again like his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around you like a vice. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on his curls as if he was your lifeline.

Luke’s hands fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He quickly reaches behind, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, tearing the offending fabric off of your breasts.

Luke takes his time to admire your body, as if it was the very first time he’d even seen your breasts out on full display for him, just for him. His cock strained painfully inside of his shorts and boxers, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You see what you do to me, princess?”

You look at him with innocence in your eyes, which at the same time looks sultry and inviting, driving him crazy every time you do. “Who, me?”

“Aren’t you just a little vixen?”

“So, to the room?”

Luke shakes his head, moving towards you, his hands just below your breasts as he smirks. “Here, over the fucking counter.”

tags: @lilmaymayy @ma1dita @sc4rl3ttdafoxx @hottiewifeyyyy

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Capitano x GN Reader (SAGAU)

Am I writing this nearly a year after I said I would? Yes. My bad gang, the procrastination got the better of me. Honestly, looking back over my old writing on this account, I’m shocked I didn’t do Capitano sooner because I was/am obsessed with this tall, beefy man. (ngl, while reading some of my old writing, i was kicking my feet a little, past me was lowkey good at writing when I wanted to be). This is loosely based around what I was planning on writing for him last year, so hopefully it fits well into the story?

Contains - Capitano being actually so whipped for you, him trying to keep his distance and failing miserably, he ignores you for like a minute and you end up contemplating your life choices (real, i'm so not projecting here), he is very insecure about not being good enough for you (despite being the perfect man), dottore is lowkey more likeable here than in his own ending, mentions of murder, obsessive behaviour from all the fatui

Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here

“Capitano?”

It almost surprised you quickly the Harbingers fell silent, as though even one word from you had stolen the air from their lungs, their arguments trailing away into a deafening silence. You waited, a confusing mix of anticipation and fear filling your chest as you stared at the half-opened door.

But no one came.

There were soft whispers and retreating footsteps, shadows that crept across your room as people bustled around in the hallway (Was it a hallway? Or another room? You couldn’t be certain). You heard a cold female voice giving hushed orders, but even her voice faded as you waited uneasily for some recognition of your words, of your pleading call for Capitano.

But no one came.

He had been there, outside your door, you knew that for certain. You heard him, condemning the other nations for attacking you, another Harbinger had even called him by name. So why was is, that when you called his name, he did not answer? Was he too busy, too disinterested, too proud, to speak with you? The door remained unmoving, and you began to wish that you had never said anything in the first place, even as you refused to look away from the door.

But no one came. 

It had been a mistake, you decided. Whatever offence you had somehow caused him was clearly great enough for him to ignore you, to reject your pleading request for him, to turn his back on the chambers that you rested in. Perhaps, when the other Harbingers returned, you could ask them to pass along your sincerest apologies to your favourite Harbinger (although you would not mention that he was your favourite to them). Maybe that would heal whatever rift had apparently formed between-

“Your Grace?”

Capitano stood in the doorway, straight-backed and with his hands clenched at his sides. Even a cursory glance could tell you that he was not thrilled about having to be in your presence.

“I’m sorry for my tardiness. I was asking the other Harbingers if any of them were able to attend to you in my stead, but it seems they are … unavailable.”

He slowly stepped into the room and made his way over to the fireplace, keeping a large distance between the two of you as he did so, refusing to step too close to the bed you sat in. 

“If you have any pressing concerns or questions, I can pass them along to the other Harbingers or to the Tsaritsa. I’m afraid that I will be of little help to you, but I will see to it that the others are aware of your needs.”

This was worse than being ignored, you decided. His cold, impersonal words, his desire to keep his distance from you, even his stiff posture, it also pointed to one thing. He hated you. He could barely stand to be in a room with you, let alone make conversation with you. 

You felt silly all of a sudden, for thinking that your favourite character would hold any sort of affection towards you. You felt a sudden tightness in your throat, and had to fight back the tears that threatened to appear.

“I’m very sorry to bother you so trivally, Capitano. I had just wished to speak to you, but if you are busy, I will not keep you. Please, return to your duties.”

You were impressed by how steady you were able to keep your voice, even as you still fought back tears. But Capitano did not move, instead he almost seemed to tense up more. 

“I did not mean-” To your shock his voice wavered more than yours and his composed facade seemed to crumble in an instant.

“It is not that I do not wish to serve you, I just… I don’t … I can’t…”

He hesitantly took a step forward, then another, before falling to his knees by your bedside. You watched, mind still reeling at how quickly his demeanour had changed, as his shaking, gloved hands clutched at his chest, as though he feared his heart might stop at any moment.

“Please, I beg you, do not hate me! I could not- I cannot live with myself if you think I adore anyone or anything else more than you. But I cannot serve you, I am not worthy. I failed you, when you arrived at Zapolyarny Palace, I was unable to help you! I am-”

His frantic words were cut off with a sudden sob, and tears began to appear at the bottom of his mask, dripping down his chin. His breaths were shallow and desperate, with his hands upon his chest digging into his flesh more with every passing moment. 

“Capitano…” You whispered softly, still trying to make sense of his suddenly erratic behaviour, while also wanting to soothe whatever pain he was suffering. 

“I am not like the other Harbingers. I am useless to you, Divine One. When you were brought to the palace, I was asked to bring you upstairs, so the Doctor could operate on you, but I was too scared. I feared that if I touched you, you would shatter to pieces in my grasp. My hands were not made to be gentle and you were already so close to death, I could not do it. The boy, Tartaglia, was the one who carried you in the end. I was too cowardly.”

“You don’t need to compare yourselves to the others, Capitano. You were merely concerned for my safety.”

“You do not understand. The Doctor brought every one of his segments home so they could operate on you together. When your wound became infected and a fever took you, Signora lay by your side and kept you cool, even as your skin burned. Pantalone has not slept since you arrived and he will not sleep, he says, until your chambers are furnished to perfection. Arlecchino has sent out every member of the House of the Hearth to kill those who dared to harm you, with orders to return with their heads as proof. And I sit here, idle, unable to assist you. The reason the other Harbingers could not attend to you, is because they are already doing so. I fail you, Your Grace, by being unable to find a way of serving you!”

You found yourself quite lost for words, unsure of how to respond to Capitano’s increasingly defeated behaviour. You weren’t really sure what you expected from The Captain, but this was definitely not it. His sadness and self-loathing made you want to ease his mind somehow, to find him a purpose that would hopefully make him, your favourite, feel more wanted. 

“I think … I think I might sleep now, Capitano.”

He merely nodded, before turning his face away from you and shakily standing once more.

“But-!” You lunged forward, grabbing him by his arm before he could move out of your grasp. His head whipped around, mask concealing whatever emotions his face might have shown.

