#i am perhaps starting to suspect that i need. . help

[beelzzzebub]

i have got to go to sleep

[tender-rosiey]

Since your requests are open I'll help myself 😋 Gojo's wife starts to have morning sicknesses, so she suspects that she's pregnant. She takes a test and finds out that she actually is pregnant. Would u please write gojo's reaction when his wife tells his that he's gonna be a daddy? 🥺💕 thanks you, please feed us with your delicious writing!!!

Also if you're not feeling well then please ignore this. Take care! Mwah^•^♡

weight — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I hope you like this, luv 🥺💕 thank you so much for your kind words and take care of yourself as well! many kisses and hugs 🫶

“shoko, I need a place to hide!” you say, bursting into the infirmary. you take the small moment of shock that shoko is in to take a much needed breath.

“what did you do this time?”

you wordlessly raise the pregnancy test with slightly shaky hands and upon seeing it, shoko drops the poor sandwich she was eating. you close the door behind you before sitting down next her.

she smiles, “nice, I am going to be an aunt,” then she looks at you confused, “why are you hiding though?”

“I need time to figure out how I will tell him or more like—“ you look at the ceiling, “face him. he will probably figure everything out with his six eyes, but I don’t know how he will react,” you wrap your arms around yourself and shoko sighs.

“you guys didn’t talk about it yet?” she stands up and goes to get you a warm drink.

you gently rock yourself, “satoru already…has so much on his shoulders,” you bury your face in your arms, “I don’t want to add to that.”

she places the mug in front of you, “you do know that he got into this relationship willingly, right? you didn’t hold him at gunpoint or anything…or did you?”

you lightly punch her shoulders, but you take the mug, muttering a small thanks, “if anyone was held at gunpoint then it would be me.”

shoko chuckles and pats your head, “you need to be able to face him, y/n. he will find out anyway, and personally, I think you should have faith in his reaction more than that,” you lock eyes, “you know him more than anyone else, after all.”

your gaze falls to your drink. its surface is so still until you softly blow and it ripples, calm the chaos.

what if you don’t know satoru as much as you thought? what if having a kid will scare him away?  as the strongest, your husband has so much on his mind 24/7. will he be able to handle a baby as well?

while a part of you tells you that your husband is no coward nor is he so fragile, the other can’t help but think that perhaps this love story of 12 years will reach its end, a very tragic end even.

with the creation of a new life, ends a lifetime of feelings and events.

you snap out of your thoughts when you notice shoko shooing you into the closet room.

you hear the door open and you have a guess who it is. he makes himself known anyway, “shoko,  have you seen y/n?”

shoko quirks an eyebrow and gojo huffs, “okay, fine, I know she is here, but is she mad at me? did I do something?”

you have a feeling that he is looking directly at your eyes even through the closet’s door as he speaks, “y/n, I will take you out anywhere. I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. I hate when you’re upset with me, sweets.”

he is frowning lightly as he stares at the closet with hope. shoko sighs before walking out of the room, but not without patting his shoulder.

the door closes and satoru speaks up again, “can you please come out so we can at least talk about it?”

he hears your sigh and beams when you finally get out of the room, “there is my pretty girl.”

he has a flower bouquet in hand and he is looking at you so intently, but you don’t think he noticed the life growing inside of you now. he is far too focused on making you forgive him for whatever he did. you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

your hand moves and finally rests on your stomach.

his brows furrow lightly before his eyes widen. satoru’s breath hitches just like it did during your wedding. he places the bouquet aside before looking quickly between your eyes and stomach, “you are…”

you grip your own hands, nodding. tears start forming in your eyes till they finally fall and cries are what he sees now. your knees give out on you and you fall to the ground, now sobbing.

you are looking at the ground as you cry and hug yourself tighter, bracing yourself for whatever is coming.

satoru, almost instantly, finds himself on his knees in front of you.

his arms, like it’s second nature, pull you close into a warm and secure hug, “hey, hey,” he pats your back, a little clumsily, “if you don’t want it then it’s fine. you know I care about you the most,” his voice shakes a bit, “don’t cry please, you’re breaking my heart—“

“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” you repeat a mantra of the same phrase as you pull him even closer. satoru cups your face and the moment you’re met with the pair of blue eyes you love so much, you break down more, “I know you—probably don’t want it but—“

he tilts his head, utterly confused and maybe even offended, “what are you talking about? of course, I want it!”

the room is silent for a moment as you process what he says. it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you let out a shaky breath as you look down at your hands.

satoru rests his forehead on your own. his voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he speaks, “it’s our baby.”

the content smile on his face is almost unreal, “why in the world would you think that I wouldn’t want it anyway?” and somehow the pout on his face assures you even more.

your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you rest your head on his shoulder, “it’s just—I thought it would be burdening you with yet another responsibility. you have the world on top of your shoulders. how am I better than anyone if I weigh down even if it’s a different type of weight.”

“is it a weight for you?” he asks, voice hushed.

“of course not! I want—“ you answer immediately.

“there is your answer,” he chuckles and you look at his face once again.

you notice that he is tearing up. your satoru is tearing up, and the blindfold isn’t there to hide it nor are the glasses.

his eyes never leave yours as he says, with no waver on his voice, “I would pick you over everything else, every single time and in every single universe, silly girl.”

“you should know that already,” he flicks your forehead but the smile never leaves his face.

a soft laugh tumbles out of his lips as he pulls you in for a big bear hug, his form completely engulfing your own.

he fills tears stain his shirt, but he can only focus on your smile he feels on his skin and the fact that he voice out loud, “I will be a dad,” he sighs with contentment.

“and it’s all because of you,” he raises your face and nuzzles your noses together making you giggle, “we're going to be parents, you sweet pretty thing.”

satoru’s lips find themselves on your own in one very sweet and loving kiss. it’s soft, light, and gentle. yet it conveys all the words that he can’t get out at the moment.

when you pull away slightly, he quickly pulls you back for another, “I love you so much.”

he places a hand on your stomach, “and you too.”

“but don’t think I will share mama with you,” he sticks his tongue out at it, “she is mine!”

the baby is not even out of the womb, and yet he is already bickering with it.

you laugh and your chest feel so light. you kiss his cheek and his pout turns into a grin almost immediately. you hum, “infinity and beyond?”

his hand holds your own and he caresses your ring, “infinity and beyond.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[tbgkaru-woh]

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

[moonstruckme]

hi!! first of all, i am a frequent reader(???) of your blog because your writing is immaculate and you seem so sweet and fun to talk to you, thank you so much for all the work that you do

second of all, i really hope your request are indeed open so that i am not spamming you🫶 in case they are closed, i am so very sorry and freely ignore this

I was wondering if i could request a little reader x either james or if the spark comes to do poly! i will NEVER say no to that lmao, where the reader seemingly out of nowhere starts feeling down, voicing that she doesn't think she's a good person? because she thought of all the friendships and extremely close people that left her and she just feels hurts and confused?

need some hurt/comfort rn, i know i am a little mean, and probably not the nicest person out there, but thinking of all the failed friendships/folks that i loved so dearly makes me feel like perhaps i am not a good person and that thought plagues me a bit ng

either way, thank you so much in advance, i hope you are well, getting to take care of yourself and have a lovely rest of day, evening of whenever you are reading this!

Thanks for requesting honey, love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James is talking to you about the movie he wants to go see, and if you were a better girlfriend—if you were better, period—you’d be listening, chipping in occasionally but mostly just letting him talk with the same adoring attentiveness he always gives you. But instead, you’re still stuck in the pub you’d left a few minutes ago, watching the surprise play over Sirius’ features. The flash of something you suspect might have been hurt in his cool gray eyes before he covered it up with skillful quickness. 

“And whatever I say, I can’t seem to lure the boys to another sci fi film,” James goes on, “so I’m afraid you might be conscripted for that one.” 

“Okay.” 

“Really?” The disbelief in James’ voice brings you back to attention. “I thought you’d have more qualms after that last one.”

You did swear to James that he’d never be dragging you to another of his nerd movies again. But maybe this is your opportunity to turn over a new leaf. “You want to see it, right?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then we’ll go.” 

The two of you walk under a streetlight, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend’s skeptical expression. “You’re really alright with it? We can go see that new rom com instead, if you want.” 

See, this is the problem with being around James. He’s so, so good. It makes you seem even worse in contrast. And he makes it impossible to be selfless, because he always has to be the most giving person in any situation. It makes you want to cry from both love and frustration. 

“Let’s just go to the one you want to see,” you say, and despite your best intentions the words come out with a slight edge. 

“Alright,” he says slowly. Now you can feel his eyes on you, your own gaze vaguely ahead as you keep pace alongside him on the sidewalk. You live in a more shadowy part of town, but the clouds obscuring the moon make the darkness complete. James’ voice is tentative. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You chew your bottom lip. “Do you think I upset Sirius earlier?”

“You mean that joke you made?” It doesn’t help your anxiety that he knows exactly what you mean. No chance it flew completely under everyone else’s radar, then. “No, he was fine.” 

“You don’t think he looked…I don’t know, shocked? Like his feelings were hurt?” 

James’ gaze burns into the side of your head, but you won’t look at him. “No, angel. I think your sense of humor can be a little…” he fumbles for the right word, and a worm of unease writhes in your gut “...brash, sometimes, but Sirius is made for that stuff. The last person you’re going to offend with that is him. He gets it.” 

You sigh and nod, doing your best to convince yourself he’s telling the truth. 

“Hey.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear you thinking.” 

“I just don’t really know if I’m a good person.” 

Your voice is quiet, but you know James hears you perfectly. His steps actually fumble for a second, like he might stop in his tracks. 

“Of course you are,” he says. “I mean—listen, of course I would lie to you even if you weren’t, though I guess we probably wouldn’t be together if I thought you were a bad person, but—anyway, you are. You are a good person.” 

You force a laugh, ignoring how your throat contracts around it. “Sorry. I know you’d lie to make me feel better, Jamie. You’re too nice.” 

“I would,” James acknowledges, following as you go up the front steps to your apartment and dig around in your bag for your key. “But I’m not right now.” He ducks his head as you twist your key in the lock, jockeying for a view of your face. “Sweetheart, why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you step inside. You set your keys down on the table by the door and knead at your chest, but it does nothing to relieve the hollow ache forming there. 

“Yeah you do,” James says softly, hot on your tail. “I know you, you don’t just say these things. Come on.” He takes your shoulders in his hands, trapping you, and you drop your gaze to avoid meeting his eyes. (You know how that goes. They make you feel all soft and melty and get you to talk and talk and talk.) “I can’t be fully honest with you if you’re not honest with me,” he says. 

“I just know—I know I can be really mean sometimes.” Your voice cracks on mean, and James tightens his grip on you, holding you together while you crumble. The pressure in your throat is hot and thick, but it feels so good to cry. Like your outsides finally match your insides. “I want to be better but I don’t know how.” 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds like heartbreak. His hands slide from your shoulders, wrapping around your upper back and squeezing painfully. “Darling, you don’t need to be better. Or, not more than anyone else. You’re already a good person.”

You make a miserable choked sound, frustrated with him for only telling you what you want to hear and frustrated with yourself for not knowing better.

“You are,” he says, half desperate. “Know how I know?”

You take your face from his shoulder, eyeing guiltily the glossy wetness of your tears and snot on his jumper. James takes your face in a big hand, finally succeeding in angling it towards him. 

He’s giving you a little smile despite his own watery eyes and the deep crinkle between his brows. He takes your look as enough prompting to go on. 

“Because bad people don’t worry about if they’re good people, angel.” The words are emphatic, beseeching. Begging you to understand. “They don’t try to do the right thing. You being worried about Sirius is just proof that you care. Do you think a bad person would get themselves so worked up” —he thumbs at the wet skin underneath your eye, smiling thinly— “over whether they’re being too mean? That just doesn’t happen, love.” 

You swallow thickly, letting James press a solid kiss to your temple. He holds your face between his hands like you’re something special. Something worth having. 

“I wouldn’t be with someone who was always being actually mean to my friends,” he tells you, voice dropping into a lower register. You know he’s being sincere. James would never let anything happen to Sirius or Remus, certainly not by someone he’d brought into their orbit. “But we all know you don’t mean anything cruel by the things you say. It can be a little…” 

“Brash?” you supply, and James smiles. 

“Yeah,” he admits, “sometimes. Anyone who knows you doesn’t take it personally, though. You’re kind in your own way, it’s just not always what people are used to.” James tilts his head, assessing your expression and giving you full view of the earnestness in his in turn. “You’re a good person, sweetheart. And please don’t worry about being that kind of mean to Sirius, alright? He can take it.”

[krowlovesinazuma]

Alright, first request of mine on this blog:

Working from the prologue, how would Yae Miko, Ei, and Kirara react when they first see you?

(Non-related to the request, but I bet I'm gonna be the only one here that's not an Anon haha)

Oh nice, my first request! I'll do these separately, and in headcanons! Also, perhaps, but we'll see if this blog becomes popular or not hehe :3

Read this prologue for context!

Scenario: Meeting reader after he appears in Teyvat

Characters: Yae Miko, Ei, Kirara

Once she catches sight of someone without clothes from Teyvat out of nowhere, she's the first to make a logical connection to the divine, and take you somewhere safe. She won't ask many questions, not until she can ensure that the two of you are nice and private.

While in the outside she might look composed and serious, inside she's definitely nervous. She hasn't been in the presence of someone of such divine nature apart from Ei in so long, and she needs to ensure both your safety and well-being.

Once she sees you being receptive to her commands though, and calm once you're in the safety of her closed off shrine however, she relaxes, and begins asking questions, to ensure her assumptions of course. She can't get too carried away yet, even if you do know her name, and recognized her at first sight...

You've never seen Miko with such a serious glint in her eye apart from the archon quest, and seeing it up close is, frankly, a little terrifying. You don't know how it happened, or why you're here at all, so you can't help but worry.

That's when she catches sight of your golden blood, and you can see her eyes starting to sparkle with excitement, her shoulders relaxing from their tense posture, and her tail starting to sway more freely...

"... I'm sorry, oh divine one... Hm, no titles? Very well. I couldn't be sure of what I saw, not when I've seen my fair share of trickery and deceit through the centuries... I promise, you have my full trust now. Now, let's put that stuffy atmosphere behind us."

