moriwoki

[mspaintbladie]

i think these two should date or something it would be neat

just kidding it would realistically go like this

(they also forgot where they were going so they're accidentally stuck with eachother)

[nebulaafterdark]

At The Pleasure Of The Crown

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.

It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.

“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”

Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.

“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.

He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”

“You are mean.”

Aegon frowns, “not to you.”

“You should not be mean to your brother either.”

“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.

“Yes,” Y/N pouts.

“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”

She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.

He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”

“Be kind.” Y/N insists.

“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”

Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.

“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”

Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.

“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.

“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”

Aemond says nothing.

“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”

“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”

“At least I’m loved.”

“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”

“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.

“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”

“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”

Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.

“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”

“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”

Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”

He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.

“Do you like to be petted?”

“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”

“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”

“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”

“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”

“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”

“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”

“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”

“You would lock me away?”

“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.

“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”

“That is what I would desire most from you.”

“We would never lie together?”

Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”

Y/N swallows, harshly.

“That is the way I would love you.”

————————————————————————

Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.

Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”

“The anthology of serpents.”

“Is it any good?”

“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.

“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.

“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”

“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.

“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.

“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”

“It’s a good read, in-”

“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”

“Do you come to this place often?”

“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.

“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”

“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”

“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”

He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.

“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.

“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”

“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.

“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”

Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”

Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.

Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.

“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.

“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”

“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”

“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.

Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”

Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”

“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.

“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.

They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.

“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.

“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”

Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”

“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”

Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”

“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.

Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.

“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.

Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”

“Close enough.”

Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.

“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.

She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.

Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”

Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.

He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”

She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”

And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.

“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”

“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”

“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”

“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.

“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.

Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”

“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”

“To what possible end?”

Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”

“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.

“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.

“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.

“Can’t you see?”

“Not at all.” He smirks.

“What do you see then?”

“A crown.” Aemond tells her.

“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.

“Beside the sword.”

“There is no sword.”

“And I say, there is no hound.”

Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”

“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.

Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”

“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”

Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”

Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.

Oh to be so loved.

Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.

“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.

With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”

————————————————————————

Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.

The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.

“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.

Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.

“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.

Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.

Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.

“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.

“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.

Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.

————————————————————————

“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”

“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”

“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”

“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.

“I love Aegon.”

Aemond nods. “Of course”

“And that is fine by you?”

He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”

“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”

“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”

Y/N bites her tongue.

“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”

“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.

“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”

“I did not mean for this to happen.”

“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”

“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”

“Has no one been angry at you before?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

Y/N swallows.

“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.

Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.

Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.

“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.

Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”

————————————————————————

The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.

“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”

Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”

“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.

“Aemond.”

No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.

Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.

“Lie back for me.”

Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.

“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.

He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.

“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.

Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.

Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.

Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.

He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.

Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.

“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”

She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.

He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”

Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.

“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”

Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.

“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”

“We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.

“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.

“Talk.”

He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”

“Have you come to care for him?”

“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”

Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”

“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.

Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.

Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.

Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.

He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.

“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.

“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”

Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”

Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”

Y/N nods, “of course.”

He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.

————————————————————————

Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.

He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”

“You have not been to the library.”

“I thought it best,” she nods.

“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.

“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”

“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”

“I suppose I would.”

“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.

“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.

He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”

“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.

“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”

“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.

“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.

“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”

“Of course,” Aemond smiles.

————————————————————————

Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.

“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.

“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.

“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”

Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“

“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”

“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”

Part 2

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - forced marriage, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and border-line shitpost energy.

It is common knowledge that Lord Scaramouche, Sixth Harbinger of the Snezhnayan Fatui, the nationally acclaimed and universally feared Balladeer, does not like to share his toys.

The timeline of your relationship should be proof enough of that -courted after only a handful of chance encounters during his time in your humble village, married as quickly as he could find an alter and an officiant willing to misinterpret your frantic sobbing as an 'I do', hastily locked away in an estate populated solely by masked guards and servants under strict instruction not to speak a word to you - but, if there was a soul in Teyvat who dared to ask for more evidence, you would happily point them towards the smoldering remains the book that you'd been too caught up in to keep track of one of his frequent one-sided rants, the patch of sand and stone that had once been the flower garden you lavished with all of the love and attention you'd withheld from him. He's as savage as he is predictable. His precious things, from his vast collection of porcelain dolls to the ancient sword that he keeps hidden in a velvet-lined box in his study, are safely stowed away, while yours are swiftly and mercilessly destroyed.