“But I was wondering if you might stay? With all those people who tried to kill me, I would feel quite unsafe, sleeping alone and defenceless. I need someone strong to protect me and how fortunate am I that you do not have other duties to attend to, but can instead stay by my side!”

You paused, holding your breath, hoping that would be enough to convince him. He stared at you (at least, you assumed he was staring at you, the mask made it difficult) for a long moment, long enough that you began to wonder if he had even heard you properly.

“You want me to protect you, Your Grace? I… Yes. Yes, I can do that. Just- Just give me a moment.”

And he was gone, his arm pulled from your grasp, and his cloak swishing out the door. You barely had time to wonder what he had left for, before he returned. With a chair under one arm and a truly massive blade under the other, he swiftly reentered the room, positioning the chair right beside your bed. 

“There. Is that all right, Divine One? Do you need me to sit closer, or further away?”

“No, no, it’s fine, Capitano.” You laughed, grateful that he seemed more … positive? At the very least, he didn’t appear to be as miserable as before.

You lay back down, turning to face Capitano, who was balancing the sword across his lap as he watched you. Under normal circumstances, the idea of sleeping in the same room as somebody with a sword would have freaked you out, but with the stress of the last few days catching up to you, you found yourself more tired than you had realised.

You stretched a hand out towards Capitano wordlessly, who eyed it apprehensively.

“Can you hold my hand?”

He stared at your hand for a few more moments, before slowly placing his own hand upon yours, so softly that you could barely feel it. 

“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”

Finally, we got there! Hopefully yall like this, i feel like the ending is a bit rushed, but god I love a man who pines. I’m probably going to write Pantalone next, this lowkey gave me some ideas for his ending. I’m also thinking about writing some non sagau stuff, I've got some thoughts about arranged marriage stuff with diluc and ayato <3

[nayedoll]

babe im gonna need a part 2 of the tattoo fic before I combust. it was sooo sweet <33

maybe joost getting to see all of the tattoos they talked about or something? doesn’t need to be smutty if you don’t write that kind of stuff 🤭

like a tattoo; part 2

joost klein x fem!reader

read part 1 here 💌

summary: after meeting joost through a tattoo appointment, you and him get closer resulting in a date at your house.

warnings: 18+, smut, some fluff

word count: 3.7k

a/n: first time writing full on smut so pls be considerate, i really tried my best yall😭

rpf ahead, do not real if uncomfortable !!!

───────────────────────

The evening sun briefly appeared between the grey clouds, casting a faint glow on the walls of your apartment. You rested your back against the closed door, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes to numb the ongoing headache you had been having for the past hour.

After spending the entirety of the day in the tattoo studio, to say you were exhausted and in need for some comfort was an understatement. That comfort was soon found as you opened your eyes again and looked around the cozy smallness of your apartment, the warmth of your own home making you sigh in relief.

Tossing your bag somewhere on the couch, you hurried to the bedroom to change, the discomfort of your worn out clothes being replaced by a soft hoodie and some pajama shorts.

You practically collapsed into the couch as you returned to the living room. The sun had almost set by now making the room lose all of its light and you sat there in silence, sinking into the darkness. You suddenly felt lonely at the isolating emptiness of the room, a feeling that was intensified by the distant noises coming from your half opened window that reminded you of the lively city life outside of your apartment.

Your phone ringing from inside your bag interrupted your thoughts, the vibrant blue light that emitted from its screen momentarily lighting the space around you. You flinched at the buzzing sensation and quickly grabbed your phone, unsure about who would call you at this hour.

The contact name displayed on the screen sparked an excitement in you and you answered the call, attempting to suppress your growing smile.

“Joost?”

As of last week, Joost had been the only thing occupying your thoughts, inking them with his presence like a tattoo. You weren’t exactly the type to flirt over text, but with Joost it was different, it was more fun, more meaningful. His messages felt like a breath of fresh air amidst your hectic life and you appreciated his genuine interest in you in contrast to all of the sex hungry men you had had the unfortunate chance of meeting in Amsterdam so far.

“Hallo,” Joost’s voice was raspy and low as he spoke over the phone.

“Hey.”

“Am I bothering you?” he asked, his tone suddenly becoming reluctant and shy.

“No, of course not,” you reassured him, finding his thoughtfulness cute. “If anything, I needed a distraction.”

“Busy day?” he asked.

“Yeah”. A sigh left your mouth, hinting at your exhaustion.

“Mhm”. You heard some muffled noises on the other end, indicating that he was moving around. “So I’m assuming you’re going to sleep soon?”. He sounded a bit disappointed, as if he had different plans in mind.

“Well I don’t have anything better to do,” you replied before an idea sparked in your mind, “Unless..” you trailed off, “You have any ideas?”.

You were half serious half playing, not really expecting Joost to agree with your last minute suggestion. But then again, why not try? Texting was fine, but you wanted to see him, touch him, hear his voice without the muffled sound of the speaker getting in the way. A quiet laugh from his side filled the short-lived silence before Joost spoke again.

“Would an improvised dinner at your place be enough to please you, ma’am?” he asked jocularly, you chuckled as you rubbed your legs together in excitement at the confirmation that he’d be coming over.

“I’m very hard to please,” you teased him further with an exaggerated cockiness.

“I’m willing to take up the challenge,” Joost affirmed, his words sending a lightness to your heated chest.

“Alright, I’m intrigued,” you replied giggling, “See you in..?”

“Twenty minutes at most if the bus driver arrives on time.”

“Doubt that.” You hung up, finally allowing yourself to vocalize your excitement, squealing in anticipation amidst the silent room.

You didn’t exactly know what Joost meant by improvised dinner but that was a question to be raised for later seeing as the amount of time you had to get ready wasn’t very ideal for -what you assumed was- a date.

Nonetheless, you rushed to your vanity where makeup sat scattered on top of it. Just a little you mumbled to yourself, applying makeup, just enough to enhance your natural beauty and finished off with your favorite lip gloss, as always.

You didn’t change much about your outfit, only discarding your worn out hoodie and replacing it with a cuter one. Your white pajama shorts stayed on, as you considered them to be perfect for such an occasion: pretty, maybe even a little sexy, yet comfortable.

You hurried to the door, the floral notes of your perfume filling the air along the way. Opening it, the anxiety you were feeling vanished at the sight of Joost’s warm, genuine smile.

“Hey there, lieverd” Joost grinned.

“Hey” you smiled welcoming him inside, “What’s that?” you pointed at the medium sized paper bag he was holding.

“What does it smell like?” Joost asked, setting the bag on top of the kitchen island.

“Hmmm” you leaned closer in an attempt to figure out the smell, “Fish?” you looked at him through uncertain eyes.

“Close enough,” he smiled, “It’s sushi.”

“No way” your eyes widened, “I love sushi.”