Let's be honest, Ei hasn't seen much of the present Teyvat, and as such has lost a grip on the culture, especially foreign culture. So when she sees your clothing, she imagines that you're just a traveler. Perhaps she should make a proper first appearance...

As soon as she approaches however, you exclaim her name with happiness, which she immediately causes her to do a second take. How did you know about her name, and not her title? Her eyes shrink, and her mind becomes easily confused.

That's when you show the golden drops of blood, and Ei's mind explodes. All this time, she believed that she would never get a chance to see you in a physical form, and you can see her eyes shaking with so many emotions...

She takes you away to the Plane of Euthymia, for your own safety she says, but as there's the tiniest shaking in her voice, you can't help but suspect it's actually to help her calm down and have some private time with you.

You have to be a little patient with her. There's so much going on in her mind from all those years she's been alive and has only been able to confide in Miko, and she knows you've learnt about it through the others. You wait for her to calm down, and sometimes, even tell her to take deep breaths before continuing.

Once she's calm though, she'll get right to business, thinking about a way to keep you safe, and cared for, while ensuring that the rest of Inazuma is aware of your descent. After all, what better way to revitalize her region than showing her the truth in their beliefs?

"You... Are alright with these arrangements, correct? Very well, then it's settled. Once again, welcome to Inazuma, the land that has never once forgotten you... I'm glad you show such enthusiasm, and frankly, I think I am just as excited."

Kirara probably caught sight of you as she was stretching herself before another delivery. She's quite busy, so it's easier for her to focus on others once off the clock. Once she sees you though, she can't help but be a little cautious, yet curious.

In all of the regions she's visited for deliveries, she's never seen clothing like yours... Soon enough, she's slowly creeping up on you, eager to see who exactly you were! Her steps are quite silent, so it isn't exactly hard to do so.

Much like Ei, she starts talking to you as if you were just a foreigner, but just like Miko, she starts asking a lot of questions! Hers are more casual than the kitsune's however, with an excited pep to her voice.

When you show her the golden drops of blood, at first she's confused, and doesn't make the immediate connection to the rumors of the creator, thanks to them being only present in Inazuma, and her not spending much time there thanks to work.

Once she does however, she lets out the loudest gasp you've heard ever, and her eyes sparkle intensely! Her questions immediately double in speed and amount, and you have to calm her down, which can be a little complicated once she gets into another tangent.

Once she stops, she realizes that since you're from another realm, you must not have a home in Inazuma! So she decides to take you back to her home for the time being, so you may feel free to leave anytime!

"Ah, I wasn't really expecting any guests anytime soon, but you can have the spare room! Now, I won't be here much, but I promise I'll try to take less orders for now!... Unless you want me to take a vacation for you?"

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ohhh, Sometimes women's breast get clogged up with milk, könig would use this as the perfect opportunity to be close to you and massage your chest to help, he's just so sweet helping you out like that.😊

Omg omg omg of course he’d help her!!!

CW: Postpartum phase, children, light angst, breast stimulation, yandere undertones.

König has become soft ever since the baby was born.

You read somewhere that men's testosterone levels suffer a significant drop after they become fathers, which perhaps explains why he looks like a melting marshmallow in hot cocoa these days. König's stare has always followed you wherever you go but now that you're carrying his child in your arms, the looks he gives you are far more… benevolent. You suspect he must be proud of you, first carrying the baby for nine long months and then suffering an arduous birth - because of course this titan's baby weighed over 8 pounds - and now you're giving your everything to the soft little thing König calls "his kleine Butterblume."

You're in a baby bubble together, but not all days are heavenly and sweet. And now, on top of everything else, your breast is clogged. The lady at the maternity clinic told you this is a common issue and can easily be dealt with at home, but the instructions you received left you staring off into space for a few moments.

Later that evening, the problem is still very much acute, and you're getting desperate.

When you go to König and beg him to help you, there is a sharp intake of breath just before he nods. An odd striptease show ensues in silence: you're puffy and swollen and sore, you feel like a wreck as you take off your shirt and bra. König has always referred to you as a flower or a heavenly being, but now, you must resemble a sullen bloom at the end of July. Overblown and weary, heavy and plush, petals pouting, falling if someone were to touch them.

You feel like crying from seeing that König still worships you with his stare. If anything, he seems to approve of the extra pounds and your devastated state, only looks you up and down with boundless hunger, silent but with a heaving chest. When you're bare, he rises, and you're turned around and pulled in a stout embrace. Large, warm hands land over your poor, aching breasts, and you quickly remind him to be gentle - the instructions were to pet the breasts like you would a cat. He rumbles a dark laugh against your back, and then the hands start to massage you, blessedly soft but imperious.

Your sighs grow heavy and weary. It hurts a little, but the relief is imminent. Your head rolls back to rest on the mountain of his chest, and then you begin to sob.

You let it all come out as a series of soft, sad little whines: how tired you are, how the baby is far more work than you thought, how your breasts hurt all the time and how you don't even know if you're doing things right. How you just want to sleep…

He rubs you through your breakdown, and it's soothing to be held by someone as strong as König… But then he pants a hot wish in your ear.

"I thought we'd soon make another one..."

"Mh, wha–another one?"

"Ja, sicher. We must make three or four at least. Oder?"

You are about to collapse, about to faint, but can't because a demigod is keeping you from falling.

"Don't worry little lily. I know you need to rest first. I'll wait a few more weeks."

"König–"

You shudder as his thumbs brush over your nipples.

"Am I doing it right?" He asks with a low, soft purr.

Your mind is in disarray, a trophy from not getting enough sleep for months, and you're tired of struggling against his indomitable will. First things first, you think, stuffing the earlier conversation somewhere into the recesses of your exhausted mind.

"Um. The lady said you should–that you could… try to suck them too," you breathe with unease.

"Ist das so?"

You're moved to the bed before you can even whimper.

...Is he so eager to do this?

Of course he is; you haven't had sex in months. He's only had his own calloused hand to keep him company, and you've been too tired to even think about such things. Your body has become a stranger to you, and when he moves to crawl on top of you, it only looks like the prowl of an apex predator.

The coarse stubble of his chin makes you flinch – it's like an array of tiniest daggers caressing your breasts. When he takes your aching nipple into his warm mouth, you shudder. It feels utterly different to have a grown man sucking on your tits; it's ten times more demanding, a hundred times more intense when the man in question is König. The hunger, the overstimulation, the exhaustion make your head spin, his mouth and tongue force you to release your stress in shakes. Before you even know it, there are tears streaming down your face.

He doesn't stop. Probably thinks it's only a good thing that you get it all out of your system. He must feel good about himself for making you cry while lapping and sucking at your breasts, he rubs, licks, and nibs until you're sniffling and wailing on that bed.

"Little angel… I've never been this hard," he pants on your slathered, slick nipple. "Do you know what it does to a man to look but never touch?"

Your tiny, weary heart is flapping against its cage. "König, we can't make another one… I can't, I can't, not yet…"

"Ah… But if I promise I'll pull out?"

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Welcome!

This is your official-unofficial source for all things SVSSS fanon-debunking! As a veteran reader of MXTX's least popular novel and someone with a PhD in SVSSS literature, I have taken on the arduous task of separating fact from fiction... or well, specifically, canon from fanon.

《 Disclaimer: The purpose of this blog is textual analysis, not to tell people what fanon or canon material to use or not to use in their fanworks, or to make moral judgments on the way people interpret the text. Please see my faq and psa tags for more about my views on the matter. 》

There is a significant affliction within this fandom, where fanon ideas are assumed to be canonical facts-- to the point where sometimes fanon will even end up on the official SVSSS wiki 😱😱😱!!!

I've met quite a lot of people who are surprised to find out that something they think is canon is actually fanon, and even a few that are the other way around, so I've decided to start this blog to help people sort it out!

My credentials and qualifications are as follows:

PhD in SVSSS literature (awarded to me by a disgruntled SJ apologist).

A good minimum of 50-75% of available brain-space devoted to SVSSS at all times

Consummate knowledge of minute lore details

Near-memorization of a good portion of the novel, with the added ability to find any quote within 10 minutes of searching (in both EN and CN)

Author of a fic that is currently over 300k words long and counting, which was originally written out of spite for fanon portrayals of certain characters and themes

The ability to write 5k+ rants about any given topic in the space of an afternoon

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How this blog works:

You, dear reader, send in a suspected fanon topic to my askbox. Or perhaps it's something you suspect to be canon, but would like confirmation on.

I will then write a post on this topic (on no set schedule, I go as the wind takes me~), first applying a rating (more details below), then adding further information as needed. Topics with either support or rebuttal in canon will have quoted evidence presented, those without either of those things will simply have a brief explanation.

I will also add some analysis or potential interpretations and readings but I will do my best not to add my pure opinions to these posts-- this blog is about textual evidence! So, do not reblog my posts to argue with me based on your headcanons! If you want to argue against one of my posts, provide a quoted source from the novel!

Otherwise, I will most likely block you :>

Any hateful content or attempts to start fandom wank on my posts or in my inbox will get deleted and blocked. Anyone who provides textual evidence that changes my rating or analysis will be very much appreciated and receive the Golden Cucumber Award.

At the end of the day, this blog is entirely about canonical textual analysis and has no bearing whatsoever on what people want to headcanon or use in their fics. It's fandom. Do Whatever You Want Forever. Who am I to say you can't use a certain headcanon?

Just please treat headcanons as headcanons. No matter how deeply-entrenched into fanon they may be, they're still not canon and shouldn't be treated as such.

If you're of the mind that you'll still do whatever you want without regards for canon, then you're probably not the intended audience for this blog. If you're someone who wants to clarify whether a popular idea has a basis in canon or not, then read on to learn more about the rating system and see already-discussed topics!

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Rating System

WHAT DO I CONSIDER CANON? (please read before commenting)

Each exposed fanon or canon will receive a rating and analysis. The ratings are interpreted as follows:

CANON - This fact is directly or indirectly supported by the text! If you want to stay true to canon, this should be treated as fact.

FANON - SUPPORTED - Though the text doesn't directly state this is true, it is a very likely interpretation based on various factors including historical precedent and cultural norms, genre tropes, and the occam's razor principle.

FANON - NEUTRAL - The text neither confirms or denies this. It may be true or it may be false, and the matter is entirely up for interpretation. Many fanon will likely fall into this category, and whether you adopt it or not won't affect how true to canon your interpretations are.

FANON - UNSUPPORTED - While the text may not be directly against this headcanon, it is still an unlikely interpretation based on various factors including historical precedent and cultural norms, genre tropes, and the occam's razor principle.

FANON - CONFLICTING - The text goes directly against this interpretation, and there are quotes that prove it to be incorrect. If you wish to stay true to canon, it's best not to include this idea.

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Awards:

I will give out three awards on this blog for those who assist me in keeping fanon and canon separate!

The Bronze Cucumber Award will be given to anyone who reblogs my post and adds significant additional context in support of/explaining my analysis. This may be textual context or "support" context (cultural norms/historical precedence/genre tropes/etc.). Since this fandom likes to analyze, I will only be giving out this award to those who specifically add details and ideas that are not rooted in my original analysis (such as, a quote from a completely different part of the book, or a linguistic explanation that provides context), rather than those who simply expand on what I already wrote.

The Silver Cucumber Award will be given to those who reblog one of my analysis posts with a source telling the origin of a particular fanon idea. This is wonderful for archival purposes-- just as it's good to see where canon ideas come from, it can also be helpful to know where a fanon idea originated, in order to have proper context. Only the first responder to provide a fanon origin will receive the award (so that this blog doesn't get too clogged up).

The Golden Cucumber Award will be given to those who reblog one of my posts with a debunking of my analysis-- as long as they provide directly-quoted evidence that disproves my points. This evidence should be based on the text of the novel itself, and I should be able to look it up in my own copy. I will be more selective with giving out golden cucumbers to reblogs that debunk on the basis of "support" elements (cultural norms/historical precedence/genre tropes, etc.) because many of those topics can be somewhat subjective.

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Previously-Tackled Concepts

(See below the cut for a full list)

CANON

CQMS Twelve Peaks' have Color-Coded Uniforms

Shen Yuan has a Younger Sister

Mobei-jun has Blue Eyes

Shen Yuan is a Monster Nerd

Airplane was a Child of Divorced Parents

Ning Yingying is Younger than Luo Binghe

FANON - SUPPORTED

Shen Jiu Only Goes to Brothels to Sleep, Not to Have Sex

Mobei-jun and Shang Qinghua Eventually Get Married

FANON - NEUTRAL

Shen Qingqiu is Banned from Xian Shu Peak

Shen Qingqiu Wears a Cinnabar Mark on his Forehead

Shen Yuan Wore Glasses in his Previous Life

FANON - UNSUPPORTED

Shen Yuan was Chronically/Terminally Ill in his First Life

Shen Yuan was a Socially Awkward, Introverted Shut-In By Nature

Luo Binghe has Curly Hair

Aphrodisiac-Producing Plants are an Ever-Present Danger in the World of PIDW

FANON - CONFLICTING

Ming Fan was Head Disciple of Qing Jing Peak

Luo Binghe Received Both Scars from the Abyss Scene

Qiu Haitang has More than One Older Brother

Shen Qingqiu has Green Eyes

All Demons Naturally have Forehead Marks

Luo Binghe has a "Stereotypically Masculine" Appearance

Xuan Su is a Large, Broad, Imposing-Looking Sword

Shen Yuan's Original Body Closely Resembled Shen Qingqiu's

Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were Meant to End Up Together in the Original Draft of PIDW

CANON EXAMINED

Shen Yuan's PIDW-Reading Timeline

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Hierarchy (tag)

The Pre-Canon Timeline and Character Ages

[inbarfink]

Alrighty, so a second season of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is now Officially Confirmed! I was being very cautious about speculating and getting my hopes up until it was Actually Announced, but now that it has, I can’t say I am necessarily shocked that there is going to be a continuation. Looking back on what we can now confidently call ‘Season 1’, there are a few peculiar threads which seem like they are probably meant as a set up for this second season.

Now, everything in this post is going to be very speculative. This is just me going over aspects of Season 1 which seems weird from a perspective of set-up and payoff or just feel like they need more elaboration and thinking what might be done with them in S2. With basically nothing to go on for what will Actually Happen in Season 2 save for the fact that it will exist, just remember to put a huge caveat of ‘I don’t actually know anything yet!’ next to everything I type lol

Fionnaworld Stuff

I wanna start by talking about the one part of Fionna and Cake’s Season 2 we can be pretty certain about - which is that it’s going to feature Fionna and Cake and probably the rest of the Fionnaworld gang. Although, to be perfectly honest… Right now, I am struggling to think of a clear ‘loose thread’ that can hint at where these characters will go in future. Season 1 seemed to have left everyone fairly content. 