If there's something you'd like to keep, it has to be bargained for. You'll spend weeks singing his praises and cuddling up to his side, cooking all his favorite meals by hand (much to the distress of his small legion of private chefs) and letting him speak at length about the bloody, visceral vengeance he plans to rain down upon his countless enemies. It's only when you have him content and assured of your love for him that you pounce.

His lips purse, eyes narrowing. "No."

"Please, my lord." You lean forward, clasping your hands over your lap. "Won't you at least try to consider it?"

"Absolutely not." His tone is surprisingly haughty, especially considering his current position; head resting on your thighs, gaze pointed at some indistinguishable point on the far wall as you rake your fingers through his hair. "You expect me to strain my staff and myself just so you can... what? Visit your sister for a few boring days?"

"Her son is turning five, and she just had her first daughter. I thought it might be nice to see how she's doing and lend her a hand."

He scoffs. "You expect me to be so patient with you and yet, here you are, practically begging me to let you run off to the countryside just to see another man."

"Surely, you aren't denying my request because you're jealous of an infant."

"No. Whatever. Be quiet." If you didn't know better, you would think he's pouting. "My answer hasn't changed. I can't afford to spare that much thought on such a petty errand, not with the Tsaritsa as demanding as she is."

You hum, letting your head lull to the side. "You know," A weighted pause, your nails scraping against his scalp. "Her home isn't as... accommodating as yours. Her only spare room was converted into a nursery some years back, so we'd have to stay at an inn."

His lips quirk downward, unimpressed. "And?"

"And, there's only one in my village. It's quite a meager thing, too. Even this time of year, there's only going to be a few rooms available." Your touch lingers near the nape of his neck. "I know I usually insist on separate bedrooms, but given the circumstances, there's a good chance neither of us will be able to be so selfish."

There was a beat of silence, then another. You think, for a moment, that Scaramouche might be holding his breath, but you quickly remember that he doesn't breathe at all.

Finally, he responds. "A few days would make for a pathetic visit. Tell her that we'll be staying for a month."

As savage as he is predictable. That's all you could expect from your husband, wasn't it?

You lean down, pressing a fleeting kiss into his temple. "As you wish, my lord."

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story I

a/n: I have... not much to say, although you should read the warnings. But I need you guys to know that this is 7.666 words long. I didn't make it this way intentionally, but if that isn't devilish, I don't know what is :')

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Nothing explicit yet just drug-induced neediness and description of a cock doing what a cock does, Size... adoration, Begging), Violence (Thrashing, Breaking of bones, fighting machines, Verbal threats, mention of medical tools, syringes), Getting drugged non-consensually, Description of being drugged up, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Mention of Slavery, Mention of Abuse, Depiction of spoiled Food and Seal Meat, Very long post

"It truly is an impressive recovery of such a valuable resource! Being able to compare the exact date from years ago with now makes for a great opportunity in our research, and now we have two of them! This is your chance to recover from your mistakes all those years ago!"

With pep in his step, your supervisor led you through the long, cagey hallway of the facility, making it almost hard to follow him with all the enthusiasm he was displaying. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but dread as you held onto the notes you had been giving about your new project, almost feeling scared to glance at the papers.

You already knew what they'd say. The mistakes they'd speak of.

Because you were already familiar with the mermen, who had recently been caught by the facility. You freed them all those years ago out of shame and sympathy. And you paid the price, your unpaid labor bordering on slavery. Your choice had been death or continuing their research, and after looking down a gun barrel once, you decided to invest in your studies instead, the company willing to further your education and allow you to continue testing and working with the poor creatures they kept here—albeit with supervision.

"Talent like yours shouldn't be wasted," your supervisor recited the words of the facility owner, but they sounded like a warning coming from him rather than encouragement. 

When he finally stopped at the door farthest down the corridor, you were appalled to see the number on it, finding it less than funny that they'd assigned the same room from years ago as your new laboratory again. All these little digs they made at you never let you forget that they were still angry about what you did to sabotage the facility—as if you could ever. These digs were just there to make you miserable and establish who your life belonged to. You were replaceable, but you wouldn't get out of this alive. If you wanted to survive and have even the slightest chance of escaping this place of horrors one day, you'd have to obey. 