“Yeah I know, you’ve told me.” Joost responded. You bit your lip suppressing a smile, he remembered.

“So I presume this is the improvised dinner of the night?” You added, taking the neatly packaged sushi out of the bag. Joost nodded and took a seat, his eyes fixed on you.

You looked away, blinking rapidly as he spread his legs and crossed his arms to sit more comfortably. Shit you thought, wondering if you were this flustered by him just sitting, how the rest of the night would unfold.

“Yeah” Joost said all too casually, carrying on the conversation, “I do however hope you have some kind of alcohol we can drink.”

“Hm” you briefly turned your back to him to grab a bottle of wine from one of the cabinets, “Will wine do?” you asked, holding out the bottle for Joost to see.

“Sounds romantic,” he smirked, giving you a small nod, “I like it”. You scoffed, averting your gaze from his. As you did so, your eyes landed on the balcony door and a new idea emerged in your mind.

“Well, since you like romantic things, it is only right that we dine on the balcony together,” You suggested, nodding towards the direction of the sliding glass door. Joost took a glance at where you had pointed, a smile plastered across his face as he looked back at you. “Has a great view” you added, shrugging your shoulders.

“Sure.” Joost affirmed, following you outside to the narrow balcony.

A table was placed in the middle ,small but enough to accommodate two people with two plastic chairs on each side. You both sat down silently as you took in the lovely view that the balcony offered.

The street your apartment complex was built in wasn’t too crowded, therefore it allowed you and Joost to enjoy the peacefulness of the night, while also staying in touch with the city’s night life.

You reached for the chopsticks but Joost stopped you by repeatedly clicking his tongue. “What is it?” you laughed, watching as Joost pulled out his lighter and used it to light up the old vanilla scented candle on top of the table. He glanced back at you with a proud smile as a chuckle escaped your lips.

“God, are you always this cheesy?” you scoffed, though deep down you were appreciative of his little gesture.

“Just for today,” he explained with a sheepish smile as he poured a glass of wine for you and himself.

“Whatever you say,” You rolled your eyes, giggling.

—

It was 12:41 A.M. The streets had become completely empty by now, the only sound filling the street being the distant music from bars and some cars passing by every now and then. Joost had moved from his seat, now standing directly across from you against the balcony railing, smoking a cigarette. You looked up at him as he spoke, silently admiring the way the soft moonlight illuminated his sharp features.

Your eyes instinctively trailed down his bare arms, gazing at his tattoos. You stifled a smile as you noticed the freshly tattooed phrase on his forearm that was done by none other than you. Only then, you recalled the way you and Joost had met and how he wouldn’t be here, standing in your balcony, if it wasn’t for that appointment.

“Nice tattoo,” You said playfully, hinting at his forearm.

“You think?” Joost furrowed his brows, briefly looking down at his tattoo. You nodded and reached out for his wrist as if you wanted to take a better look, but truly your intentions were different, more sinister.

Joost took a step closer even though he didn’t have to, considering the already small width of the balcony. You looked up at him, your mouth slightly parting as you realized just how close he was, his crotch mere inches away from your face.

“You have to show me your tattoos at some point too, you know?” Joost said, you felt a familiar heat run through your body as you got an idea of where he was taking things.

“I can show you this one for now,” you smiled and turned your head to the side, exposing the heart tattoo near your ear.

He had already seen that tattoo on the day of the appointment and you knew that. You secretly wanted him to ask you for more, the ones under your clothes at the parts where you wanted him the most.

“But I want to see all of them,” Joost gently grabbed your chin, pulling your gaze back to his face where a sly smile sat on his lips. His eyes reflected the lust you were feeling at that moment, your cheeks burning amidst the cool night breeze.

“Then we should go inside,” you breathed as Joost caressed your cheek one last time and smiled in agreement, making space for you to get up. You lightly held his hand and led him inside to the kitchen.

“Y’know you don’t have to show me your tattoos if you’re not comfortable with that,” Joost said softly, placing a hand on your waist. You smiled at his thoughtfulness as you closed the door and gazed up at him, barely able to make out his face from the poor lighting of the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” you shook your head, laughing, “Are you comfortable with me doing that?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“More than comfortable,” he smiled down at you.

You walked with him to the living room, your hand still on his and sat down next to him on the couch. You paused for a second, unsure of how to start. Just his stare alone drove you crazy at that moment and you wondered how it would feel when he actually touched you. Joost sensed your uncertainty and took the initiative.

“What’s this one?” he asked, pointing at the ribbon drawing on your upper thigh, just below the hem of your shorts. You smiled, giving a brief explanation and showed him the few other tattoos scattered across your legs. You took your time exhibiting them one by one, giving details about when and why you got those tattoos. Joost seemed interested at first, though you could tell he was getting more impatient by the minute as your plan to tease him was working.

“Okay, so these are all the tattoos on my legs,” you said, looking at Joost who had leaned back against the couch, listening to you intently.

He glanced at your hoodie, silently asking you to take it off with his eyes. You removed it and tossed it somewhere behind you, leaving you with nothing but a white tank top that matched your pajama shorts.

Joost bit his lip, fighting back a smile. You wasted no time in showing him your tattoos, running your trembling hands along your inked arms.

“And then,” you breathed and turned your back to him, “I have this little one on my back,” you lifted your hair up, unveiling the phrase tattooed on your back that was written in cursive.

“That’s really pretty,” Joost mumbled, resting his hand on your shoulder as his thumb caressed your tattoo. You winched at the contact as a shiver ran down your spine, rubbing your thighs together to cool off the tension that arose between them.

“Relax,” Joost laughed, his fingers still grazing the skin of your exposed flesh. He moved closer, his hot breath against your neck near the heart tattoo that had started it all, as he kissed softly on it.

“You got any other tattoos you wanna show me?” He said, placing more wet kisses along your neck and biting the area, resulting in quiet moans from you.

“One more,” you exhaled, biting back a smile.

The tattoo you were referring to was the one under your shirt, in between your breasts and you were deliberately saving it as the last one in line.

Joost hummed in agreement on your neck, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of electricity through your body, your breath slightly quivering.

“Show me.” He pulled back, his tone demanding but gentle.

You faced him again, a sly smile on your lips, you were getting closer to where you wanted him.

“Sorry but,” You pouted your lips, your finger lightly brushing against Joost’s cheek, “You’ll have to find it yourself.” you said coyly, inching closer to him at a dangerous proximity.

“Fine by me,” Joost smirked and held your waist firmly, bringing your smaller frame on top of him. You pushed him back on the couch, your thighs now straddling him. His eyes met yours, soft and desperate, quietly begging to kiss you. You leaned down, kissing him with passion in contrast to the softness of his lips against your own.

You instinctively began rubbing your heat on his thigh, desperately searching for a way to release the tension you were feeling. Joost encouraged you by guiding your hips against him, the friction earning a moan from you.