I’m not saying that there’s no place to explore these characters further - obviously I’m sure Season 2 will find whole new unexpected angles to develop them. I’m just saying that Season 1 doesn’t really have any clear threads you can point at as a basis for a prediction. At least nothing I can really see myself. 

Perhaps we can give more focus to the Fionna/Hunter stuff we hinted at during Season 1, but wasn’t really given center stage? Or something about Fionna learning how she can be an adventurer on her own terms, after her Season 1 experiences kinda convinced her she couldn’t at all? Or maybe since Season 1 was kinda Fionna-focused, we’re going to get a more Cake-Focused Season 2?

That’s all I got for now, at least. I guess with ‘Fionna and Cake’ being a very character-focused show, and the idea of a renewal probably not being certain when S1 was developed - it makes sense to prioritize giving a strong sense of closure for the main characters and keep the ‘sequel teasing’ stuff to just Lore/Plot hints. Like, if there’s a little Hint of Things to Come that doesn’t amount to anything because the show got canceled that’s just like a Little Weird, but leaving the main characters’ arcs/relationships feeling unresolved forever would be a much bigger problem for the show’s legacy. And speaking of which…

Prismo Stuff

And here’s the real Interesting Stuff that inspired me to make this post in the first place. I think the most notable potential ‘sequel tease’ in F&C Season 1, the thing I always noted as Odd before the second season was confirmed, the main reason I suspected a second season was probably in the works -  is definitely this little moment with Prismo during the ending…

Where he seems to ‘glitch’ for a moment.

What could this possibly mean? I am not sure, but I feel pretty confident that it’s Plot Relevant. It’s a quick but pretty noticeable Moment that doesn’t really seem to have a clear explanation within the first season, especially as it happens just as everything is wrapping up. Perhaps this is the first sign of Prismo becoming sick/malfunctioning/infected, and Season 2 is going to be about unglitching him?

Speaking of which, going into more character-related stuff… while Prismo's grief-induced-depression-spiral from Jake’s death is constantly hinted at throughout the first season - it’s never really confronted directly. I mean, we can assume that between helping out F&C and having Scarab around as a personal assistant - that could’ve helped him get a new lease on life… But maybe a second season could explore Prismo’s grief more deeply?

And then there are also these two

That’s another thing I always found very peculiar in a “hmm, are they planning on making an S2??” sort of way. Like, they spend a minute-and-a-half establishing the Core and the way it works... when I first watched it I was pretty certain it was going to come back later. Like, Simon is going to try to fuck with Time Itself to get Betty back or something. But then they just… loop back to it. It was just a piece of Lore Trivia and a background for the Actually Lore Relevant Infodump.

It might indeed be just that. Just an extra bit of Worldbuilding and a neat change of scenery in the middle of the chase scene. But I still suspect that these Time Titans will become plot-relevant at some future point. 

Multiverse Stuff

Well, out of the myriad worlds that F&C have already visited, it seems like the one that has really left a lot of lingering questions in the minds of the AT Fandom is Farmworld, and those questions are primarily…

HEY!? What the FUCK??? Is he okay?? Is he dead??

So yeah, some sort of confirmation of whatever or not Farmworld Finn is/isn’t dead, and if he is dead - some sort of confirmation of how his kids are getting by considering that their eldest brother just fucked-off to another universe one day… that would be nice and give a better sense of closure on the Farmworld segment of F&C Season 1.

But personally…I think the Multiverse Moment that really rings to me the most as a ‘probable future plot point’, is definitely this little moment in Vampireworld.

The show deliberately emphasizes the moment where the Vampire King saw our Trio use God’s Remote Control to warp to another world. And personally, the vibes here seem… meaningful.

With Bonnie also drawing attention to the fact the Vampires have over-hunted the humans and basically doomed both the world in general and Vampirekind specifically… Could this be the Vampire King’s solution to that problem? Now that he has seen ‘a new thing’, a hint at the existence of the Multiverse - will he try to find a whole new world for his children to feast on?

Well… that’s an alright villain concept and a decent plot hook. My current problem with it is just… the Mainworld Vampire King made for an intriguing and interesting character due both to his compelling dynamic with Marceline and the way he has been changed by the destruction of his people into a very contemplative and complex person. Vampireworld Vampire King doesn’t really have that, as a Vampire King who has never known defeat, he's just a Very Dramatic Evil Vampire. And I feel like Adventure Time aspires to more unique antagonists than Very Dramatic Evil Vampires. 

Now, it’s not impossible to make Vampireworld Vampire King a bit more Interesting if he ever takes center stage - maybe the population collapse of Vampireworld affected him in similar ways to Mainworld Vampire King, or maybe it affected him in a totally different direction, maybe we can give a bit more focus on the influence the Crown has or doesn’t have on him, maybe something else completely out-of-left-field could happen to him.

Or maybe the Star did end up surviving the Doomed Yuri Freefall and she’ll be the one trying out for Vampiric Multiverse Conqueror. She was always the, well, Star of Vampireworld - and she has the potential to be a very fun antagonist with cool thematic implications. I mean, like, Imagine her in contrast to Marshall. He gave up on a comfortable life in the laps of luxury due to wanting some freedom from his over-controlling mom and also it seems some level of moral outrage at her Landlordy ways

And the Star is a Daddy’s Girl Evil Vampire Princess and basically everything he has tried not to be. And yet… will he see a bit of himself in the Star?

Also, I wonder if we’ll see some more of the Alternative Universes Simon stumbled on during his trip back to Ooo. You know, the ones we haven’t actually seen in the main plot.

Simon Stuff

Okay, so… even before the announcement was made official, I have seen a lot of people assume that F&C Season 2 will be just as Simon-Focused as the first season. But personally, I am not sure about it just yet. I mean, I’m a huge Simon Fan, being part of the Petricollective ever since I started to watch the show, so I sure as hell will not complain but… it is important to remember the show is called “Fionna and Cake” and not “Fionna and Cake and Simon”.

I can see the idea being that Simon works as more of a ‘link’ between regular ‘Adventure Time’ and ‘Fionna and Cake’. You know, he’s a fan-favorite and the one major ‘loose thread’ in the original show that can draw old fans into this series which is mostly an all-new cast (considering the Fionnaworld Crew consider themselves to be distinctive from their old magical counterparts).... Kinda like he was the link between Fionnaworld and the rest of the Multiverse, actually. So he’s around as a major character for the first season and from then on he takes more of a secondary role. Since he is a good friend of F&C by this point and their main connection to Ooo, I doubt he’ll disappear completely, but he just might not be as central a character. Or maybe the theme of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is F&C teaming up with different Mainworld characters for different kinds of adventures? 

I mean, it still could go either way. Simon’s arc feels pretty well-concluded to me but the same is true for the Fionnaworld crew and… obviously they’re going to have more Character Stuff in the upcoming season and it’s the whole thing about how it’s important to make your character arcs feel concluded if you don’t know if you’re getting another season. We’ve talked about this already. 

And also… There is one aspect of Simon’s Problems at the start of the show that didn’t truly get to a satisfactory conclusion by the end of the first season. Namely, his loving-but-rocky relationships with both Marceline and Finn.

Like, y’know, he’s generally handling his Stuff better by the end of the season so I guess we can assume he’s also better at communicating with his loved ones but… it is very peculiar that we didn’t actually get to see it. Even as just a moment in his Happy Ending Montage when we see him hanging out and being happy with Finn and/or Marcy. Like, there is certainly a Point to be made about the importance of Simon making friends with people who didn’t know him much as Ice King for the sake of his recovery…

But the total absence of Finn and Marcy from Simon’s epilogue still feels… odd. So that could be something to return to in a future season. Like, I did speculate the F&C ‘format’ might be the Fionnaworld Crew + a different Mainworld character given focus every season. So maybe Simon’s still-not-fully-concluded interpersonal issues could be a launchpad to a F&C season with a primary focus on Finn and/or Marceline.

Finn and Fionna adventuring together would be pretty neat, and if we’re going to give more focus to Prismo’s Grief Problem, it would be very Thematically Appropriate. But also....confronting Finn’s own Jake Grief Problems is actually kinda challenging because we already had a whole special about it.

And that special is happening way way farther in the timeline and explicitly established that Finn never truly got over the grief of losing Jake.

So making an F&C adventure that tackles Finn’s grief in a satisfying manner without feeling it steps over Together Again’s toes… Well, it’s not impossible, but it is quite a tall feat.

Meanwhile, Marceline has less Obvious Issues That Need to Be Addressed right now but also… if we do have the Vampire King and/or the Star as a major threat for this new season, she would clearly be the one to get the Maximum Amount of Drama out of it, so…

Other Ooo Stuff

Okay, so speaking of Finn and things established early on in F&C which then didn’t really come back by the end of the first season, let’s talk a bit about the Heart of the Forest.

So this whole thing could be just a Joke. It could just be a gag about Finn disregarding Huntress Wizard’s warnings and taking his depressed middle-aged friend hiking in the Most Sacred and Ancient Forest in all of Ooo, as a joke. Haha, oh this Finn, so irresponsible! But also…

Finn and Simon were being watched. By a being wearing the same mask as the ‘Evil Bear’

But one that does not quite move like a bear world…

And then of course, this supposedly ‘Evil Bear’ only attacks Simon after he tries to get his little nerdy hands on this peculiar and important-looking tree. 

This really seems to have some implications that the ‘Evil Bear’ is not just one more random ‘evil’ monster that Finn and Simon stumbled across. That they might be some sort of Guardian for the Heart of the Forest, and that their shapeshifting abilities also extend to having some sort of humanoid form, and that they are not quite as monstrous or bestial or ‘evil’ as Finn pegged them out to be.

But all that happens is that Finn kills them, and then the whole matter is not brought up again…. Well, as of Season 1, that is…

So if we are doing some sort of Finn Focused Season, that might be something to bring up. Especially if it’s paired up with some of the Fionna/Hunter stuff I brought up above. 

Again, everything here is just Wild Wild Speculation at this point. This is just a bunch of Stuff that felt Weird resolution-wise in Season 1, and some loose ideas about how they might connect. If you guys have your own ideas and observations, I would love to hear them too!

[serendipityandbenevolence]

I gotta say, when I passed out last night after writing this post, I didn't expect to wake up to people actually liking it. but hey! thanks for the support. As per my little footnote (if you didn't read it then sucks to be you ig) the people who commented got first choice of which characters im going to write. love y'all by the way <3 which means that first up is... Dottore! (as requested by @amber-sekio and @gallantys)

(I am not playing rn when I say that I spent a large amount of time reading Dottore x reader fanfic so I could figure out how the hell to write him and this is probably still ooc but i did my best)

Contains - Yandere behavior (kept to a minimum though) dottore being a charming ray of a human (he mentions enslaving other countries), discussions of blood and injuries

"Dottore?"

The silence from the hallway was almost deafening. The sudden intense quiet was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire, a welcome reprieve as your words hung in the air. Perhaps it was stupid, to call for a person who may not be there and who, of all the Harbingers, might be the most likely to still attempt to kill you. A foolish whim, but nearly dying does funny things to a person's rational.

Your door slid open silently, revealing the Doctor himself peering in at you. He did not appear to be wearing his mask, but with the low light and strands of blue hair covering his face, you couldn't make out his features well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Something was wrong. His voice was too soft, his words too gentle, the whole demeanor was wrong. You knew he had segments that acted differently, but you couldn't imagine Dottore ever being that kind sounding. But you were in too deep.

"Can you come in here, please? I need to ask you a question."

A few murmurs struck up behind him, but Dottore simply nodded and stepped into the room, turning his back to you as shut the door.

"You know..." he mused as he clicked the lock shut.

Ah, there it was. With the door closed, his voice changed, with that hint of cruelty and mania that you had come to associate with him lacing his words. His blood red eyes bored into you, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Oh, what's with the expression? You seem a little scared of me, Divine One. Am I not as nice as you assumed?"

He didn't allow you to answer, pacing closer to where you lay, buried beneath the pile of blankets.

"There's really no need to be scared of me. After all, I was the one who nursed you so lovingly back to health when you were brought here out of the cold. Aren't I so generous?"

"You healed me?"

You didn't bother hiding your concern. You kicked off your pile of blankets and assessed your body, trying to see if any of your organs were missing.

"My my, do you have such little faith in me? I am a doctor after all. One of the best I'll have you know."

He leaned against the wall by your bedside, giving you a rather unnerving grin.

"Well, you have my undivided attention. What was it that you wanted to ask me?"

You were starting to think that it was a very bad idea to ask for Dottore, but you also suspected that saying you wanted to talk to someone else would go over even worse.

"Yes, I just...wanted to know what I missed while I was asleep. You know, with the other nations."

"Ahh, of course! Well, upon some reflection they seem to have come to the conclusion that you are the actual creator and not a 'fake' as they so cruelly labelled you. Needless to say, quite a few letters of apology have been sent begging for your forgiveness for their dreadful ignorance. Including-"

He reached over to you, laying a shockingly gentle hand upon your bandaged side.

"-the one who nearly killed you."

"You know who it is?" you asked in surprise.

"But of course! Simply assessing your wound, I could tell the weapon and the particular style of it, which made it rather easy to cross-referencing that with the time and location that you were attacked and deduce your attacker with little difficulty. "

"Really?"

He scoffed. "No, of course not. They mentioned in their letter that they were the one who harmed you."

Dottore stepped away from you, pacing towards the door as he pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and tossed it onto the end of your bed.

"You should read it sometime, it is truly a delightfully pathetic read. They only made one mistake."

"Mistake?"

He turned to look at you and you saw that all of the cruel humor that had covered his face was gone, replaced with an infinitely scarier coldness.

"They signed their name. So now, I know exactly who will be my next experiment, when we invade the other nations."

There was silence for a moment, before his features softened and he let out a soft laugh.

"You should sleep. It's the best medicine after all. We can discuss this more in the morning."

Dottore went to turn from you once more, but paused as you opened your mouth.

"Dottore, burn the letter. I don't want to read what they have to say."

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he snatched the letter back up and strode towards the fire.