"So do better this time," your supervisor said, smiling down at you smugly as he pushed the door open, the heavy metals screeching with cold, metal bitterness. Bastard, you thought, walking inside the laboratory. The grate floor spread above the large pool beneath your feet throughout the whole room, making your steps audible as you entered. The water was calm, undisturbed—suspicious.

"Oh, also, this one's been really angry ever since we brought him in. Better not let your head get bitten off! Would be a waste. You're too pretty to be a corpse just yet."

You whipped around with a glare, but all you saw was the smug grin on your supervisor's face before he shut the door with a loud bang. A mechanical lock slid into place with a whirring sound before everything became quiet around you. It was strange that they'd leave you here alone after what you did, but then again, there was no way you'd be able to recreate the mistakes you made. Even though you'd never receive any respect or sympathy from anyone in this cursed place, you couldn't help but stare at the metal door, plastered with warnings and reminders to leave equipment in the laboratory before leaving, wishing it would open again and let you out of here.

But that wouldn't happen.

It was ironic that they'd leave you alone with the merman you helped escape before, but the only way out was that door, and it needed a passcode to leave. One you didn't have. You'd eat, sleep, and work as they intended; there was no escaping this, even if the hope never left you. They didn't think you'd make it out alive unless they let you. Much less would you be able to help anyone escape again. Slowly, you turned forward, raising your head to look at the workstation on the opposite side of the room. You couldn't help from glancing downwards every few steps; caution was the only thing that kept you alive in this place.

But even as you made your way over to the station, your shadow undoubtedly making your presence known to the water, everything remained calm. The sound of machines running, keeping the pool intact, and the water bubbling from the pump were all that matched the sounds of your steps and breaths. For a "really angry" merman, this was suspicious. He must have known you were here, yet neither came to watch nor to attack you? You sighed inwardly, thinking about how much of a hassle it would be to actually get him to your examination area if you couldn't fish him out of the pool.

Once you reached the counters with the equipment, you set down the papers you had been given, spreading them out to scan over them. Even if you didn't want to interact again with these pitiful yet obscenely fascinating creatures, you knew that without any results from experimenting on them, you'd be stuck here for all eternity. The expectations were high that you'd find what everyone was looking for, even though the experiments were nothing short of cruel and disgusting. Drugs, surgery while awake, mutilations—those were just a few things you had watched the researchers do to these creatures. And for what? 

Eternal life. 

A fantasy.

How did you know? You were the one finding out that even if their life expectancy was closer to that of turtles, even the merfolks would die one day from old age. There was no such thing as living forever with the help of a mermaid's flesh, tears, or blood, and researching them brought forth interesting facts but not the results that this facility had been constructed for.

And yet, here you were, doing as you were told, trying to find anything that would be deemed interesting enough. 

You heard a splash behind you, making you whip around, trying to make out a sign of life. Even though the floor was raised a few meters above the surface and the partition was closed so nothing could fall in or jump out of the water, it was still unsettling to hear but never see the creature you were locked up with. You knew better than to show fear openly to apex predators like the mermaids, but it had been so long since they let you near one that you could feel its presence—or the lack thereof—frightening you to the bone.

But you had to keep going, no matter what. Turning back to your papers, you spread them out with shaky hands, scanning over the information the first-contact team had collected. A large species, presumably orca-related, male, mature, and chipped. The last fact had been underlined twice, emphasizing the importance of it. This merman had already been in the facility, and they tracked it back to when you had been foolish enough to think you could save them. It had been years. Yet he and another one, as you heard through the grapevine, had come back against any better judgment, making you wonder about the intelligence you knew these creatures possessed.

However, no matter how much information you could absorb through the notes, you knew you were only stalling time. The next step would be getting this creature out of the pool and proceeding with your experiments, but the fear made you hesitate. This merman had been starving for a week in preparation for his exams, and although hunger wasn't a good state for anyone to be in, it was thought it might help to be the one feeding them when you needed their cooperation. Like you'd do with an animal. Unfortunately, they were too clever to fall for these ruses most of the time.

You still had to try. 