Your hand traveled lower to his crotch, getting an idea of just how hard he was before pressing your palm on top of it. He groaned at the sensation, smiling against your lips.

He moved his lips to your neck, his teeth lightly grazing against various spots, leaving love bites all over your neck and collarbones. You were panting heavily, feeling the wetness in your panties grow the more you grinded on him.

“Can I take your shirt off, baby?” Joost stopped you, tugging at the cotton fabric of your top. You breathed a stifled yes, raising your arms to help him remove the shirt as he pulled it over your head and discarded it to the floor. He stayed silent, gazing at your half naked figure.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled, you weren’t sure if he meant your breasts or the tattoo in the middle of them, but still blushed at his comment. You leaned in for another kiss, this time more controlled and romantic, playing with his hair as you did so.

He broke the kiss, breathing deeply. “Can you uh- Can you lay down on your back for me?” he stuttered, running his hand through his hair.

You obeyed and got off his lap, now resting your back on the soft surface of the couch. Joost stood on his knees in front of you, taking his shirt off, exposing his happy trail. You slightly opened your legs, just enough for him to get in between them. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his chest as he towered over you, panting frantically.

He lowered himself atop of you, his lips trailing from your neck down to your stomach, at a teasingly slow pace, igniting a tingling sensation in your body. His hands toyed with the waistband of your pajama shorts, teasing you all the more.

“You want me to take these off?” You glanced down at Joost, desperately nodding in agreement. “I need words, baby.” His hand lightly brushed your inner thigh, making you wince and clench around nothing.

“Yes, do whatever you want,” you exhaled, watching as a satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He took the shorts off, leaving you almost entirely exposed to him. His hands delicately ran over your legs, resting just at the hem of your lace panties that left very little to the imagination.

“You’re so wet,” Joost whispered, grazing his fingers over your clothed pussy. You whimpered, rocking your hips forward to feel more of him. “So impatient,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Joost please,” you said with despair in your voice. He mouthed an okay before carefully slipping your panties all the way down to your feet and tossing them away.

Despite your lustfulness, he was still so gentle with his touch, taking his time with your body which intensified your desire for him.

His fingers started stroking your clit, earning a sudden gasp from you. Your body was so hot you could say you were practically burning alive, as Joost worked his fingers on your slick folds before pushing his middle finger inside of you. You arched your back, your breath hitching at the sensation of his thick digit caressing the inside of your core.

“That feels so good,” you managed to say in between your strenuous breaths. Joost smiled, clearly enjoying the sight of you, your face flushed as you let out small moans. You rolled your eyes when he added a second finger, feeling dangerously close to your climax with each passing second.

Just then, he withdrew his fingers that were glistening with your arousal, quickly licking them. You whined, making a pouty face up at him and he let out a small, barely audible laugh. “I know liefde,” he mumbled, grasping your thigh with one hand while the other traveled to his belt, trying to unbuckle it.

You stared at him, feeling a rush of excitement pump through your veins at knowing what was coming next, the metal sound of his belt being unfastened only validating your sinister thoughts. He pulled his pants down to his knees, not bothering to fully take them off as he shot you a glance, waiting for a confirmation.

Your eyes flickered to his boxers and you wet your lips, nodding up at him. You held your breath as he lowered his boxers, his hard cock fully uncovered and you attempted to suppress a smile.

He leaned down again, propping himself with one arm next to your head and gave you a soft grin. So beautiful was all you could think in that moment, cherishing his beauty as he stood over you, his hair a cute mess, a pink blush painted on his face that was glistening with sweat.

He carefully lined himself up with your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your folds before he slowly entered you. A groan left his mouth at the sensation of you clenching around his hardness as you exhaled sharply.

Your hand twitched, looking for some kind of support as he pushed deeper into your core. Joost noticed and firmly held your hand that was resting on top of your stomach, his tattooed fingers intertwined with yours.

You let out a stifled cry as he bottomed out, not moving to allow you to get used to his size. Before long he started thrusting inside of you at a slow pace, your grip on his hand loosening the more he continued.

Your moans and his grunts filled the silence of the room, as you let yourselves be consumed by the intimacy of the moment.

“So good,” Joost breathed, his pace increasing, “You’re perfect.” he added. You whimpered in response, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. You felt yourself getting closer as your legs began shaking and your moans became louder and faster.

“Joost,” you cried out, grasping at his shoulder.

“I know baby, it’s alright,” Joost quickened his pace all the more, the ecstasy from his rapid movements making it harder for you to resist your orgasm. Loud cries escaped your lips as you came undone on his cock, trembling furiously under him from the immense pleasure of the moment.

Joost muttered a few curses, his movements becoming sloppier and faster, the dirty sound of his skin slapping against yours now filling the room. You quieted down, tilting your head to the side from the exhaustion.

“Just a few more seconds schatje, I promise,” Joost said, letting out stifled groans as both of his hands sinked into the skin of your waist. With a final grunt, Joost pulled out of you, letting his release spill on top of your stomach and chest.

He placed a peck on your hair, leaning back and resting his back against the couch as he caught his breath. You slightly sat up, propping yourself on your elbows, your chest heaving slowly.

“I’ll get you something to clean yourself up,” Joost said, fumbling his fingers through his sweaty blonde hair.

“No it’s okay,” you smiled as you collected his release with your fingertips and licked it, savoring the salty taste of it on your plump lips.

Joost stared at you in amusement, eyes widening at your action. “You’re insane,” he laughed and shook his head.

“Just a little,” you joked and got up to take a shower.

-

Not long after, Joost and you had moved to the bedroom where you were cuddling, your head tucked away into his warm chest that carried the sweet scent of your body wash on it. Joost was running his hands through your hair, twirling it with his fingers as you talked.

“By the way,” he cleared his throat, “I like your tattoos. Didn’t really get the chance to tell you earlier.” he said, the gentleness of his voice almost therapeutic in a way.

“Thank you.” you smiled, stroking his stomach.

“I’ll come by for another appointment soon.” He added.

“Really? What are you getting?” you asked,excited that you’d be tattooing him again.

“A heart tattoo.”

[lordgrimoire]

The Goonion would like a Word

Bruce had never had an experience like this before, letters of ransom from any of his rogues? Certainly! But the Goonion only ever left messages when they were paying bail for their own, and he was becoming worried as to why Jason’s Goons had posted a message to him via The Goonion.

“To Batman of Gotham, New Jersey, United States of America, We would like to have a word with you in regards to a pair of Meta Adjacent individuals we would like to harbor here in Gotham, we are only extending the courtesy to you regarding them due to the fact that the United States Government refuses to acknowledge them as people due to their conditions, the Boss said he would tell you himself, if he has not already he likely will soon. Suffice to say a family of three is coming to Gotham as their last chance at a safe harbor and we would prefer it if you did not get on their cases. We hope to receive your response without any broken bones, The Goonion, Gotham, New Jersey Branch.” Tim was staring at the paper, the stationary of The Goonion, with confusion, Dick, Barbara, Cass, and Stephany seemed rather accepting of it, and Damian was confused. 