"You know, I think-"

He tossed the letter into the embers and watched as it instantly caught alight.

"-that you and I will get along very, very well."

Dottore pulled the door open and gave you one last comment before leaving, not even turning his head.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

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

That took me so long to write guys 😭 but anyway i hope you liked it! like i said earlier, i struggle a bit with dottore because he has all his different segments with different personalities but i think this turned out okay.

Also, the order for the next few harbingers will go as such

Tartaglia- requested by @gallantys and @followingyou247

Pierro - requested by @mistresssasori

Capitano - requested by @moonlite-drabbles @megsthings and @legendarysacrificer-blog (yall really love him clearly)

If you guys want to help me pick the order after that, go ahead in the comments!

also tagging @heizoubeloved in this because you mentioned wanting to see more!

[bigassmoth]

He doesn't know how to respond to you sometimes (astarion x isekaied!reader) 2nd person pov

-----

"So...what do I look like?" He attempts to remain stoic but his eyes are earnestly scanning your face.

"Oh! I have a piece of a broken mirror somewhere in my bag if you want me to get it." You actually start to turn away to retrieve the discarded treasure before Astarion tugs you back by your shirt. Perhaps out of instinct from the many times your battle-experienced teammates have pulled you back from harm, you follow his tug and plop into his arms to look up at him quizzically.

"No, no. I can't tell if you are exercising your inconceivable sarcasm or are being genuine but either way- cease." Astarion briefly appreciates the warmth of your back against his chest before righting and spinning you around to face him. "Tell me what I look like."

You stare at him with a slowly growing smirk. Astarion can't help but tap his heel into the ground and cross his arms, aware of his mistake. His eyes rolling to the sky he leans forward and hisses.

"Puh-leeze."

You hum and break out into a bright smile, half-enjoying his progress in manners and half-enjoying his misery in indulging you.

"Well you look very adorable." Astarion begins to sputter (surely you meant worthy of adoration, right?) but you continue with your observations, "You have white hair, red eyes that I think some people think are just dark brown. Or that you are an albino. Honestly I don't know how other people don't clock you as a vampire."

He sighs, this is a conversation you've had before.

"By this point my dear you have seen far stranger. And I am a vampire spawn- there's a big difference."

You shrug, Astarion is beginning to suspect that your persistent misunderstanding of fundamental racial differences and cultural schisms is just a front for your unwillingness to conform to standard beliefs.

"Red eyes, claws, fangs, pointy ears. It's all there is what I'm saying."

"Pah-Pointy ears!?" Astarion rubs his temple in exasperation. "No, no. I'm not doing this with you right now. I'm ignoring your ignorance."

He sighs and claps his hands in front of him, looking at you with a slight sneer.

"You mean to tell me, that what I look like. Is just white, with red eyes, and pointy ears. You can't just call me beautiful and we can be done with it?"

"Oh I don't know if 'beautiful' is how I would describe you."

"Do you want to die?" Normally he would have a more severe reaction but at this point you had already exhausted him. Not that he wanted some rando-human from gods know where to think of him as the most beautiful creature they had ever seen.

"Nah it's just when I look at you I think about how cute you are. And I don't know why you are hung up on your ears, I love your ears." You reach up and cup his face, tilting his head to the side to admire said feature.

What's worse than your abrupt sappy touchiness is Astarion let you, swallowed thickly when you traced the shell of his ears from the tip to the soft underside of his jaw. This was a common problem with you in the camp that flustered everyone, your accidental intimacy and non-withheld affections.

"Your hair curls at the end, so it frames and wraps around your ears. Also around your cheeks sometimes but I think it's ticklish so you usually brush it back." You do the job for him, pulling strand of his ghostly locks from his face to tuck neatly behind his ear. Your hands are off of him now- as swiftly as you assaulted him with your warmth you leave him robbed of his senses.

"Ugh please, enough with your touchy-feely nonsense. This wasn't why I asked you. I just want to know if I am...presentable." He needed to know how he was seen. He needed to hear you say that you saw him as beautiful- but now Astarion felt like he bit off more than he could chew. Certainly others thought he was a divine image, the amount of lustful gazes he receives tells him as much. But what flavor was his beauty? Was it to your tastes?

"I am only touchy-feely nonsense." You coo at him with a shit-eating grin. In a way you were right, Astarion had seen you land insults that constituted as vicious mockery with the damage they dealt. That amount of power required much touchy-feely nonsense.

Feeling himself at his limit, given that it's hard to meet your gaze and his heart has begun to patter restlessly in it's bone cage, Astarion waves his hand and turns on his heel to return to his tent.

"Astarion~" You call out sing-songy, body swaying slightly as your readied your final attack. Against his better judgement Astarion stopped just as he was lifting his tent flap and turned to you with an eyebrow raised.

"You have thick eyebrows that accentuate your eyes like a belfry. Your cheekbones are tall and your cheeks shallow, so your face doesn't have much roundness to it. You have a slightly tapered jawline that leads to a smooth chin. There aren't any moles or marks on your skin aside from some slight pigmentation. Your ears make your face look broader, slightly less severe. Your smile lines soften your face, add muscle tone and character. I think people like your eyes the most, they are deep set and mysterious but when you smile the corners of your eyes crinkle in a way that is charming and sweet."

Astarion soaked in your description and kept quiet lest the emotion stuck in his throat become a mournful sob. Your absurdity had distracted him from the original purpose of his question, but perhaps you knew what he wanted since the first time he asked. You wait patiently for him to process your words before chirping out,

"I can try drawing you sometime, or we can get your portrait done when this worm business is done."

For once Astarion doesn't have the will to correct you about the difference between a tadpole and worm. In fact, he is startled when he laughs.

"Ah, yes. I would like that, once this stupid worm is out of my brain I think I will." He smiles in a shy and wry way. It's not lost on him that you said 'we'. Whether that means just the two of you or the rest of the party, Astarion doesn't know. He holds the words in his heart, that even after you no longer need his skills you would want to do silly selfish things with him. You grin back.

"I like all of your smiles, but some of them are definitely better than others. Have a goodnight, Astarion."

He would, he would kick his feet, stuff his face in his pillow, and roll around on his bedroll like a teenage girl.

Bonus:

The next morning Astarion waited for you to be out of earshot before approaching Wyll.

"Wyll-" He twirled, "how do I look?"

Wyll looked up from the breakfast he was cooking with a perplexed expression. He looked Astarion up and down.

"Like a leech looking for a neck to latch onto?" He offers with a coy smirk.

Astarion scoffs and stalks off. "Useless, all of you."

[c-e-d-dreamer]

You Are Not the Kind of Boy (Who Should Be Marrying the Wrong Girl): Part One

A/N: happy happy @sjmromanceweek! Don't you just love the first date of... (checks notes) being ruined by your older sister's lover bursting into her wedding? It's how all the great first dates start! 😉 I hope everyone enjoys this Elucien sequel to But I'm Only Looking At You! You don't have to have read the Nessian part to understand, but you do need to know that Cassian ruined Nesta and subsequently Elain and Feyre before this fic's timeline. This is the first of three parts I'll be posting for Romance Week 🥰

Read on AO3 // Next Part

Three Months Ago

The music drifts through the large, arching doorway, the sound light and lilting as its melody fills the room. It wraps around Elain's limbs, floating above into the high ceiling and the chandelier hanging there. Elain can't help but hum along quietly to the familiar tune, even as she tilts her head to admire the painting displayed before her. It's a beautiful landscape, light brushstrokes of white perfectly capturing the clouds in the sky, dots of color in the foreground to mimic wildflowers.

“My lady.”

Elain nearly jumps out of her skin at the sudden voice, even as the familiarity of that tone sends goosebumps cascading down her arms. She turns her head to the gentleman now standing beside her. His fitted waistcoat is a deep green color, the intricate gold stitching exactly the type of luxury Elain expects from a Duke's son. Still, the color compliments his red hair, the strands left loose to hang around his face. Even with the fox mask he's chosen to don for the evening's festivities, there's no mistaking him.

Lucien Spellcleaver.

He keeps his hands tucked neatly behind his back, his eyes firmly forward on the painting before them. But Elain doesn't miss the way his fingers seem to flex, the bob of his throat as he swallows, and she certainly doesn't miss the way a smirk tugs up the left side of his lips at her continued attention. Since making Lucien's acquaintance and through their continued interactions, Elain has begun to suspect he's more scoundrel than lord, all teasing smirks and snarky remarks. He finally turns to meet her gaze, his eyes practically glinting beneath the light of the chandelier, one russet and one gold.

“You look lovely this evening,” Lucien tells her, Elain swearing he sounds almost breathless as he says it. “That color suits you.”

Elain is glad for her own mask to hide the blush that crashes across her cheeks, but she ducks her head nonetheless. “Thank you, your Grace.”

She turns back to the painting, if only to break the intensity of his stare, the spell that seems wrapped up in that gaze, curling around her chest like a golden thread and tugging her into him. Perhaps, if she stares hard enough at the painted wildflowers, her face will stop being the same shade of pink as her dress. Thankfully, Lucien seems content to simply stand beside her, barely a hairsbreadth keeping their arms from brushing together.

“Thesan has good taste,” Lucien breaks the quiet to comment. “Clear from this evening's masquerade as well. Are you enjoying the festivities, my lady?”

“Yes. I have particularly enjoyed the music.”

“And yet I have not yet seen you grace the dance floor.”

“Perhaps, I am still waiting for the right partner,” Elain dares to say, turning back toward Lucien only to find his stare already pinned on her.

His hand reaches forward in the space between them, his fingers skating down Elain's arm before curling around her wrist. Elain just barely swallows down the gasp at that simple touch, her heart beginning to pound between her ribs. She feels frozen, unable to move or look away as Lucien pulls her hand closer to him, as his fingers unfold her dance card. She watches him scrawl his name, expects him to drop her hand once he's finished, but instead, he merely lifts her hand higher, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His lips linger against her skin far longer than is proper, a fire practically burning in his eyes, but still Elain doesn't move, doesn't breathe.

It's only when Lucien finally releases her hand, when he finally steps away and vanishes back into the ballroom and amongst the ball’s guests, that Elain releases a quiet, gasping breath. She runs her hands down the skirts of her dress, trying desperately to calm her thundering heart, and when she looks at her dance card to see which dance Lucien has claimed, she finds his name written in large, looping letters diagonally across the entire booklet.

A scoundrel indeed.

~ * * * ~

Today

The carriage jerks beneath them, jostling lightly as the horse tugs them down the road. The silence is suffocating, the air tense and thick enough in the tight space that Elain feels like she could choke on it. She keeps her eyes firmly out the window, watching the shops, the houses, the people that the carriage passes.

She doesn’t dare to look at the other faces of her family, least of all her mother. The ire radiating off of Eleanor Archeron is palpable and stifling and has Elain’s whole body tensing in anticipation. And it’s not even directed at her. Nesta’s fingers are twisted tight enough in the skirts of her dress that Elain can see the white knuckles even in her periphery. Elain’s own fingers twitch with the desire to reach out, to squeeze Nesta’s hands in soothing comfort, but there’s no saving her older sister from what’s coming, not after what’s happened, what Nesta did.

Elain still can’t even wrap her head around it. She had known, of course, that there was something between her sister and Cassian MacLeod. He had practically followed Nesta around wherever they went, and Elain can still remember the night their mother had thrown a stack of letters from him into the fire, can still remember hearing Nesta cry through the wall their bedrooms share. But she never thought Nesta would do this, never thought she’d take things so far so as to lay with a man unwed.

The carriage finally pulls to a stop, and the footman has barely pulled the door open before Feyre is rushing out, clearly just as desperate as Elain to escape the cloying mood trapped within the carriage. The rest of the family clambers out in stoic silence, and finally, with a soft sigh, Elain slips out of the carriage. Nesta hesitates at the bottom of the front steps, so Elain steps around her, giving her sister the moment she clearly needs and following her parents inside their home.

But once they’re all inside, once the front door has closed with a too loud snick the echoes like a death knell, all hell breaks loose.

Elain supposes there is some benefit to them having to dismiss their staff. There’s no one to see the rage burning across their mother’s face as she whirls around on Nesta. No one to hear the slap that rings out in the front hall as the back of Eleanor’s hand strikes across Nesta’s cheek.

“You stupid girl,” their mother seethes, already raising her hand again despite Nesta’s flinch. “What were you thinking?”

“Mama, please. I didn’t—”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Everything I have done for you. All that work I put in. And for what? For you to spread your legs like a common whore, and for some filthy factory rat of all things?”

Feyre steps closer to Elain, looping their arms together as they stand tensely, awkwardly, while everything unfolds, but Elain can’t watch the way their mother explodes around them a moment longer. She swallows hard and averts her gaze, focusing on the shadows that stretch across the floors and walls from the sun spilling through the windows.

“I hope you’re happy,” their mother continues. “You’ve always been a disappointment to the Archeron name, and now, you have thoroughly ruined it. You’ve ruined us all. You’ve ruined your sisters. Is that what you wanted? Perhaps, you can teach them the proper ways to pleasure a man for when they end up on the street trying to rub pennies together.”

The words are enough to draw Elain’s attention back, to spear straight through her chest. Despite the cruelty of their mother’s words, there’s no denying the underlying truth to them. Elain doubts the Mandrays will keep quiet about what happened this morning, that word will quickly burn through the ton like a wildfire. She’s sure that the next time they go to the market, everyone will stare, will look down their noses, will whisper and gossip about the Archeron girls.

She’s sure that no respectable gentleman will want to go anywhere near them.

That thought has Elain’s heart twisting tightly in her chest, pain blooming surely enough that it takes everything within her not to press her hand against the ache. It has her stomach roiling until she thinks she might be sick, until the taste of bile starts to tickle the back of her throat. She thinks of Lucien, of the way he had danced with her all night at Thesan’s masquerade ball. Of the way he called on her almost every day before her mother sent the staff away and put an end to any and all callers. Of the way he found her in the market just the other day and teased her about her ribbon selection.

Lucien. A Duke’s son. Someone who will need legitimate heirs, and not someone whose honor will forever be questioned.

Eleanor lets out a long sigh, holding her hand to her head as if this whole conversation is tortuous and sickening to her. Their father, doting as ever, rushes forward. He curls an arm around his wife’s waist, murmuring gentle words before he leads her away up the stairs.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Feyre demands as soon as they’re alone.

Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, glancing away from her sisters and swallowing hard. “I didn’t know he was going to do that. I didn’t… I didn’t know he was going to ruin us all.”

“But why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, Feyre,” Nesta snaps, her voice exasperated. “It’s not like I asked him to do that. He’s an idiot.”

“But you care about him, and I’m quite sure he cares for you. I saw—”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Who will marry us now?” Elain whispers, cutting off her sisters’ arguing, her eyes beginning to burn with the familiar heat of tears.

“Elain…” Nesta begins, her voice gentle, but it’s as though she doesn’t quite know what to say.

Elain knows it’s silly, knows that her sisters never quite felt the same or understood, but she had looked forward to what her future could hold. She had looked forward to finding a husband. Ideally, a love match, but she would also be happy with a man who was simply kind. She had looked forward to tending to a house, to being the mistress of a manor. She had looked forward to being a mother.

And most recently, Elain couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to be a duchess. Imagine small, running feet and shocks of bright, red hair. Imagine a certain Duke’s son with a child on his shoulders and offering her that roguish smile of his. Imagine his arms around her as securely as the night at Thesan’s masquerade ball.

Elain scrubs at her cheeks, at the tears sliding down across her skin, and turns on her heel. She ignores Feyre calling her name, making her way up the stairs and to her bedroom. She closes the door firmly behind her, crumpling into her vanity chair and sniffling quietly. The ribbon she had gotten earlier in the week still sits there, and almost absentmindedly, Elain traces along it with her finger.

If she closes her eyes, she can still perfectly imagine that day, can still remember walking through the market, the sights and the sounds of the ton soaring on the late summer breeze around her. Lucien had all but followed her into the ribbon shop, offering another of his roguish smiles and a flourished bow. He hadn’t been fazed when Elain teased him about a gentleman in a ribbon shop, insisting he was merely looking for himself, in need of something to tie back his hair with.

There was no stopping the lightness that flooded through Elain’s chest, the warmth that twined around her heart, the quiet laugh that was pulled past her lips, as Lucien held up different ribbons and asked for her opinion on each one. Elain had settled on the ribbon with gold stitching and suns woven into the lace, telling Lucien it complimented his hair and eyes well. In retrospect, perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised when the exact same ribbon had been delivered to her the next day.

Elain’s fingers curl tightly around the ribbon, frustration beginning to spark through her veins. It burns away any numbness, any anguish, over the events of the day. It’s unfair. It’s entirely and completely unfair, and Elain refuses to tolerate it for another moment. She will no longer sit idly by. If this is to be her life, her future now, then she at least deserves to do one last thing.

With a quiet huff, Elain pushes back up to her feet, her determination solidified and her resolve hardened. She throws open her wardrobe doors, digging around the back until she finds a dark colored cloak, pulling it on and making sure the hood covers her hair and casts her face in shadow.

It’s with slow, deliberate carefulness that Elain pulls open her bedroom door, making sure the creak of the wood can’t be heard. She glances both ways down the hall, ensuring it’s all clear before tiptoeing her way toward the service stairs and following them down to the kitchen. The kitchen is quiet and dark, just as Elain expects, no one in the family stepping foot down here even with the staff dismissed. It makes it all too easy to unlatch the back door and slip out of the manor all together.

The sun has already started to set, strokes of pinks and oranges and purples painted across the sky above, blending with the wisps of clouds. The entire world is washed in soft light, glinting off the leaves and flowers. The light and late afternoon breeze turns the field just behind the manor into a rolling sea of gold, turns the willow tree Elain can see a little further ways up into a glittering fountain.

Hiking up her skirts to avoid getting mud on the hem, Elain begins her trek through the field. She keeps to the trees rather than the main road, tucking her chin down so the shadow cast by her hood hides her face any time she passes by anyone else. But soon the large, gravel pathway comes into view, winding up to the large estate that looms before her.

Three stories worth of tall windows stretch far to Elain’s left and right. The center of the estate juts out slightly further than the east and west wings, columns and beautiful arches only adding to the elegance. With the light of the fading day hitting and reflecting off the white bricks, the entire estate seems to glow as though it’s an embodiment of the sun itself.

Elain takes a moment to breathe deeply, to roll and square her shoulders. The walk here has done little to soften the resolve that hardened her spine, that fire of determination still blazing through her veins. But there’s no denying the spark of nerves low in her gut, the flutter of butterflies in her chest. Still, if Elain’s future is to be what everyone says it will be, if everything she’s ever wanted really is no longer within reach, then Elain intends to take this one thing that’s just for her.

With a decided nod, Elain makes her way up the gravel pathway toward the estate, veering off to the right before she reaches the front door. Lucien had mentioned how he loved to watch the sunset over the water from his room, so she’s quite sure that means his rooms must be in the western wing.

As Elain winds around the side of the estate, trying to figure out how she’ll identify which window is Lucien’s, she finds the man in question lounging in the grass beside the lake’s edge. He’s dressed casually, merely a pair of pants that hug the thick lines of his thighs, and a simple, white shirt tucked into the waistband, the laces around the neck loose and teasing a sliver of golden skin and collarbones. His red hair hangs around his face and shoulders, strands dancing in the breeze and whispering across his cheeks.

He has a book opened in his hands, and he doesn’t seem to hear Elain as she steps closer, so she awkwardly clears her throat, drawing the attention of those beautiful russet and gold eyes.

“Elain,” Lucien exclaims, closing his book and scrambling up to his feet. “How are—I heard about what happened. With your sister.”

“Word certainly travels fast around the ton,” Elain sighs, fiddling with the skirts of her dress. She was hoping Lucien wouldn’t know, that she would still have the benefit of ignorance on her side if only for tonight.

Lucien steps closer to her, his hand raising up into the space between them before he hesitates and drops it back down to his side. “And are you alright?”

The question takes Elain by surprise, and for a moment, she can do nothing but blink up at Lucien in confusion. She should have known. Should have known that Lucien was too much of a good man to judge her, to cast stones the way she’s sure the ton and its gossip machine have been doing as soon as the Mandrays stepped out of that church.

“As well as I can be,” Elain finally answers. “Now that my season is ruined. Now that I’m ruined.”

“You’re not ruined, Elain,” Lucien assures her, a frown tugging down his lips.

“You’re being kind, but you don’t need to lie to me. I’m not stupid. I mean, what sensible man will want to marry me now?”

“I’m sure there’s a man who would be very honored to call you his wife. Quite confident in fact.”

“Stop being kind,” Elain huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. “But it’s alright. I’ve accepted it now. It’s actually why I’m here.”

“All you have to do is say the word,” Lucien tells her, taking her hands in his own. His touch is surprisingly warm, surprisingly gentle the way his fingers curl around her own. “And you know that I will help you. Happily.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.” Elain steps closer still to Lucien, biting her lip and peering up at him from under her lashes. “Because I could use your help. Now that the whole ton will think I’ve laid with a man just as Nesta has, I figured I might as well make it a reality.”

“Elain,” Lucien begins, taking a step back from her.

“I just want one thing for myself. One thing that I want, that I choose, that can’t be taken from me.”

“I get that, I do, but I do not want to be the one that ruins your honor. Don’t you think it best to wait until you are wed?”

“You aren’t listening, Lucien. My honor is already ruined, and no one is going to marry me.”

“That’s not true. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Elain, I—”

Before Lucien can finish speaking, Elain crowds back into his space and surges up onto her toes, crashing her lips against his. It’s a bit awkward, merely a press of lips, but excitement still cascades through Elain’s entire being, fueling her and begging for more. After a moment, Lucien starts to relax, his hands moving to cradle her jaw before they’re sliding down her neck to her shoulders, gently pulling her away.

“Elain…”

“Don’t you want me too?”

“I can assure you that’s not the issue here.”

“Lucien, please.”

Lucien sighs softly, lifting a hand to push up and through his hair. “How can you ever expect me to say no to you when I would gladly do anything for you?”

“I don’t,” Elain tells him matter-of-factly, pressing her body fully against his until her breasts press against his chest, their hips aligned flush together.

“Fuck,” Lucien mumbles beneath his breath. “If we… just promise that after, we can talk. Properly. About this.”

“Of course.”

It’s a lie. Elain has every intention of leaving after tonight, of walking away from Lucien completely. No matter what she wants. No matter the way her heart quakes and shutters at the idea. But she simply can’t stomach it, the idea of dragging Lucien down with her. She could never mar his future with the dark, roiling clouds that are now firmly casted over her own.

After tonight, Elain will ensure that she doesn’t stand in the way of everything that Lucien deserves, that’s his birthright as the son of a Duke.

But Lucien doesn’t need to know that.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise

[jaeyunverse]

love for sale (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | nishimura riki x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, fake dating, prep school au

EST. WORD COUNT | i am not sure actually so i will say anywhere from 5k to 12k

WARNING(S) | profanity, prejudice, class discrimination + all warnings to be added in the full fic

SUMMARY | nishimura riki wants to piss off his mother and you need money to keep studying at clayton prep after your scholarship is under the threat of being terminated. it just so works out that you’re the exact kind of person his mom despises, and riki has more than enough money in his bank account to fund your education.

TAGLIST | permanent taglist + @1-800shutthefuckup @tyunni @songchan @yunjardi @woniewonwon @jennaissantes @luvkpopp @kimipxl @toeeater394737 @wzy3ka @wqstcrn @heetoldme send an ask or comment to be added!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | i don’t even know how long this wip has been catching dust in my docs LOOOL i am very excited to get started on it though! i hope u enjoy the teaser <3

Nishimura Riki was really starting to get on your nerves. 

Normally, he was a person who couldn’t stop riling you up for his amusement. You tried to pretend he didn’t exist, but there was something about him that compelled you to shoot back with a jab of your own every time he taunted you.

Your life without his annoying presence would have been simpler, but overall, he was harmless.   

However, his behaviour from the past few days was really starting to make you wonder if he had gone off the deep end and finally lost his mind. 

“Leave me alone, Nishimura!” you snapped, tired from having to tell him the same thing over and over again. “I am not doing you the stupid favour.”

“I’m not asking for a favour!” he protested. “I’m willing to give you anything you want in return. This is a legitimate transaction involving give-and-take.”

“I don’t want shit from you and you’re an idiot to think of your proposed arrangement as a mere transaction.”  

“You’re making a mistake, Y/N.”

“No,” you said, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. “I would be making a mistake if I agreed to be your fake fucking girlfriend. How the hell did you even think to ask me that?”

Riki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced around your school hallway and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to god-knew-where.

“Wha—” you began, but he cut you off.

“It’s too crowded here. We can’t discuss this matter in public under any circumstances.” 

Scoffing, you snatched your arm back. He paused for a moment, watching you overtake him and walk ahead. When he didn’t follow, you glared at him over your shoulder. 

Riki rolled his eyes and took long strides towards you. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” you replied sharply, not allowing him to walk beside you and making sure to stay a step ahead. 

Perhaps, Clayton Prep’s snobbiness had rubbed off on you more than you’d suspected. Though you supposed it was bound to happen someday since you’d been surrounded by teenagers born with a diamond spoon in their mouth for the past few years.

Opening an inconspicuous door at the end of the hallway, you trudged inside and found yourself in an empty classroom. Nishimura Riki kicked the entrance shut behind him and turned to you. 

“Look, I’m not happy to have this conversation over and over again either, but I need you. I don’t have a fucking choice.”

You snorted. “You need me? Pray tell.”  

“My mom hates people who don’t have money and influence.” 

“Oh, you could not be more wrong if you thought telling me this would convince me to help you.” 

“I’m not done,” Riki snapped. “Just hear me out before you jump to conclusions.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“My grandfather’s shares will be transferred to me once I turn 21 and she’s pissed I’m going to get control of the business instead of her,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no doubt about my mother’s love for me, but she has been dreaming about taking over the company ever since she was a kid. She can’t do that by herself anymore, so she’s going to try to do it through me by getting me to bend to her will. I can’t let her put a leash on me and start dictating my life.” 

“If you think going out with me will send her a message, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were,” you said and scoffed with disbelief. “You want her to back off, Nishimura? You better come up with something that doesn’t make you look like a spoiled brat rebelling against his mommy.”   

“You don’t know my mother,” he growled. “She has always been prejudiced against poor people. Money and power are all she cares about, and I will not let her come after what belongs to me.” 

“You know what?” you fumed and stomped towards him, jabbing your finger into his chest. “You’re an asshole. You came to me for help and you still had the audacity to humiliate me. Not to mention that your sob story makes you sound like a hypocrite who only cares about money too.”  

“I don’t give a shit about the money. I care about keeping my grandfather’s legacy alive,” he bit back and took a step closer. “There’s a reason he was willing to give his inexperienced grandson his company rather than hand it over to his daughter.” 

“Well, I don’t give a shit, Nishimura!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air. “Deal with your goddamn problems by yourself. We’re done having this conversation.”

Shoving him away, you walked to the door and ripped it open. However, before you could leave, he said, “You’re here on scholarship, aren’t you?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. “What?” 

“Sorry.” Riki laughed humourlessly. “That was a stupid question. I know you’re here on scholarship. Everyone does, and that’s because Clayton Prep isn’t known for charity.” 

“You’re going to end up with a bloody face if you don’t watch what you say,” you warned, trying your best to keep the chain on your temper intact. 

“Do you know why this school doesn’t offer scholarships, Y/N?” he inquired and slowly closed the distance between the two of you, unfazed by your threat. “It’s because my mother is a trustee on the board and prohibits financial aid. 

“The only reason you were accepted is that my grandfather built this place from the ground up. He wanted you here because saw something special in you. He may have overruled her decision then, but he’s not here to keep protecting you now.”

The colour drained from your face and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Are you threatening me?” 

“I’m giving a rundown on the facts and am offering you an opportunity,” Riki corrected. “I have more than enough money to pay for your entire education at Clayton Prep. You just have to say yes to helping me piss my mom off.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and stared at him, your hands curling into fists at your side. You couldn’t believe you’d been stupid enough to not predict what Mr. Nishimura’s death would have entailed for you.

Though, you didn’t blame yourself. The man had quite literally picked you from the streets and given you a shot at living a meaningful life. He’d gifted you a future, and you’d spent months grieving his passing. 

You weren’t going to beat yourself up for not being a cold-hearted, selfish and conniving bitch. 