Picking up some gloves, you went to the extensive double-doored fridge, pulling out the trays with seal meat on them. However, someone placed dead fish-heads between the pieces in varying states of decay. You took a deep breath, unwilling to give spoiled meat to the creature, even though you'd have to rely on it if you wanted to get anywhere. Picking out a slab of seal meat on the furthest corner of the tray, you just hoped it was mostly uncontaminated as you carried it over to the buttons that would part the floor into an opening from which the merman could be caught. 

You hated pushing these buttons, everything reminding you of the biggest mistake of your life. Sure, you saved three mermen from this cruelty, but look what your efforts got you. 2 of them came back, and you were nothing more than a slave. Nothing turned out to be as heroic as in the books you read.

The metal grated against itself as it parted wide enough to allow feeding. Smaller species could have stuck an arm through the gap, but you knew from the past that it didn't work for any of the large specimens. At least that meant you were safe from an attack for now, though it was debatable how long. The meat sunk further and further down into the blue, but nothing happened. You leaned forward over the gap in anticipation, waiting for any kind of appearance in the wet. However, when the water finally stirred, causing slight waves to appear, it wasn't a shadow that moved through it, and neither did it give any mind to the food. 

You jumped back in surprise, your body hitting the wall next to the buttons, when fingers lurched out of the water, gripping the ends of the partition and pushing them apart. Water splashed everywhere as the merman tried to widen the gap. The metal resisted initially, but even such a strong material bound to an even stronger machine relented under constant pressure. 

As the cool water hit your face, you finally snapped out from the shock, slamming your hand down on the buttons that would close the floor and set the machines into motion to work against the abnormal strength of a merman. The two forces rung with each other for a few seconds before the machine finally did its thing and closed the gap, but it felt like minutes of struggling, of holding your breath in anticipation. 

The merman held onto the metal for as long as possible, and you listened to the gut-wrenching sound of something breaking before he finally let go, the splashing of water dying down. The floor never fully closed, leaving a small gap not even your hand would fit through. Still, you were unsure if the merman succeeded in the end by breaking the mechanical device or if it had been his fingers that broke from the pressure. You wished you didn't have to find out. 

Sinking to your bottom, you took deep breaths, calming yourself. Heart racing and head spinning from the lack of a constant airflow, you watched the water, terror, and anticipation mingling. If the floor broke, it would at least delay your second encounter with this creature for a while. But if not, you'd have given it one more reason to be angry. You watched as his dark shadow—no, body moved through the water, his movements agitated, restless. All you felt was misery, knowing you were causing this distress to him again.

You still had no clue which one of the three it was, although the body was too large to be the smallest of the three "Lyr". Due to the experiments, he had lost a significant amount of body weight and muscles, as well as his mental stability. They would have put him down had you not freed them, as he became a risk quickly. You thought you were doing them a favor by saving them, but you had no idea if Lyr ever made it out in the wild. Judging by the quick thinking and the strength of the orca roaming below you, it was more likely to be either "Nerrocan" or "Krill". Their names were burned into your mind like silent reminders of your biggest mistake and greatest accomplishment alike. 

But the secret was quickly revealed when the merman finally seemed to calm down, swimming out into the back of the room for a moment and giving you time to collect yourself, too. You were still sitting on your ass, none the wiser, when you noticed black and white hairs emerging from further down the pool, slowly, cautiously drifting back towards you. As if on the prowl.

Surely he was waiting for another chance to wreck the floor open and try to escape. There was no reason for this creature not to be out to harm you, and you were such an easy prey, caught in this room with him. Your death wouldn't be mourned, but you also couldn't help pitying this merman, not knowing that your death would probably be his, too. Soldiers wouldn't hesitate to shoot something that was stronger, more deadly, and had too much freedom if they had to, even if it was a valuable species to study. You wondered which merman it was, and feeling a little safer with the floor closed, you leaned forward, trying to make it out.

The most brilliant of red spied out of the water the moment you looked down at it. Unmistakably, like polished rubies, these eyes followed your every move. You watched your own muscles tense and the horror in your expression as you realized which of the three mermen it was before you saw your own gaze fill with sadness in his eyes.

Krill.

The reason you risked everything.