“What is this, Goonion?” His youngest asked, staring at the paper as Bruce read over the return address, the Iceberg Lounge, a server named Thomas. 

“Ah, we haven’t told you about them yet have we?” Dick began, sitting back. “They’re nice folks, help get the Goons payed and are usually the ones to put their feet down when Rogues get outta hand for normal folks, for instance, the Joker does not have the stamp of approval for, many reasons. But primarily it’s due to his former Henchmen, including Harley, snitching on him to the Goonion.” Dick typed something into his phone, Damian’s own device pinging in his pocket, likely more info. “The Goonion has an odd relationship with us, we don’t go after them and they try to keep things regulated, Jason could probably tell you more, and it seems from the letter we do have to talk to him.” The door to the cave opened, and while Bruce looked up to see his second son come walking down the steps he seemed, tired, run down even.

“The Goonion already got to you? Good on them.” Jason huffed as he sat next to Damian, ruffling the boy’s head much to his exasperation and attempted swatting. “Situations fucked, the letter doesn’t even touch on the bigger parts but it gets, real fucky like, possibly gonna want to get Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana in on it fucky, definitely Constantine as well.” Well Bruce knew his flags rather well and if Jason was advocating for not only a League intervention but one headed by John Constantine? Bruce decided to address the original topic first. 

“They can stay, but they will have to answer questions.” Jason huffed and leaned back. 

“Ground rules then, the two younger kids? Meta Adjacent? They have a similar situation to me, and it turns out Ra’s is playing with not even a tenth of a full puzzle with the Lazarus Pit.” Everyone around the table stiffened, save Alfred who had come in behind Jason with a tea service, as Jason took a sip from the mug placed before him and nodding to Alfred. “Thank you. The details are spotty but the abridged form is this, the Lazarus pit is the remains of a bunch of people from a dimension to which we all go when we die, the residents therein call it the Infinite Realms since it services everyone that means every Person who has a faith or doesn’t has a place there. Furthermore these three’s parents who passed recently in a Government Sanctioned raid made a Portal to the Infinite Realms, and Lazarus Water? Corrupted, dirty, a literally soul eroding form of what makes up matter on that end of the divide, Ectoplasm.” Jason withdrew a vial from his pocket, a bright green and sluggish substances was held within. “This is pure ectoplasm, The Parents, a pair known as Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, introduced me to a Doctor from the Infinite Realms, suffice to say I am feeling much less angry and far more at peace with things, though apparently being angry is normal for the type of “Dead but Brought Back” I am.” Jason placed the vial on the table and slowly pushed it to Bruce, taking his hand back when he reached for it.

“Jazz, the eldest, is a student at Gotham University, or she is now, identities and the like will be handled later but for the younger two it’s time for some non starters, because apparenlty if you ask an Ecto Entity or anyone touched by the Infinite Realms how they died it sets off a “I Must Kill You Now” trigger in their head, essentially forcing them to suffer their deaths all over again until they deal with who or whatever asked the question, so no being a little nosey punk about it Tim.” Tim jolted at his name being said instead of Jason’s nickname for him but he nodded when he realized that his elder brother hadn’t looked away from him. Bruce was still proud the two had started to mend things so well, but as he stared at the vial a question swirled in his mind.

“Why did the Goonion send a letter then?” Jason stiffened slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alrighty, so you know how I’ve been going to College classes since a year ago? I met Jazz at one of them, as Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne and card carrying member of Red Hood’s Goonion. This was, sometime around Spring Semester, soooooo” Steph lunged up, mouth open with a squeak until Cass pulled her back down. Jason sighed and continued. “We started dating last year, she wants to be a psychiatrist and maay have started working for The Goonion in Star City when one of their guys ended up on her mentor’s patient bench. Her academics are already transferred to Gotham U but she’s still looking for a new Mentor.” Bruce made an affirmative noise at that, encouraging, Jason was holding something back, the younger siblings hadn’t been named yet. “The Goonion hired her former mentor and Jazz followed them in since they have really good benefits, and she has experience with the whole Capes and Crooks thing already. Though she told me she would rather she and her siblings explain that.” 

So, Jasmine Fenton, after being a student for at least a year in Psychiatry, became a Goonion Psychiatrist, and then when her Parents died she takes her younger siblings, one of whom is rather recently adopted into the family by the looks of it, and flees her hometown, one Amity Park Illinois, which has a disturbingly blank file in the League databanks. “Yeah,” Jason began, looking over at the Batcomputer, scanning the total lack of data from two year ago on. “The Government locked their hometown down quick, they have a branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward, who managed to get a law in before our current Shining Dome of a President, was sworn in, apparenlty old Lex has been trying to rip that law to shredds since he found out about it and there’s something akin to a coup attempt going on from the GIW towards Lex. I looked into those guys already, I think it would be wiser to side with the current President and not a bunch of Loons who would dissect Uncle Clark and his kids if they got the chance.” Damian jerked slightly, turning to face Jason.

“What?” 

“Yeah, Krypton is dead it’s a dead world, by some of the smaller parts of the Anti-Ecto Acts that means that all Kryptonians are ecto-beings and by that law have no sentience, and are just emotions imprinted on ectoplasm, given the fact I died once they would pick me up as well in a heartbeat, for “disposal” as they call it.” The room had become Still, Dick seemed furious, staring at the damning lack of info alongside a pale Tim, Damian who was still staring at Jason realized just why his brother had looked back to him and was also looking at Cass, they had been brought back by the pit, they were by Federal Law non-sentient. Bruce felt the arms of his chair bend slightly under his grip before breathing out his frustration. 

“You have a plan?” Jason nodded, he seemed to be expecting worse, you really didn’t give him a reason not to, and began speaking.

“The Goonion will be dealing with protecting people who fall under the acts, we just need the JL to take this problem and light it on fire, drag it into the public eye and raid a few of the GIW’s bases that may have people, both from our side and theirs, in captivity. I will be going tonight to get Jazz and her Siblings from a bolt hole of theirs, an Aunt in Arkansas whose bound to be investigated is hiding them, I just need to borrow something.” Bruce allowed an eyebrow to climb up his forehead, he wants to borrow the Batplane for it.

“I’ll allow it, go and get them once it starts to become dark out, I’ll expect you back by dawn, do you have a place set up?” Jason blinked at him before nodding. 