But now that Riki had pointed out the glaringly obvious, you had to strongarm yourself. You couldn’t let his mother kick you out because you didn’t have the resources to study at Clayton Prep.

Besides, if there was one thing you were aware of without a doubt, it was your self-worth. You’d proved yourself to be smarter than every single student attending the school on several occasions. 

Blowing out a breath, you closed the door. There was a gun to your head, and making a deal with Nishimura Riki was the only visible way to survive. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

[tulipsforvin]

Hello, may I trouble you with one silly request? 👉👈 Moriarty brothers headcanon reaction on first meeting their future s/o when she's climbing over the fence in awkward fashion (wearing a dress and carrying a heavy parcel). Fem! s/o, or gn!, I don't really mind. Thank you, wishing you lots of fun and positivity!✨💖

This is like that one scene from Horimiya lolll I had tons of fun writing this. Thank you for the request, anon! Hope you have a marvellous day/night awaiting you.

Characters: Louis J. Moriarty, William J. Moriarty, Albert J. Moriarty.

Tags: Fluff, Very, very, very slight angst (At Albert's part), Headcannons, Moriarty The Patriot.

Format: Headcannons.

Note: Just a heads up - some are pre-timeskip and post-timeskip. Might cause confusion.

“Beyond The Fence„

Moriarty Brothers x GN!Reader

William J. Moriarty

(Pre-timeskip)

— He finds you while talking a stroll through the university during his lunch break, grasping feebly onto the wires of the fence as you make a horrible effort to climb over it.

— “Who would need actual hurdling equipment for aspiring athletes such as yourself when there is the university fence to conquer?”

— You would tell him that your brother was a student here and that he forgot his lunch box, that you were sneaking it in through the fence because the guard at the gates wasn't letting you in.

— “Allow me.” William says, amused as he holds out his hand for you to pass the cake onto before setting it down. He then scales the fence effortlessly, making it seem like an easy task before he helps you cross to the other side.

— He offers to hand it over to your brother in your stead.

— Playful banter that makes you giddy.

— “Professor Moriarty, are you plotting to snatch a slice of this cake?” “I assure you, my interests lie in far greater endeavours. Although your delectable confectioneries do seem tempting.”

“i suppose I'll have to keep an eye out, just in case it falls in the wrong hands.” “I must say, I'm quite offended. Are you perhaps implying that I am the wrong hands? I could offer you a wealth of knowledge and intellectual discourse and yet, you suspect me of cake thievery.” “I suspect you of great many things. Cake thievery is just one of the more delightful possibilities.”

— Literally how it goes for the remaining semester. The two of you meet everyday during lunch break under the guise of making William deliver your brother's lunchbox, when in reality, the two of you have begun to grow feelings far surpassing platonic ones and just want to spend more time with each other.

Albert J. Moriarty

(Post-timeskip)

— You, an avid botanist, absolutely obsessed with the nature of plant life, find yourself trying to claw your way up the fence and to the other side where a burying ground lies that you thought was abandoned since the gates to enter it was locked and that you found a really unique species of flora there. The parcel contains all the studies you have been researching for the past three years.

— Imagine the awkwardness that one must feel when you lock eyes with Albert, who thinks you're a creep trying to steal bones or bodies, gazes back at you with uncertainty.

— “I am afraid you won't be able to get your hands on any bones here. These graves are all empty, you see — with one for my younger brother who's body has yet to be found since his initial dissapearance and for me and the youngest to lie in when our time comes.”

— You feel guilty for trespassing onto private property and immediately start apologizing, head bowed as you make an attempt to frantically explain your reason of arrival.

— He seems even further intrigued when your focus lands on the empty graves, lush green grass and flowers emerging from the burial site. You begin to tell him about what the flowers that have grown on the grave where his younger brother, William, should supposedly be put to rest symbolise.

— “Moonflowers symbolise the awakening of a soul. A new beginning. I am sure that your younger brother has found a new start somewhere, perhaps in the afterlife but a new start nonetheless.” “..ah” is all he says before he begins to full on sob infront of you, a total stranger.

— From that day onwards, he finds solace in your company, tagging along on the journeys you go to for your research on plant life; falling asleep at the sound of your voice or gazing at you dreamily when you go on & on about your passions.

Louis J. Moriarty

(Post-timeskip)

— A huge festival was coming up. Thus, explaining the streets that are all bustling and noisy with human life trying to get past each other and squeezing in even from the smallest of gaps and crevices.

— You, a talented seamstress who has been commissioned to deliver a beautifully crafted dress find yourself in a dilemma; trying to think of a way to get past through these crowds and to your destination without issue.

— You decide that a fence, out of all things, would be the easiest way to reach your destination. And so you begin your attempts to climb over, the dress you're wearing making things only further difficult.

— “Excuse me, do you perhaps need help with the dress and the fence?” “Yes, please! Business has been bad lately and I just really need to deliver this so I can continue to be able to be able to pay rent for my boutique.”

— Will observe the dress in the parcel first to make sure you're not actually lying before nodding his head and agreeing to help you.

— Although he seems very focused on the task, such as the tasks assigned to the M16, he still can't help but help a person in need.

— “Your talent deserves recognition. As luck would have it, I have connections with influential individuals in society. I could help spread the word about your boutique and introduce you to clients.” [literally the government and a man (Read Mycroft) who serves directly under the Queen.]

— That's how it starts - the beginning of your romance. Louis helps you with your boutique and you, in exchange, deliver information that you hear from clients at your workshop regarding jobs that could help him in the M16.

[sun-roach]

I already mentioned these to @commander-sunshine but here are some of my head canons about A-17's favorite batch, because I am still thinking about them

I will start with the oldest of the batch:

Wolffe: Wolffe has that protective shabuir aura older siblings have. He is logical, has a hardshell and is sassy af. He wants to do the right thing at all times and perhaps is afraid of failures (especially after he lost his pack). As a cadet he was that one kid, who acted older and tougher than they were. He would try to be the brother to look up to. Tho wolffe is born sassy. It’s very easy to get under his skin and his vod'ike all respect and love to tease him with the simplest things. He can be an asshole if he wants to, which is almost every time when his vod'ike decide to be shitheads. His sense of humor is probably a little weird but at the same time very hilarious

Next is Fox: Fox is Wolffe’s twin. He is only a few milliseconds younger than him, which is why Fox hates it so much when Wolffe plays the 'I-am-the-older-twin'-card. Much like Wolffe, Fox is very protective of his brothers and shows it in weird ways since both aren’t good expressing their feelings. They both would rather bottle their feelings up than to burden anyone. Tho while Wolffe is more straightforward and rational, Fox is more sneaky and intuitive. That’s why the two argue almost 24/7. They are just too similar and yet so different. Also never anger Fox. As a cadet he bit a lot of brothers and kicked their shebs during sparring. In my head canon he was one of the best, if not the best, which is why he became the commander of the coruscant guard, directly serving the chancellor. His humor tho was probably dark since his early ages thanks to his perception and intuition

Ponds is the true middle child: He is always overlooked, despite him trying his best at all times. He is one of the kindest souls and always honest and true to himself. Thanks to him being overlooked tho, he can get away with a loooot of shit. He probably played so many pranks but no one ever suspected him. He is that sibling to take responsibility and lead when no one else will. Most of the vod'ike would probably go to him to confess anything, since wolffe and fox tend to be more… unhinged with their problem solving. Ponds humor probably contains a lot of word plays and puns. He doesn’t try to be funny tho

Now Bly: Bly is similar to Ponds but leans towards the younger brother category. He too is sometimes overlooked/ overshadowed by his siblings but not as bad as Ponds. If Bly plays pranks everyone will know that it was him. I think as a cadet Bly was very sensible and naive. He would make a lot of bets and end up losing so much, that Fox and his intuition would need to come to the rescue and het him back to the winning end. Bly is very caring and empathetic. His humor is kinda dorky and he sometimes ends up saying the wrong things despite his good intentions

And the youngest of the batch is Cody: Yes Cody is very responsible, tough and proud… but underneath all that… Cody is… he just has that little-shit energy. He plays and acts big, he is very talented and skilled in anything he does, but oh god that man was such a feral trouble maker as a cadet. Cody is so kriffing competitive he would challenge anyone walking past him. Most of the time he would challenge Fox. I think Cody and Fox had a special bond. They are both very competitive and see things in a similar ways. They just have mutual understandings of any situation. (This is also the reason why I think that Cody would have often visited Fox after order 66. They were both working for the empire and Cody slowly came to realize what Fox must have gone trough. I think Fox's death was an additional reason to go awol and find obi-wan)

Anyway Cody was an extreme brat, yet very caring and gentle when he saw someone in need of compassion. He always wanted to be an older brother and teach and help others.

With Rex he got that: Rex is the babiest baby of the batch. He is literally the batches favorite and no one tries to even hide it. Rex got all the cuddle and all the love his batch had to offer. Anyone who treated Rex like a defect because of his blonde hair… well lets say they all ended up in a medbay. Tho Rex was a little shit too. Not like Cody, but still a little shit. Rex would sometimes do the craziest things, but did he ever got punished for them? No. Did Cody get blamed for his chaos? Yes absolutely.

Rex and Cody were always close. They would prank their ori'vode nearly everyday and never did anyone blame kyute little Rex. Rex is also the only one who can stop any of their batchmates temper tantrums. Yet he likes to watch the chaos that are his brothers.

Bonus:

Rex watching Cody getting scolded for his chaos:

Cody looking at Rex after the scolding:

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: Amidst the chaos of learning the truth about Tanya, you meet someone from the past and things develop between you and Daemon.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

As you heard the news about Tanya, your heart started to race and your chest began to feel tight. You knew that you needed a moment to yourself, so you hastily excused yourself from the cafeteria and ran hurriedly to make your way to the fourth floor to get to your room.

On the way you saw Daemon as he was being escorted for his session and the washed out look on your face concerned him to say the least.

As soon as you went inside your room, you locked the door and sat down on the bed to think about Tanya. Poor girl, she was suffering so much with her sickness while she was here. But she seemed so happy while she was discharged, she hugged you so warmly as if she couldn't wait to get out of this place, then what happened to her?

And Why was her body found near King's landing?

You were lost in all the questions when you remembered the note you had found under her mattress so you quickly got up and reached into your closet.

Reading the note now filled you with immense guilt and uneasiness, at first you had assumed that she was just paranoid of her environment, a mental health facility wasn't exactly a happy place to be in, you figured that it was one of her personalities just writing anything but now your heart felt sinking into your guts as you realized that the note could have been a distress call for help.

Perhaps she knew something, or someone who was trying to harm her. You felt nauseous about the implications of the note, perhaps you could have helped her if you had passed on the note to the police. You should have looked for her, why didn't you?

Tears rolled down your eyes as you remembered her sweet face, she was so young and kind and she didn't deserve whatever had happened to her.

That afternoon members of the staff were informed that the police would be interviewing each member separately, you had never been questioned by the police before so obviously it made you nervous.

You couldn't even breathe properly, at one moment it seemed as if you'd die of a heart attack like your mother did.

As you were finally called in, you went inside Dr Darren’s office, the investigation was being held there.

“Good afternoon” you mumbled as you sat down. There were two men sitting opposite you, a middle aged brown haired man and the other one with dark hair seemed younger, and he also seemed familiar for some reason.

"I'm Detective Hightower," the older man said, introducing himself and his partner, "Detective Criston." You nodded nervously and tried to take in a deep breath, but your chest felt constricted still..

"You seem nervous," Det. Criston Spoke as he offered you a glass of water. "Have a drink”

“I'm fine..i am just nervous” you spoke nervously,

“Don't be.. it's routine..we just have a few questions regarding Tanya Anderson” Your eyes teared up as Det. Hightower said her name.

“Sure” you were looking anywhere but at the officers and you wondered if they would see you as a suspect because you were acting really suspicious.

“You're tearing up, I can imagine it must be hard as you were assigned as her custodian, is that correct?” Det. Criston asked, his voice firm but professional.

“Yeahh”

You had tried so hard to control your tears but you failed eventually so you placed your hand over your eyes as you cried as silently as you could. Det. Criston got up from his chair and offered you the glass of water so you took it from him this time.

“Thank you and I'm sorry”

You mumbled meekly so Det. Hightower gave you a comforting smile.

“It's alright, take your time”

A minute later you finally took a deep breath and looked up at them.

“Okay I'm ready..thank you for being so kind” you said politely as you recovered from the outburst you had just now.

“No issues..so y/n..how long have you been here for?”

“Two years”

“Was Miss Tanya the first person you looked after, not just as a custodian but as a friendly companion as well?” Hightower asked so you shook your head in response.

“There are several patients I care for while I'm on duty, she was one of them but we definitely got along, she just seemed so out of place here when she wasn't suffering from her ailments” they looked at each other as you said that.

“What do you mean?” Hightower inquired,

“She seemed normal most of the time and then sometimes she would freak out out of nowhere, she was suffering from multiple personality disorder or something. Dr. Vis was treating her here at the facility” you told them so Hightower nodded his head as he wrote down your statement. Why did you have to mention Vis? They must know that already.

“Alright …did she ever tell you anything personal, about anyone trying to hurt her or just anything really?” Criston inquired so you shook your head.

“No, not really, she often talked about her childhood but never went into much detail.”

“Okay good, thanks for your time y/n, we will connect again if required” Criston said to you so you nodded and as you were about to get up you realized that now was the one and only chance you'd get to tell them about the note you had found, even though it might get you in trouble with the management.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked nervously so Det. Hightower gave you a slight nod.

“What happened to her? When did she die?” You asked them solemnly so they shared a look with each other.

“It's a classified information that we can't share just yet”

“Okay ummm the day after she was discharged from here, I was cleaning her room for the new patient and found this under her mattress, perhaps it can be of help”

Criston grabbed the piece of paper and as soon as he had read it, you saw the worried look on his face instantly.

“Who else knows about this?” Hightower asked you.

“Nobody” as you answered you noticed that he seemed instantly relieved.

“Thanks for bringing this up to us”

You nodded as they dismissed but as you stepped out of the office you heard Detective Criston calling your name so you turned around.

“Hey y/n..I think you didn't recognise me in there” You looked at him confused as he said that, he did seem familiar. “It's Cole, we went to middle school together.. perhaps the term rock boy would jog your memory?”

“Oh you're the boy that collected rocks ..oh i know youuuu” you smiled as you finally recalled the memory, it brought an unexpected smile to your face. “So detective huh? That's amazing... wow that's so cool” you said to him as you crossed your arms.