His brows furrowed, then lifted as if surprised, too, although his body stayed submerged, tense and ready to act. There was no way he'd remember you, was there? Despite your doubts, you raised a hand, giving him a silly little wave before addressing him directly. 

"Hello… again."

He said nothing, and you realized he must have forgotten you. It was better that way for now… even if it stung after all you did to help him. 

Holding onto the wall, you got back on your feet, not wanting to be such an easy target and so close to him. He could try something again, and you'd be at a disadvantage if you couldn't even walk. "I'm sure it's uncomfortable, but I need you out of the water for a while. You remember it, right?"

You held your palm above the button that would activate The Fisher, a machine that could detect and catch unwilling mermaids by itself. But you were still close to the opening, so any reassurance from the merman would have been nice to have.

"Go ahead, open that gate again. See where that gets you," Krill threatened, and you believed him. His brows furrowed, teeth gnashing as his anger returned, and you had to realize that he was no longer like the sweet merman you once cared for. Sure, he had been drugged and broken into submission back then, but he had still treated you somewhat kindly, gifting you rocks and following you around the enclosure like a lost puppy. If you didn't know it better, you two had been somewhat close back then, having come to an understanding despite your differences. That was not the case anymore, you could see it.

"You'll see, I'll get out of here, and you'll regret capturing me again."

That hurt. It hadn't been your choice. If it had been your choice, you'd have helped all those poor souls confined inside this facility, making sure that neither merfolk nor humans suffered the consequences of the greed of some rich people. But you had no choice in this matter. You never had. 

Pressing the button, you stepped aside so The Fisher could do its wonder. You didn't want to, but you had to. Didn't want to put him through the same torture again at your hands. But Krill had been foolish enough to get captured again, and you were foolish enough to still hold on to the hope that you could make a change in your life if you obeyed. This time, the machine parting the floor stuttered, and although The Fisher descended from the ceiling, it couldn't open. 

"You are a fool if you think you can capture me with that. Force me to play your little games again, Human!"

Even though you tried to ignore him, it was hard when Krill paced around the opening, taunting you. You had to watch the machines work and fail as the floor was stuck. The Fisher was unable to move as it detected the closed floor, and you wondered how you would proceed if the location became unsuitable to work with. 

With a loud crash, Krill threw himself against the floor, and you gasped as a wave of cold water splashed over you. As you sputtered, you heard the floor grating, the sound painful to both of you, evident by Krill trying to escape it by dropping below the water. But with the sudden opening appearing, the metal claws of The Fisher snapped forward, scanning and detecting where they had to go. 

Until you saw it with your own eyes, you could have never believed such a flimsy-looking machine could restrain the apex predator of the sea, effortlessly capturing him by his wrist, neck, and the space between his fin and tail. Sure, he could throw his weight around despite being restricted, but there was little he could do to hurt you unless he broke free. However, no mermaid ever broke free from The Fisher in your years of working here. It was that effective.

You watched as The Fischer pulled Krill out of the water, shiny droplets of wet falling off of him, elevating every muscle, every toned ab on his belly. He was glistening in the unnatural lightening of the laboratory like a precious gem, and your heart clenched with sadness, knowing there was nothing you could do for this beautiful creature. You had to cover your ears as he began shrieking and cursing, most of it in a language that you never bothered to learn as you'd be incapable of ever speaking it. Siren was more of a singing rather than talking in the first place, and though you liked to sing to yourself, you'd never learn it on a level that could match the skill that his language required.

As you watched him, the first thing you noticed was his size. He had grown, although the rough weight and measurements would be taken by the machine holding him in place. The time in the ocean seemed to have done wonders for him. His fins were intact, and the tag on his tail was blinking despite being such an old model. Since then, there must have been at least seven upgrades over the years, and you'd be responsible for changing it eventually.

Once he was dragged onto the research area, he finally seemed to calm down a little, although he glared at you, fury revealing in his eyes. The Fischer restricted his head movement, but his willpower remained. "You are truly the worst," he sneered. "First, you let us go, then you capture us again. What do you think we are? Your little playthings? Is it fun to mangle us? You enjoy this?"