“Yeah, one of the safer corners of Crime Alley, closest part to Gotham University, three bedrooms, two bath, someone maaay have helped me pick it out.” Bruce nodded, he would get nowhere in trying to guess which of his other children, Alfred, or any of Jason’s friends, or even some of their own collectively reformed Rogues could have helped Jason in this, but suffice to say it was a safe harbor and one backed by some rather tough figures. The Goonion alone would give anyone trouble, but with them being in Crime Alley that meant that they were essentially in an invaders nightmare. Dead ends, construction, dilapidated or abandoned buildings, it was a natural ambush site. Jason then put a box on the table, it was a scanner of some sort. 

“One of the reasons they’re coming here is this,” he flipped a switch and the machine began to frantically beep, practically sounding a long tone before Jason flipped it off again, “Gotham sits on a similar point to Amity Park, and as such we are LOADED with ambient ectoplasm, constantly stirred up by magic based curses of one sort or another it essentially blinds ectoplasmic tracking devices.” Bruce nodded, accepting the device as it was pushed down the table to him. “Jazz had apparently decided that they would run to Gotham if things went sideways like this anyways, we’re the closest ambiently effected city to Amity not ringed by GIW outposts and scanners.” Bruce paused in his observing of the machine, the GIW had surrounded other cities that had high ambient ectoplasm?

“Where?” Jason pulled out a small notepad.

“Well, Jazz wouldn’t tell us, but the Goonion has it’s ways, The GIW has encircled the following cities, Salem, Boston, and Springfield of Massachusetts, New Orleans, New York, Philadelphia and Gettysburg of Pennsylvania, Chicago Illinois, Savanah Georgia, D.C., and then San Francisco and San Antonio of California and Texas respectively, I asked for this list at 6 this morning, I was handed this current version at Noon, these were just the overt ones. Metropolis, Bludhaven, and Gotham, are currently not surrounded, there are locations between them but not many.” Bruce stood, watching as addresses were placed on the table, each assigned a sticky note and details. 

“You should get ready to go get Jazz and her siblings, we’ll deal with this.” Bruce tapped on the sticky note closest to him. Jason nodded and stood, following Alfred out of the Batcave as Bruce looked to the rest of his family. “We have targets, we have details, Tim, dig up what you can on the GIW, Damian, Dick, Cass, Stephanie, your with me, we’re going to raid as many of these places as we can tonight, Barbara,”

“I’ve got comms, got it.” She interrupted, rolling over to the Bat computer and preparing for daylight operations 

[starswguru]

❝ castaways ; 명재현

𖥻 pairing: loser!myung jaehyung x female reader

𖥻 contains: rockstar!au, childhood best friends to lovers

𖥻 warnings: inspired by 5sos "try hard" + "heartbreak girl" / english is not my first language so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings, and i also forgot to proofread so i'm sorry in advance everyone

word count — 2.4k

synopsis — you and jaehyun had been friends ever since you could remember, supporting and caring for each other. but little did you know that the boy you saw as the personification of a soulmate found in a friendship, saw you as the most perfect muse for all the songs he had ever written. you didn't know it yet, but jaehyun was doing his absolute best to make you see his true feelings.

🎀

IT was no secret that looking back to your whole life, you’d lived more years being friends with jaehyun than not. it was natural — for the both of you — to share memories, habits, tastes, experiences, or whatever it was with the other; more natural even than doing so with your families. myung had always been there for you and you had always been there for him. always.

however, for a little over two years now, the two of you have not been able to see each other as often as you used to in the past. between you getting into university and him chasing his dream in the music industry, the necessary sacrifices took more from your individual lives than your teenage fantasies could’ve ever predicted when you were in high school.

the weather that afternoon was warmer than the usual autumn days and you couldn’t help but smile thinking that perhaps even nature knew that two halves of the same soul were about to meet again for the first time in eight months or so and was happy that this encounter was going to take place. there was a light breeze running through the city, refreshing the anticipation inside of you and making your hair dance with movements worthy of the highest class of ballet as you opened the heavy dark-wood door before you.

your eyes wandered around the ambience, looking for those large round dark of his you could recognize anywhere, no matter how much time had passed. “sometimes i swear i can see stars reflecting on your eyes, hyun”, you said one time when you were younger right after your first ever heartbreak and your best friend came to your rescue on the parking lot where your former boyfriend left you; jaehyun picked up the tiny broken pieces of your crushed heart only to somehow find a way to glue them back together until you found the strength to heal by yourself, and the musician never asked for anything in return, because that was who he was in the end. it didn’t take long before you smiled from ear to ear at the sight of him.

“hi, jae!” the excitement in your voice was noticeable to anyone close to the table at the almost empty café you were supposed to meet. “you look different. what did you do?”

the boy, at least you thought it was still the same boy you’ve known since childhood, let out a faint laugh as he hugged you tightly against his body, a good amount of centimetres taller than yours. just like he always used to do, jaehyun cupped your face with his right hand — the soft hand, the only one that should touch you, in his mind — and caressed it before messing up your hair while laughing a little more. “you noticed, didn’t ya?”

before you could answer anything properly, your attention was immediately drawn not only to the edge of the brunette’s lips but also to his left ear, and a confused frown took over your face. “is that a lip ring? and you got an industrial! jaehyun, you cut your hair!”

“but do you like it?” he asked raising his eyebrows in a split second before focusing on the menu. the music lover didn’t have the courage to say the real reasons as to why he did all that, at least not at that moment, but the biggest parts of his heart were praying that you enjoyed the modifications to his appearance like his heart was telling him you would, simply because his heart knew you better than his conscious mind did.

“i mean, yeah i do… it makes you look even more of a rockstar now, hyun, you don’t look like the good mama’s boy you always looked like.” with a chuckle, you decided to copy his moves, and turn your gaze back to the menu, even though you already knew what you’d order anyways.

jaehyun opened a smirk but that kind of good humor didn’t reach his dark eyes. he was twenty years old, over fifteen years had passed since the first day he ever saw you before him and the agony of suppressing the deep and unique feelings the musician had towards his best friend had been eating him alive for the majority of those fifteen years; living twenty-four months without having you as close to him as before was the trigger to make the myung open his eyes to the reality he tried to ignore so badly. all he ever wanted was for you to actually pay attention to the lyrics he wrote, to understand that everything you needed to have your heart in a safe and respectful place was to give it to him; ever since he was fourteen years old, jaehyun’s birthday wish when blowing the candles was always the same: for you to love him the same way he loved you. despite the depth and complexity of his feelings, the singer decided to keep it cool for a little longer; the last thing he wanted at that moment was to unconsciously push you away by bombarding you with all the words bottled up inside his heart since the very first day.