“Thank you..well i am still obsessed with collecting rocks though” You let out a small laugh as he said that.

“Why have I never seen you here before?” You asked him so he sighed deeply

“Because I just got transferred like a month ago, I was in Bradford before I got here” you nodded as he said that.

“Ahhh well okay..i better get back to my work now, but it was really nice catching up with you” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile.

“Sure”

“Ummm if you find out something about her. Will you let me know?” You asked him so he nodded in response.

“Is there a number I can call here to connect with you?” He asked you so you nodded so he took out a pen from the coat's pocket and offered you his palm as a parchment.

“Uhhh okay” you chuckled nervously as you grabbed onto his fingers to write the digits on his palm before you mumbled a goodbye..

As you turned around you saw Daemon standing a few feet away from you with two guards holding onto him. He was staring deeply into your soul and it made you nervous.

“Not this guy again” you heard Criston mumbling so you turned around to look at him. Did they know each other? The events of the day were becoming increasingly strange. It was especially puzzling since Daemon wasn't even here when Tanya left so why was he being questioned.

You hadn't seen Daemon all day, so visiting his room directly seemed risky. Waiting until night, you knocked on his door once before sneaking into the terrace and walked towards the ledge, looking down. Your heart sank again as you thought about Tanya, imagining her final moments stirred emotions you didn't wish to face. You couldn't shake off the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you weren't there for her when she needed someone in her corner.

The scent of mahogany filled your nostrils before he had his arm wrapped around your waist so you turned around and hugged him tightly, finally letting the tears out. Caressing your head gently he then placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your fingers clenched around his shirt as you felt the warmth of his body, on a cold night he felt like a comforting bonfire.

“I found a note under the mattress, a cry for help and i ignored it..i thought she probably wrote it in her fits of paranoia, what if I had caused it…what if it could have been prevented if I had gone to the authorities or perhaps if I would have checked on her–” your lips trembled as you spoke, you had been keeping it all in since this morning and his hot comforting embrace was all you needed in the moment.

“Shhhhh it's not your fault alright? You couldn't have known darling..it's an unfortunate tragedy but you can't put the blame on yourself okay” you shook your head as he said that so he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears “Hey look at me..not your fault, none of this is your fault” he mumbled softly so you placed your head back on his chest and nodded as you let out your tears until you couldn't cry any more.

Once your breathing leveled back to normal you pulled away from him.

“Why did they call you in for questioning? You weren't even here back then” you asked him, worry evident in your voice.

“I don't really know..why did that copper have your telephone number on his palm?” He asked you, a hint of jealousy visible and it made you smile a little.

“We went to school together..he remembered me” he squinted his eyes for a moment before he rolled them around in typical Daemon fashion.

“He's an arse” he grumbled.

“Why would you say that? Do you know him from before?”

“It doesn't matter..how are you feeling?” he asked as he shifted the conversation again.

“Okay..I'm okay” you mumbled softly.

“You should get out of this forsaken place once in a while” he said to you.

“And go where..do what?”

“Anything..you're young and beautiful, live your fucking life” you let out a chuckle as he said that.

“And do exactly what out there? Get drunk in bars and have sex with random men?” he grabbed the back of your neck as you said that, the smirk on your face only boiled his anger. He hated imagining that scenario in his head, a sight of you in some other man's bed, writhing and moaning underneath him.

“I'd kiss you right now if I wasn't your first kiss” he whispered against your mouth so you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill from deep within you.

“I have been kissed before”

“I don't think so”

The audacity. Not that he was wrong.

“It wasn't consensual but i have been kissed” his brows furrowed as you said that.

“Elaborate”

“You don't want to know trust me”

“I do want to know”

“Well long story short I was at party with few of my friends, I got drunk out of my mind and then started to cry because I was just sad.. really sad, about my life and I kept crying and this guy that I was dancing with kissed me out of nowhere.. and i hated it, I didn't like it at all” you mumbled hurriedly so he grabbed your cheeks between his palms. If he had enough information he'd have found the guy and perhaps beat him to pulp for touching you like that in your vulnerable advantageous state.

“I'm starting to see why you're so appalled by intimacy”

“I'm not against it..i just don't want to do it with every other fella” he smirked as you responded. He knew you would want to do it with him sooner or later, his ego was soaring these days due to that particular reason.

“Kissing a person you adore is a high darling, nothing short of a drug” he whispered in your ear so you pulled away from him to control yourself.

“You must have kissed many people then” you taunted him so he chuckled.

“Didn't really adore half of them”

“Well i didn't enjoy being kissed so–”

“Were you attracted to that bloke who forced himself upon you?” he asked strictly.

“No”

“That's why..you have to have the hots for the man who's into your mouth darling” you bit on your lips as he said that. You had definite hots for him and you wanted his mouth in yours.

“We should go”

Before we do something stupid you thought.

He stared at your lips for a moment so you placed your hands on his chest and nudged him slightly to get out of his warmth but you weren't really expecting what he was about to say next. Unpredictable as always.

“Sleep with me tonight” his tone was deathly serious and you couldn't deny how your intimate areas were tingling at the prospect of it.

“Are you joking?” you chuckled to hide your arousal.

“No ..I'm not joking, I'm not asking you to have sex with me, just sleep with me, in the same bed”

“That's not a good idea at all”

It was a great idea but a risk you couldn't take these days, besides you had never slept with a man you were attracted to before.

“I'll come to your window..nobody will know”

“No ..stop..lets go” you giggled as you dragged him along with you to take him back to his room.

Once you laid down in your bed, your mind shifted from thoughts of Tanya to those of Daemon, you wondered how it would feel to have him so close to you, his mouth rubbing against yours slowly and sensually.

The following day, you were assigned to clean room 390, formerly occupied by Mrs. Rodriguez, who had been discharged. This left you surprised, considering her frail mental state. While tidying up, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, and Doctor Vis stepped in, his presence intimidating and commanding like always.

“Good morning doctor” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile and walked closer to you, you didn't even understand what he was doing or why he was looking at you like that but a part of you knew it couldn't have been about anything else but Daemon. Your life seemed to revolve around him only these days.

“Did you hear about the upcoming gala on Sunday?” He asked you so you nodded in response. The fundraising gala was traditionally held annually at King's Landing institution, offering a unique opportunity for patients, doctors, and staff to come together for one night, setting apart from the usual daily routine.

“I want you to take my…uhhh i want you to make sure that Daemon is on his best behavior at the gala” He said to you, making you all perplexed about his motive.

“How would I do that?” you asked him firmly so he smiled again.

“Just keep him engaged in conversations, think of it as a part of your duty and you'll earn a hefty bonus immediately”

Well the bonus would be nice but the entire situation bewildered you. Why did he only assign these extra tasks to you? Especially after that day when he had seen Daemon attacking you?

On the night of the gala, you chose to pamper yourself with a refreshing shower and meticulous grooming. After doing your makeup, you slipped into a black, full-length dress gifted to you by your mother, a piece you had never worn before, you never found the occasion for it.

You didn't dress up this lavishly for the previous galas as you really didn't care unlike this year. The dress featured thin straps that hugged your figure, a smidgen of cleavage on display, leaving you feeling both elegant but also slightly exposed. However you wanted to look sexy tonight, it was strange having such feelings, wanting to dress up for someone, getting all dolled up so he'd look at you differently and would perhaps make your knees tremble with his inappropriate touching and filthy words.

You enjoyed that feeling.

As you reached the main hall you felt everyone's eyes on you, especially your colleagues, they were not used to seeing you so made up.

There were plenty of influential people invited at the gala, it was a grand affair, alot to look forward to but your eyes wandered around to just see him, besides you had a job to do.

You didn't know what you were expecting but you definitely didn't expect to see Daemon in an all black suit that gave him the aura of a royal prince. Two guards had been appointed by the Viserys to bring him to the venue but as he entered Viserys gestured them to uncuff him from the shackles and then he gestured to you to keep an eye on him. The look hadn't gone unnoticed by Daemon as he walked towards you.

“Who knew you were hiding all this behind that granny dress you wear everyday” he mumbled as he neared you so you rolled your eyes.

“Who knew you were capable of wearing a two-piece suit?” you retorted making him chuckle in response

“You look gorgeous love” he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips,

“You look handsome” you responded honestly.

“Thank you”

“I'll get a drink” you turned around to get to the bar as you felt flushed under his intense gaze. As soon as you had your back to him he stared at your hips shamelessly while you walked away from him and cursed profanities under his breath, the dress hugged you in all the right places and his instincts were screaming at him to pounce on you right now.

To claim you in every possible way, show you what you were missing in your bed every night.

He was half a wild unruly creature and sometimes you made it really hard for him to keep that animal intact inside him, your alluring presence ignited the fire already burning within him, compelling him to satisfy that beast who just wanted to mate with his mate.

You made it really hard for him, literally and figuratively.

His eyes met with Shyla at the other end of the hallway but she quickly looked away as he approached you.

“It's my birthday” he mumbled as he stood next to you at the bar so you looked at him surprised.

“Really?”

“You can check my records”

“Why didn't you tell me all day?” You asked him so he rolled his eyes.

“I don't celebrate it”

“Why not?” you probed further to make him open up so he sighed.

“You need friends and family to do so.. didn't have any of that growing up” there was a hint of sadness in his tone and you felt your heart clenching at the sight of him.

“Well..how old are you now?”’

“35.. I feel ancient”

“I hear you” you hesitated for a moment before you spoke further,

“I have a job to do ..Dr. Vis have asked me to keep you in line and in return i would receive an early bonus” he chuckled as you said that, clearly amused.

“He's an imbecile” he scoffed

“True but he's being cautious, you areeee unpredictable” you admitted to which he responded with a smirk.

“Uhhhuh and that arse thinks a pretty little thing like you would get me under control if I wanted to go berserk right about now?” he asked arrogantly as he stepped closer to you. The scent of mahogany made your knees weak already and he hadn't even touched you yet.

“Perhaps I can do that” you replied confidentially as if to challenge him.

“You're overconfident love…I care about you but you can't tie me on a leash and have me wrapped around your fingers like a domestic pet” His words were affecting you in ways you couldn't even describe to yourself, you didn't think it was possible to feel so turned on by a man speaking to you so callously.

"Mhmmm, perhaps I would simply have to manipulate you emotionally." He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you challenged him again.

“And how would you do that?”

“Like this” you made a sad face and your eyes teared up suddenly as you looked at him with that pathetic puppy look on your face, his eyes softened for a moment before he realized that you were messing with him.

“Oh you little minx”

You couldn't help but grin at his response, feeling the sizzling chemistry between you, the flirting and the electric tension filling the air. The sight of him dressed so sharply added fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within your core. He then walked so close to you that there was not an inch of space left between your bodies, for a moment you worried about being seen like this but his words kept you hooked to him.

“Ask me to be nice and I won't disappoint you” he whispered in your ear.

“Will you be nice please?” You asked him softly so he caressed the bridge of your nose before he stepped away from you.

“You got it Princess”

And he upheld his promise, throughout the gala he was well behaved and polite with everyone, not that many people were interacting with him. He was misunderstood and he had done nothing to diffuse those rumors about him attacking Shyla. Sometimes you envied the power he had where he didn't give any fucks about his reputation.

Later that night you grabbed a piece of cake and made your way to his room, he had left the Gala before you and you didn't want to look suspicious so you waited for a bit before you stole the cake and sneaked out quietly.

Like always he had his door open so you entered immediately.

As expected, you found him standing by the window, his arms resting against the frame, the soft light of the moon bathing his silhouette.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled softly as he turned around and his gaze met with yours. The gentle flicker of the candle you had carefully placed on the cake casted a warm orange hue and he didn't know what it was about the gesture but it made him want to cry. All his adult life he had fought against emotions like these but with you he was failing miserably.

He walked towards you as he stared at you so you gestured towards the cake,

“Blow and make a wish” you told him so he chuckled and shook his head but his resolved melted as you made a pout, you didn't bring any fork so you cut the corner of the slice with your fingers and offered the sweet delicious treat to him, you weren't really expecting him to suck your fingers clean off the delicious cream. He grabbed the plate from your hands and stepped away from you to place it on the dresser before he approached you again.

“I want to touch you” he murmured under his breath and your heart ceased to beat for a moment.

“Where?” you asked hesitantly but evidently turned on by the husky whisper of his voice.

“Everywhere” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest so you looked up at him.

“You can't start touching me everywhere at once, it's …scary” you mumbled softly.

His fingers trailed up from your wrist and you shuddered as they caressed the curve of your shoulders, he messed around with the straps of your dress before he lowered them down, exposing your clavicle and a bit of cleavage, it wasn't really much but you felt as if you were all naked , you felt as if he could see right through you and the thought made you feel so aroused.

As his thumbs traced over your collarbone, your eyes rolled back in your head involuntary.

“Is this alright? Not too much, hmm?” he asked, his voice gentle but slightly mocking in your ears.

“No..not much..” the trembling of your voice betrayed the conviction in your words.

“Yet you're shaking like a leaf” he murmured as his thumb traced over the curve of your breasts, ragged breaths escaped your chest at the touch. You could feel yourself dripping in your thong. “Depriving yourself of such pleasures all your life? It's a shame darling, a woman as sensual as you was made to be ridden every night”

You silenced him with a gentle press of your palm against his lips as he spoke filthily.

“I don't want to be touched by anyone or everyone” you mumbled meakly as his hands wrapped around your neck like a necklace, his hold both possessive and gentle at the same time.

“And I would be honored if you'd allow me to savor a part of you that you've never shared before, my sweet girl. I promise to keep it safe, secure, and thoroughly pleased.” your eyes moistened at the sincerity in his voice.

“Mmmmhm? Kiss me then”

You looked him in the eye and cupped his cheeks as before you got angled up and pecked his lips briefly.

He leaned down and took a whiff of your scent before he sucked a mark on your neck, his lips then trailed up to your jaw and as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you felt your knees trembling with anticipation.

“Daemon” you whispered against his mouth as he cupped your cheeks.