Testing his strength against the shackles, Krill twisted and turned in the hold, but you tried not to give his words too much attention. He was different from how he was years ago, and you had to say goodbye to the semi-good relationship you two had before, the precious image you had held onto of him. Both of you were fighting for survival, as pitiful as it was, and you had a crapload of tests to run before they'd let you get away from him and pity his fate and yourself. 

With new-found confidence as you watched him rendered immobilized, you returned to the fridge, luckily not encountering any more poor attempts at making life hard for you as you opened the drawers full of tranquilizers. There was yet one to be found that could entirely knock out these creatures, but they had a significant calming effect. And—as you hoped—pain-relieving. Because there were a lot of things you had to do to him that wouldn't be easy for both of you. 

Gathering the tranquilizer shots, various test tubes, tools, and your to-do list on a tray, you carried it over to a table closer to him, taking deep breaths to brace yourself. You were tense, your fingers growing numb from anxiety. You had been assigned to the labs for most of the years, rarely encountering a merman again after what you did. And although you trained for this, the thoughts of hurting him were twisting your stomach. 

"You might think it's fun for us humans, but I wonder what you were thinking coming back here. Maybe you enjoyed the treatment more than you let on, hm?"

Your voice was feeble, even when you tried to act superior. Bantering wouldn't magically develop a relationship between you two, but you couldn't endure the silence when no one spoke. It felt wrong—like he was going to attack you again any second. You needed to keep yourself anchored to reality, or you might have fainted. After everything you went through, you couldn't remember the confidence you had to allow yourself to do something as drastic as release three orcas from a highly secured facility like this. A shame, really. You deserved confidence as you were one of the best, after all. 

Even if you couldn't let him know, you still felt anxious about something happening. You returned to the original counters, providing you with everything you needed, put on new gloves after wiping your still-wet face from being splashed with a towel, and proceeded with a mask and apron to achieve even the smallest amount of cleanliness. You'd be unable not to hurt him at the end of this session, but you at least wanted to avoid him dying from sepsis as well as getting his blood all over yourself. 

"I do not," he snapped, watching as you prepared everything, seemingly having given up fighting the machine but not you. "I came back for Nerrocan."

"Huh…" you mumbled, intrigued by this information. So it was Nerrocan who came back here, not Lyr. Interesting. "Risking it all for your cousin?" you asked, and his eyes narrowed.

"I see you still remember us," he snarled, his lips parting in a cocky grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. Krill looked… uncomfortable almost. You couldn't blame him. This all must have been beyond uncomfortable for the merman. 

"And you, me."

Silence befell you two again as you picked up the tranquilizer, wrapping your hand around the container, surprised when you realized what you were doing. It had been so long that you thought you wouldn't remember your old habits. You used to always warm the drugs so they wouldn't be so bitterly cold when applied on the mermaids. 

Krill flapped his fin despite being restricted, and you looked up at him, catching a glimpse of worry as he looked at the syringe in your hand. "Ran out of the good stuff, eh? I remember it being purple, not that icky color," he mocked, but he didn't sound as confident anymore as he was before. 

"Should have come earlier if you wanted that. I heard this one has interesting side-effects when applied."

Rounding the table, you noticed his fin flap again pitifully, almost making you hesitate. He seemed nervous, muscles spasming in the tension of his restrictions. Stepping up to his hips, you felt his eyes follow your every step, almost making you feel reminiscent of the past. You took the integrated step upwards at the side of the research station, effectively standing above him now to see better. Everything was perfectly laid out so that your work could be done effectively. That's how you had to see it, too. This was work, nothing personal.

"You don't have to do this," Krill suddenly said, unusually calm but determined. "You're not a bad person, you saved us before."

This time, you did look directly at him, giving him your full attention for a few seconds of silence. His gaze didn't waver, didn't move away. He meant what he said. At least, that's what you were supposed to believe. Sirens were prone to lying to get what they wanted, and Krill did not want the drug in your hands, warmed up by your palm wrapped around it. But it wouldn't stop you. You gulped, inhaling deeply. It couldn't stop you.

"And now I have to save myself. Please hold still so I don't hurt you."

Diverting your attention back to his hips, you drove your hands along the slick surface of his body, trying to find any space capable of being squeezed. He jerked once when you touched him, trying to get away but ultimately pressing his hips up into your palm. Eventually, you found a soft spot, pinching the skin between your fingers. Krill shuddered, his body twisting, but The Fischer kept it in place. You'd be safe, even if you hated yourself for doing what you had to. 