“so how’s school?” he asked once the waiter left you two alone after taking your orders. genuine concern and interest filled every word that came out of your best friend’s mouth, as there was no scenario in this world where jaehyun wouldn’t be worried about you.

you shrugged, looking away. “could be better, to be honest. the classes this last semester were three times harder than the previous one… it caught me off-guard.”

the kind-eyed man offered comfort with his speech, which warmed your heart a little bit more: no matter how much time passed or how much jaehyun changed his appearance, he was still the clumsy kid you met at kindergarten and defended from the other mean boys. in an attempt to take your mind off the stress that tool such a heavy tool on you, he playfully asked if at least there was anyone interesting in that fancy university you got yourself into — even though there was also shy and scared anticipation of his part towards your answer, as the thought of you, his muse, his best friend, his soulmate, being in love with someone who didn’t know you nearly as well as he did or that was willing to go the extra mile for you like he was, made his heart sink. even more so when you nodded.

“i mean, yeah… but it’s not going well. at least not like it used to. i haven’t talked to him in over a week or so, since we had this major argument and i needed to catch a break from that behaviour.”

myung watched uneasily when you played with your fingers, trying to escape his gaze. “why didn’t you tell me that, dove?”

“i didn’t want to trouble you with my petty problems, jaehyun. you need to focus on the band and making it out of here.”

when finally your eyes met his dark ones, the musician felt his blood freeze for a second. there was something different in the way you were looking at him, something he wasn’t used to suddenly was making those marvellous eyes of yours look a thousand times more special than normal. myung jaehyun couldn’t tell right there and then — because he was petrified by his own tornado of thoughts and feelings — but your cheeks were burning with a pink shade of embarrassment, only it was because you didn’t really know what to say or do as this was the first time you met your best friend after admitting to yourself that those feelings of care and affection towards him were due to something a lot stronger than just friendship.

“c’mon, y/n… you could never trouble me, dove.” jaehyun chuckled and took your hands between his with such gentleness that your heart began to race faster than any race car. “i’m here for you, okay?”

the following couple of hours went flying by like those leaves in the wind outside the café. your mind was blank and your thoughts, numb, as you tried as hard as you could to not let it show just how confused you were with everything taking over your judgement towards that friendship. you were scared to ruin it and you were terrified of the idea of not having jaehyun around anymore because of something dumb or did or said; but at the same time, much like him although you didn’t know it, your heart ached just from imagining what it would be like if you jumped off that cliff and confessed your feelings.

before you even realised it, the both of you were outside. the hot coffee from before didn’t really do much to keep you from feeling a shiver down your spine as a stronger breeze hit you colder than the ones from before; instead, jaehyun’s embrace felt like a personal fireplace. you couldn’t help but smile with that comparison, but even more so when he asked if would like to see what the studio looked like — with such invitation, the myung hoped it would create a nice setting for him to show you the newest song he wrote. if destiny decided that was the last melody jaehyun were to play to you, then he would do so with an undying smile.

the place was a little dark: deeper shades of brown and grey all around the walls and furniture but the acoustic panels were black and the only form of lighting came either from the computer screens and mixing consoles or from the few led lights on the ceiling above you. it smelled like cigarettes and scented candles in there, but you were too mesmerized by the fact of being in a recording studio for the first time in your life to pay attention to such details. as for jaehyun, he thought the studio was too small, too simple for you to be this enchanted by it, but your excitement brought joy to his heart and it felt like this was heaven for him; you with him in the one place he worked so hard to make his dream come true was what life should be like. this felt natural, and he only prayed that after that night, it would truly be like that forever.

“do you like it, dove?” the brunette asked, biting his lower lip while playing with his ear piercings.

“it’s so cool, hyun! look at all this stuff! what does this button do?” with sparkling eyes, you sat by the mixing consoles and bombarded your friend with a thousand questions per second. laughing, he only shrugged and rested his weight on the headrest above you.

“i don’t really know. taesan knows more about this than i do, i just stick with the guitar.” liar. jaehyun loved to produce as well, but he didn’t want to sound cocky to you so he decided to hold his tongue.

before the boy could say anything to keep you from pressing any buttons you didn’t know what they were for, your finger gently hit one of those and it triggered a recording from the night before. jaehyun had forgotten about it, but before leaving the studio, he didn’t delete the recording of him playing the acoustic guitar and singing the first song he had ever written about you; as the words came out on the speakers, the shame and fear paralyzed him so badly the guitarist couldn’t even stop it from playing anymore. his eyes were closed shut and he didn’t see how a smile took over your lips, that grew with every note because your mind was interpreting the lyrics and you understood what the song was about.

butterflies started a rampage on your stomach and your hands covered your face out of shyness, but the reality was that you felt like the teen version of yourself all over again in a matter of minutes.

“it’s beautiful, jae” you whispered by the time the song ended and you tried as hard as you could not to cry. “tell me about it”

those big, brown eyes you knew like the palm of your hand now stared at you with a feeling you had never seen before. you could feel every breath that escaped your lungs, every beat of your heart pounding against your chest, and every droplet of sweat that ran down your temples like a mustang crossing the grasslands. the entire universe had stopped for that brief moment to watch what would become of these two best friends who were exhausted of hiding their true feelings for one another; with jaehyun’s eyes tracing every little inch of your angel-like face, the repeating recording in the background was nothing compared to the symphony of two unaware hearts colliding into each other. how could you know he felt this way? how come jaehyun never did anything to show you the love prints engraved inside his heart god knew how long? worse than that: why didn’t you see your own feelings before?

“i can’t… i’ve waited too long to say this and now i can’t. i can’t say it with you looking at me like that, dove.” he whispered back and with a trembling hand, touched your face with just his thumb, scared that the roughness on the skin of his hand could scar a perfect face like yours. tears were forming in his eyes as the frustration of being incapable of confessing everything to the love of his life consumed jaehyun on the inside.

“then i’ll say it first: i love you, myung jaehyun.”

caressing his puffy red cheeks, the loving words slipped out of your mouth with such ease it scared you for a quick moment but as you repeated them back to him like a mantra, bringing his face closer to yours every time you did, the weight that had been destroying your shoulders and crushing your heart for the past year was finally gone and all you could think of was how gentle of a soul the boy you fell in love with had.

“i’ve loved you since the very first day, dove… i’ve waited fifteen years to be honoured with the privilege of being the one holding your heart. i swear i won’t ever drop it. your heart is safe with me, your love is safe with me.”

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Five

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count:  1531

Warnings: reader learning archer, sassy bjorn, emotionally complex ivar, threats, time travel, drinking, hangover

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Masterlist Here

Last night had been the first truly relaxing nights of your stay so far. You drank, sang guitar round a campfire on the beach, learned some Viking songs and tall tales, and now woke up with a splitting hangover. “Time to get up,” Ubbe said as he opened the door.

You just grumbled in response, pulling the covers further over your head. You heard sighing then footsteps then suddenly felt the shivering cold. Ubbe stood grinning over your, “Revenge,” he grinned down at you, offering you a hand.