“Mmm?” He asked, concern filled his voice as he didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

“I …adore you..very much”

“As do i”’

With those words he then planted his lips on yours, your breath hitched in your chest as you gasped in his mouth, the wave of feelings that you experienced felt unfamiliar. This feeling that you had, you couldn't have anticipated it. It definitely wasn't the same as kissing your own hand as a child to practice kissing, and it definitely didn't feel as awful as it had with that man you didn't even remember the name of. He let go of your upper lips and looked at you for a moment,

“I'm not kissing you back am i?” You asked him between your bated breaths but he didn't answer, he smiled instead and leaned down to capture your lower lip into his mouth , his hands cupping your other cheeks as he pulled you closer to him.

The feeling of his warm big hands rubbing over the curve of your rear flipped a switch inside you right then and you reciprocated his movements, arms curled around his neck as you followed the rhythm of his mouth.

For the first time in your life you felt as if you were in a hazy dream, this feeling felt too good to be true, and for the first time your boring mundane life felt as exciting and as thrilling as those wild dreams you have had all your life. And it terrified you if you were being honest with yourself.

As his tongue slipped into your mouth you were a goner, the taste of him was something you could see yourself getting addicted to, it offered you a euphoric high like that of a drug as he had said, it felt intoxicating, but it was a high no other drug could ever compare to.

As the kiss deepened, he didn't pull away until he was gasping for breath, stealing the air from your lungs with each frantic inhale. Doubts filled your head, and you wondered whether the kiss was as magical for him as it was for you. Did he feel the fire burning within his soul, or was this moment merely a fleeting distraction for him?

“It is” he mumbled softly as peppered kisses all over your face so you looked at him confused “it is as magical for me as it was for you darling”

You still didn't understand how he was so intuitive, perhaps he had a strong sixth sense or something, considering that he was half dragon, you were still on the fence of believing it completely.

“Turn around for me” he asked you, his tone commanding so you hesitated for a moment before you complied. Then, the cool touch of metal wrapping around your neck caught you off guard, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Honestly you just wanted to kiss him again and then again.

“Daemon–”

“It's a gift…belonged to my mother” You turned around to look at him as he said that.

“I don't think I deserve it yet” you whispered softly so he placed his fingers on your lips to shut you up.

“Just keep it .. please”

“Okay”

He placed his forehead down on yours as he sighed so you tucked his hair behind his ears before you cupped his cheeks.

“What is bothering you?”

He wasn't the only one with strong senses it seems.

“Nothing” he mumbled as he grabbed the locket of the pendant between his fingers and contemplated his words before speaking “Don't put it on in front of Viserys”

“Viserys?” You looked at him confused so he nodded.

“Dr. Vis”

He had a full name? Why didn't you know that after all these years?

“Okay..why though?” Your puzzled expression prompted him to sigh again.

“He'd recognise it..it belonged to my mother” his answer only confused you further.

“Why would he know about this Daemon?” you asked him as the curiosity piqued, you knew Dr Vis had been treating him for a while but why would he know about the necklace you thought, it was personal. And that's when he revealed the truth about his relationship with the man you knew as Dr. Vis.

“Cause he's my brother.. he's my older brother”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[lavenderlegends]

you drew stars around my scars

ship: stiles/derek prompt: star gazing characters: lydia, isaac, pack mention cw: mentions of dead parents tags: FLUFFFFFFFF word count: 2.2k ao3

♞♚♞♚

It's been a long day. Make that a long week. Actually, a long month. Maaaybe even a long year. It's been back-to-back monsters that seem to keep popping up every week. And Stiles? He's tired.

The pack needs a vacation. Desperately. But Lydia spent all last weekend ignoring the fae issue and created a schedule. Bless her. And Stiles has the first shift off from monster hunting. Along with Derek. They're the only single people in the pack these days, so it makes sense they'd pair off together. It gives all the couples and partners time to make plans and afford to keep them.

But Stiles is restless.

Being off-duty is hard. He has no idea what the pack is dealing with this week. He's been completely shunned from any sort of knowledge, because everyone knows he'd try to help.

He climbs out his window, dragging a thin blanket with him, and sets it up on the roof of the porch. He doesn't know exactly what he's doing but maybe gazing at some stars will help.

There used to be a time in his life when he'd be able to do this and just wonder at all the possibilities in the world. But now, now he knows anything's possible and it feels a little heavy.

There's a snap of a branch and then suddenly, he's not alone.

"What are you doing?" Derek asks in lieu of a greeting.

"Star gazing. Have you ever heard of it?" Stiles asks, shifting over on his blanket. They don't have to discuss it. It's understood that Derek will join him.

"Hm," is all Derek says before he settles down on the blanket with Stiles. "Why are you doing it?"

"I used to do this all the time as a kid," Stiles whispers, as if he's suddenly afraid to spook the universe by talking about something normal. "It was my favourite thing to do with my mom."

"Oh." Derek shifts. "Should I--?"

"No, no," Stiles murmurs. He reaches out and pulls Derek back down. "Stay."

So, Derek does.

"What are you doing here? It's like one in the morning," Stiles says, turning his head to get a better view of Derek.

"Star gazing," Derek answers. He turns his head on the blanket to look at Stiles. "I don't know. Couldn't sleep. Figured you'd be up too."

"This whole shift thing is great in theory," Stiles mumbles.

"Yeah. I thought I'd be grateful for the break, but it's turning out to be a lot harder to slow down." Derek shifts and then adds, "This is nice though."

"Yeah." Stiles can't seem to tear his eyes away from Derek's. "Yeah, it is."

They don't talk for a while, but it's not as awkward as Stiles thought it would be with Derek. Maybe they've been at this whole monster-hunting thing for so long, the silence is a welcomed presence. He's not sure.

But it becomes a habit after that. On nights they can't sleep. Even when they're on-duty protecting Beacon Hills from the monster of the week.

Stiles starts to look forward to it, even. Humming when he suspects Derek will be coming over.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Lydia asks one day when he's doing just that.

"Huh?" Stiles looks up from the book where he's researching vampires. "Nothing."

"No, no," she says, shaking her finger at him. "I know you, Stilinski. Something... or perhaps, someone has you humming. Are you dating?"

He laughs, because the idea is so ridiculous. "Me? Dating? No. Despite being surrounded by relationships, I am not seeing anyone. Single as a pringle, Lyds. That's me."

"Mhm," she says. "If you say so."

"I do," he replies before closing the book. "Nothing in that one..."

"Right," she says. "Back to work."

And the next time he hums, he finds Isaac looking at him curiously. Stiles can't help it; they're on a stake-out together and it's boring. Nothing's happening.

"What?" Stiles asks after a moment. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah. Happiness." Isaac pauses before adding, "It's a good look, man. I'm glad you're happy."

"I'm--" but Stiles can't bring himself to say the words.

Is he happy?

Hardly.

But he's going home tonight, setting out a blanket, and he even had time to swing by to pick up a pre-made charcuterie board. And he'll spend some time with Derek, talking about the most mundane things.

And that's exactly what they do when Derek climbs up the tree and swings onto the roof.

"Oh!" he says with a pleased smile. "You brought food. I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"No, no, it's fine," Stiles is quick to reassure. "We just followed the witches to the grocery store, so I thought I'd just... it's dumb, isn't it?"

"Nope. I'm starving." Derek settles down beside him, a soft smile on his face. "Tonight, Boyd, Erica, and I had to follow the warlock to the sewers."

"You're old home," Stiles jokes.

"Shut up." But there's nothing but amusement in Derek's expression. He picks up some cheese and asks, "How'd it go with you and Isaac?"

"Fine," Stiles says, shrugging. "The witch just did like, regular people thing. I'm starting to think she's not much of a threat."

"Mm, I wouldn't be too sure. Witches are powerful, and a huge threat to werewolves. They're always after our fur."

"What?!" Stiles bursts out laughing and only manages to calm himself when Derek shushes him. Stiles grins. "Don't worry, Dad's not home tonight. But really? Your fur?"

"Yeah. It has magical properties in some spells," Derek explains. "What? Is that so ridiculous?"

"A little," Stiles says, chuckling. "But enough about work. I want you to finish that story about your parents."

"Oh, yeah!" Derek settles in and launches into the longest, winding story Stiles has ever heard him tell. He laughs at all the right moments, gasps where appropriate, and shakes his head when Derek gets really into it. It's almost out of character for him, but Stiles has really seen him open up. He understands Derek more. And there's nothing in this world that Derek loves more than talking about his parents.

"Scott, Allison, and Isaac kind of remind me of my parents," Derek continues. "It's such a messy beginning to a beautiful relationship."

Stiles feels his face soften. "You are such a soft wolf."

"Hardly," Derek mutters. "Remember, you're human. I could eat you for breakfast and--"

"But you wouldn't," Stiles murmurs.

It seems to catch Derek off-guard, but he agrees even quieter. "But I wouldn't."

"I like this side of you, Hale." Stiles shifts on the blanket and picks up a piece of cheese. He chucks it at Derek, who catches it in his mouth using his werewolf reflexes. "Why don't we get to see this side of you all the time?"

Derek considers this for a long moment. Stiles is almost certain he's forgotten the question by the time he answers. "I think, because we haven't really had time to slow down. We're constantly in war, fighting with someone or something. And..."

"And?" Stiles prompts.

"There's something about star gazing with you," Derek admits. "That's all."

"That's all?" Stiles asks, reaching over to gently push Derek's shoulder. "I think there's more to it than that, but I won't hold it against you."

"You really wanna know?"

"I really, really do." Stiles flutters his eyelashes dramatically in the moonlight. Derek laughs. It's the prettiest sound he's ever heard. Stiles wonders if he could record it so he could listen to it all the time.

Derek shifts and pushes the charcuterie board out of the way. He settles down and stares up at the sky. Stiles follows suit, wondering if maybe it's easier to talk when they're not looking directly at each other.

"You remind me of my mom."

They're not the words Stiles expects, and they take his breath away. He reaches out and slips his fingers in between Derek's.

"She would've loved you. Cora and Laura are both more like my dad. They're strong, no nonsense, bold... but my mom..." Derek whispers. "She had ADHD like you. Was scatterbrained. Would do something - anything - just for the story. Fearless and stubborn."

Stiles stays silent and simply squeezes Derek's hand.

This is the best compliment he's ever received.

"She would go up against the scariest creature and tell them how it was. She didn't care." Derek pauses before adding, "She would've thought you were the bravest - and maybe stupidest - human out there. But she would've admired how much you love the pack, because no one loved as hard as her. But I think... I think you might."

Stiles stares up at the stars.

How does he put it into words how that makes him feel?

He turns his head to face Derek, who's already looking at him. Quietly, he says, "Thank you."

Derek's smiling softly, with tears building in the corner of his eyes. "Yeah. You're welcome."

"My mom would've loved you too," Stiles says after a while.

"You think?"

"Mhm. No one is as fiercely protective as she was - in the best way - but I think you come close." Stiles is surprised when Derek squeezes his hand. It feels so natural to be holding hands with him, Stiles almost forgot they were doing it. "She also would have loved your grumpiness. She would've told me that you put on a show, but you have the biggest heart of anyone she knows."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Stiles takes a breath and then lets it go. Talking about his mom meeting Derek is hard, but not so hard that it hurts. In fact, it brings him a little peace.

"Derek?"

"Mm?"

"I think our moms are best friends in another life," Stiles whispers.

"Me too." Derek squeezes his hand a little tighter. "Me too."

Stiles doesn't tell anyone about the conversation with Derek. Or how he's desperately, quickly, and passionately falling in love with him. He doesn't want to break the magic he's under, because he feels lovesick. Love drunk.

He doesn't know what Derek thinks. Maybe it's all platonic, but the next time they're star gazing together, Derek reaches for Stiles' hand. And the time after that, they lay a little closer.

And if Derek sometimes kisses Stiles' on the forehead before he says good night, it's no one's business but theirs.

That is until Lydia brings the pack together. She's standing in front of everyone and announces, "Alright, we're going to try a new rotation. Stiles, instead of breaking you off with Derek, we're going to put you with Erica and Boyd. And Derek, you'll get your break with Allison and I. This way--"

"No."

Lydia blinks. She looks at Stiles blankly, and he scrambles to catch up with the fact that he just said no. Out loud.

"Uh, I mean..."

"Why not? I thought this would work better, because it means there are less rotations and then we're on a four week schedule vs a five week schedule. And--"

"Lydia," Stiles says, not daring to look across the room at Derek. "I'm asking you to leave it as is."

"Oh." Lydia frowns. "Does, uh, does anyone else have any objections?"

The pack starts talking at once, but Stiles just silently glances at Derek while everyone's distracted. Derek's staring at him, his head tilted slightly, and his expression hopeful. Stiles doesn't know what to make of it.

"Alright, alright," Lydia says, commanding the room again. "We'll keep it as is for now, but we'll look at it during next month's meeting to see if it's still working."

The pack might not all agree, and Stiles knows it might be selfish to keep him and Derek on the same week off, but he doesn't care.

He's already planning his speech for tonight. He doesn't know entirely what he's going to say, but he has an idea. And that's enough.

When Derek hops onto the roof later that night, Stiles has the blanket already laid out. He sits instead of lying down, and he waits until Derek has silently settled in.

"So. That was an interesting pack meeting," Derek murmurs.

"Yeah." Stiles curses silently. He already sounds like a bumbling idiot. And instead of the speech he planned to say, he simply blurts, "I'm falling in love with you."

Derek doesn't dare show any change of expression on his face, but Stiles knows him better than that. There's a twitch in Derek's fingers, and that's all Stiles needs to see to know.

It's not a one-sided thing.

In fact, Stiles is starting to wonder just when did Derek fall for him?

Derek takes a moment. A long one. But he's very certain when he says, "I'm falling in love with you too."

A smile grows on Stiles' face and then he tackles Derek, pinning him down on the blanket. He hovers for a moment and quietly asks, "May I kiss you?"

"Yes," Derek breathes, and then they're kissing and it's everything and more that Stiles has dreamed of.

♞♚♞♚

"Alright," Lydia says at the next pack meeting. "I don't think we need to have Stiles and Derek on a week off together. I think - "

"We're together," Stiles announces.

The whole pack turns to look at him. Stiles snuggles up against Derek, slipping his fingers in between Derek's.

"So, please, do not change the duty schedule because we now have couple privilege."

Derek snorts, burying his face into Stiles' neck.

Everyone starts talking at once, but Stiles doesn't care. He turns to Derek and whispers, "Wanna get out of here?"

"The meeting just started," Derek whispers back.

"So?"

"Case made," Derek says, and then they're slipping out while everyone keeps discussing who knew what when.

♞♚♞♚