The syringe punctured his flesh with only a bit of resistance, and you injected the liquid tranquilizer quickly, stepping away when you were done to watch what would happen. The medication used to be a fickle thing, sometimes agitating, sometimes drugging the mermaids out of their minds. But it usually took a while before it worked. Not this version, though. So many things changed since the last time you worked with the mermaids. But it was cruel all the same.

You listened to Krill groan in pain and relief at the same time. Pressure built, his body twisting and arching, with his spine bending uncomfortably for you as the drug spread throughout him before every muscle seemed to suddenly give out, relaxing him completely and making his body sack in his holds almost lifelessly. Worried, you stepped closer, searching for a pulse. It wasn't for another half a minute before you noticed the even rise and fall of his chest, his gills flaring even though he wasn't using them. The seemingly calm state of the merman made you bolder, although the fear of him faking something never subsided. You walked up to his face, staring into the clouded rubies of his eyes, surprised to find them moving around still, searching for something or someone, despite being slower, less alert than before. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unsure if he could even hear you, but you felt terrible seeing what you did to him. Even if he was a creature that wouldn't hesitate to kill you, he didn't deserve to go through what the facility wanted him to. Reaching up, you brushed the hair out of his face, the strands gently gliding through your fingers without any resistance, almost as if they were a liquid defying all the physics you knew. 

Even after all this time, you remembered he used to have longer hair. It used to float above the water, coating it in strings of glossy silk. But now he sported a wolf cut that fitted him just as well. Part of his hair had turned white, with only the top remaining in the same black you were used to. You wondered if it was because of the experiments or just a natural change of color over the years when his head suddenly turned, his cheek feeling heavy as he rested it in your palm. Krill seemed as unaware of his actions as he should be after being forced into surrender by the drug, but it seemed to make the forgotten part of him that felt safe with you submerge again, the feeling almost the same as from the past. You quickly caught yourself falling back into thoughts of things long gone and got to work, cutting off both black and white strands with small scissors, hoping it wouldn't suddenly agitate him. But Krill remained unresponsive, and you pushed away your guilt to quickly store your samples.

Focusing your mind on your work, as there was so much to do, and you didn't want him to recover his strength before you had completed most of the preparations you had to make. You measured and cut down his claws, trying your best not to cause any harm to him and quickly storing the talons for further research. The size of his hands was massive, and you marveled at their humanness for a moment, driving your finger gently over the ridges and joints. Unfortunately, as expected, some of his fingertips were broken, smashed by the struggle with the floor grates. You wanted to clean and wrap them securely. But when Krill let out a long sigh, sounding almost pained just by your touching his hands, you immediately stopped, fearing his wrath upon regaining mobility.

You did further measurements on smaller areas like his hands and fins, everything that could be deducted more thoroughly by hand than by machine. Every time you came around to his head, you looked into his eyes, the guilt threatening to wash over you when they locked with yours, steadfast despite him being out of it, so you quickly moved on. 

While you were at it, you connected his chip to a reader, interested in the data that could be found on it, and removed the jewelry that hung from his body. It would only be a hindrance to your experiments, and perhaps remnants on the metal could determine where the merman was originally from. However, the weight of some of the decorations he had prided himself with—like his necklace of teeth—weighed so much that you needed to drag them over the floor, wondering how this could be efficient for a predator.

"So far, so good," you mumbled as you let the program run its course, wiping off some sweat from your forehead with your sleeve and looking at the situation for a moment. It had been too long, you couldn't really remember the exact procedure to which you should have stuck, but instead of giving your to-do list the attention to find out, your eyes fixated on something else—scars. Albeit not uncommon, there were a lot more now than you remembered, and you raised a hand to his tail, sliding your fingers over the scarred tissue, putting slight pressure on it.

Krill's body jerked immediately, and you jumped back from him, observing the merman. His head rolled forward in the restraints, tired eyes searching for you but unable to focus. 

"Not there… touch..." His speech was slurred, another effect of the new drug, but you couldn't help but smile faintly at him, seeing how he still resisted. 