“Die,” you grumbled, burying your head into the pillow.

You could hear laughter from the door, “Finally becoming one of us,” Ivar, you think, laughed.

“Or worse. she’s becoming like you,” Sigurd’s teasing led to more cursing, some thuds, and Ubbe running to split up some kind of fight as you sat up in bed. This was going to be a long day.

-

“Why do I need to learn this?” you whined as Hvitserk helped you load an arrow onto your bow.

“Well if you like to eat you need to learn how to shoot,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd leant against a tree to watch your struggles. Ivar was sat just a few feet away on a cut down tree.

all boys were noticeably behind you as they watched the arrow sink into a tree three feet from your target. Hvitserk helped you load another arrow before making the mistake of joking to a very hungover, very fed-up woman. “How are you getting worse?”

You huffed, spinning around still holding the bow making all the boys duck. Even Hvitserk jumped away, “Watch where you point that thing!” Sigurd said, hands covering his face.

“Scared of some little girl?” Ivar laughed. Though it stopped when you turned the arrow at him. He held his hands in the air in mock defence, “I thought we were friends,”

“Don’t test me,” you grumbled, turning back to the target. “This was so much easier on the Wii,”

“What’s a Wii?” you sighed as the four asked in unison. Instead of answering you ignored them, rolling your shoulders back before taking aim again. Breathe in, breathe out, and release.

Thud. The arrow hit the edge of the target. “You’ll get there- “Ubbe tried to speak but you cut him off.

“I did it!” you almost screamed, jumping up and down. “Ha take that!” you said, thrusting the bow up like you’d won the Olympics making the boys laugh.

“Please if we were hunting not only would you scare away the deer, but you only would’ve shot his ankle,” Hvitserk said, as he pulled out another arrow for you to use.

You rolled your eyes as you loaded it yourself this time, all be it with a slight struggle without his wins, “Don’t you guys ever celebrate the small victories?”

“What’s the point of that?” Ubbe asked with all seriousness.

“For motivation? To be happy?” you said, like it was the most obvious thing as you lined up your shot. Breathe in and release. “See!” you said, the arrow now slightly closer to the centre than before, “Positive thinking gets you places,”

“Yeah, like the bottom of a pile of dead bodies,” Ivar chortled.

You turned around with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Would you like to be one of them?”

A small smirk formed on his face as the other boys laughed. You felt Hvitserk place his arm over your shoulder, “Oh you’ll fit in nicely soon enough,”

-

By the end of archery practise you were now able to hit the target each time. Not the centre but still. Progress was there. Then it was there turn to do their real practising. Watching Ivar hit the bullseye with his axe each time as he glared at Sigurd made you thankful guns weren’t invented here. You almost told them about them but even if they were nice to you, you didn’t need to give them anymore ideas.

By the time you got back to Kattegat the sun was beginning to set and dinner was nearly ready. Bjorn joined you once again. Apparently, this was unusual for the Ironborn however it was Hvitserk who told you this and you quickly learned he was a massive gossip. Not that you were complaining. However thankfully for you Ragnar and Aslaug were not joining you. Its not that you didn’t like them, but Ragnar asked you a million question while she had a way of staring through your sole.

Somehow you ended up between him and Ivar and any time someone told a story your legend you didn’t understand he was quick to whisper in your ear. “What lies are you telling her brother?” Bjorn, who was sat across from you, asked as he was telling a story of his latest travels.

“That you truly are as tough as you look,” Hvitserk smirked. Despite not having Ivar’s rage or Sigurd’s instigation, Hvitserk was clearly able to hold his own.

Bjorn hummed disapprovingly before turning back to you, “How unfortunate you travel all this way to be stuck with these fools,” he said, glancing round the table, “Not a real man among them,”

“Maybe,” you said, deciding if you were going to be surrounded by argumentative Vikings you may as well try fit in, “Or maybe we have a different definition of a real man,”

“And what would your definition be?” he asked, putting his elbows on the table, and leaning in closer.

His eyes were locked on yours, so you decided instead to let yours look him up and down before sitting back, “Why? Do you need some lessons on how to be one?”

The younger Ragnorsson’s sniggered while Ubbe watched the whole scene carefully. Your eyes stayed locked on Bjorn’s until he sat back in his chair with a smile, “There’s hope for you yet, little one,” he said before dropping the smile, “Though I don’t recommend questioning me again,” The sight made your blood run cold but you did your best to smile, bringing a cup of wine to your lips as the meal soon continued.

-

Somehow you managed to escape from the brothers while they were distracted by finding a new crate of ale. While drinking wasn’t exactly restricted in university, they drank like it was a sport and there was no way you could keep up.

Even though you now wore a Vikings dress and apron there was some things from home you couldn’t let go of; modern underwear and sleeping in a comfy t-shirt. It was the one you had arrived in though admittedly you were going to have to wash it and your other clothes soon. The issue was that meant asking one of the brothers where or how to wash it and you had no desire for them to see these items. Well not yet at least.

 When you got back to your room you slipped out the starched dress and into the soft cotton shirt and got under your furs about to sleep. Before you could however the door opened. “Ivar?”

“My brothers bore me,” he sighed as he crawled over to your bed. You pulled the furs slightly closer, realising you only had the t-shirt on as your cheeks flushed. Ivar took no notice as he pulled himself up to sit beside you, “You were the only interesting one there,”

“A little flattery goes a long way,” you said but he quirked his head at that, “It’s an expression where I’m from,”

“Is flattery not a good thing?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Depends. My professor told me flattery and insults raise the same question; what do you want? Though I think he stole that from someone,”

“Well, all I want is your company,” he answered and at rare moments when you were alone Ivar didn’t look blood thirsty and terrifying. In fact, he seemed kind of gentle as he let a small smile escape. You couldn’t help letting out a light laugh, “Though I don’t understand how someone can steal words,”

Again, you shrugged, “I guess our people just value different things,” you said as a silence washed over you both.

After a few moments Ivar broke it, “I don’t think so. I think, deep down, all we all want is to be safe,” he said it quietly, as if he was worried someone may eaves drop.

It broke your heart a little though, “I suppose but I would’ve said happy,”

“Happy is a dangerous emotion,” he said, staring off into the distance, “everyone craves it, so they chase it, but they assume there is only so much of it to go around so they steal it. I do not need to be happy. Just content,”

You weren’t sure why you grabbed his hand, but you gave it a soft squeeze. His cheeks tinged pink, but you pretended not to notice, “I think content is a different kind of happy. Maybe if we were all so content with it, we could all be happy,”

“Maybe,”

“It’s a dangerous word,” you said.

Ivar snorted, “How can a word be dangerous?”

“How can happiness be?” you shot back with a small smile.

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