"I need to count them," you explained, hoping it would soothe his mind. If he could understand it. You couldn't be sure it had any effect, but if you were in his position, you would have wanted to be told what was going on, you thought. "It won't hurt, I promise."

Measuring tape in hand, you placed your clipboard with an empty page on top of his body, moving from his fin slowly upwards and jotting down your findings. There were a lot of prominent scars standing out from his body markings, but even more smaller ones barely visible. It felt quite intimate to search his body so thoroughly, but it had to be done. Krill moved pitifully against and into your touch as if unsure where to go and unable to understand what was happening. Even if it made you lose your balance a few times, you let him, feeling bad for all you were doing. It was the slightest bit of freedom you could give him without risking your own head.

By the time you reached his chest, some clarity had returned to his eyes, and he couldn't control the sounds coming from him. You tried not to agitate him with pressure and touch, but you had to do your work. An arrangement of chirps and sighs, some grunts, and nervous jittering rang out, echoing through the rooms. Deep breaths pushed his chest out, and sighs bordering on moans shivered through his whole body. But you were content as long as he didn't throw his weight around and push you off the step and into your medical equipment. 

"Must you be so thorough," he slurred as you examined his chest, following the curve of his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You looked up at him, his head crooked to the side, still too heavy to hold up on his own despite the metal neck brace, but his eyes were clearer now, following you more intensely. 

"I have to, I'm sorry. I don't want it to be uncomfortable, but I have to document them."

Writing down your finds on your clipboard, you must have pressed it down a bit too hard on his chest because Krill's head fell back, a long groan escaping him, back arching again. "Sorry…" you repeated, the guilt beginning to eat you up, but he only rolled his head in the restraint. 

"No…" he muttered. "Not uncomfortable... I feel weird. It's hot. Make it stop."

You were unsure what to do, but there were only a few more scars before you'd have to move on to his arms and, eventually, his backside. You wanted to at least get the chest ones down before you would have to give him another shot of tranquilizer, as Krill was growing more restless every time you touched him. You wished the examination could have stopped there. That you could have released him and put him back into the cold wet, but you needed to finish this. Even when he started gnashing his teeth and twisting in his restraints again.

"What are you doing?!" he suddenly snapped, much more coherent than before, his head jerking forward, ruby-red eyes glowering at you. You tried not to let it get to you, tried to make it quick so he wouldn't have to suffer, but Krill wouldn't let it go. 

"Stop it!" he demanded as you inspected another small scar around his nipple. It was barely visible against the lighter-toned skin there, but you found it, grazing over the nub a few times while working out the details of the scar you needed. Krill was getting more aggressive with his protests, lashing out at you while many different kinds of sounds escaped him, and it was almost amusing to think that it was because of your touch. You couldn't help spreading your palm over his nipple once, letting the elastic of your gloves weigh down and rub over it, causing every muscle in his body to harden instantly. You shouldn't have abused this situation like this, but seeing him react so sharply, his breath coming out in a drawn-out hiss, was somewhat a relief. Knowing it wasn't all terrible, all cruel and painful. But you caught a grip on yourself quickly, working efficiently until you could finally step away once you had found every last scar on his chest.

"All done," you assured him, unable to keep yourself from grinning a little as he let out a strained but haughty hmpf. He was almost back to his new normal, which made you glad. The drug was awful, but it was good to know he wouldn't be broken down this easily. Your back was turned for only a second when you heard him rattling in his restraints, more clear in his mind again as it seemed. It caused you to want to tease him a little.

"I liked it better when you were quiet, Krill. You didn't react to every one of my touches as if I was trying to seduce you."

"How dare you! I can't believe I am back here with you as if you are…" The word seemed to elude him as he bit his tongue, and you turned to look at his face, so much tension in his expression that you thought he was going to burst. Krill wasn't looking at you for once, focusing on his own body. Walking up to him again, his gaze shifted from straight down back to you, a spark of something you couldn't pinpoint washing over him. Insecurity? Fear? No way. 

"Don't come closer again!" he hissed, tossing a bit more in his restraints, and you stopped in your tracks, subconsciously listening to him like an idiot. But Krill wasn't being malicious; something was wrong. Even though you two weren't on friendly terms, you could tell something was off. His gills were flared, pupils blown wide open. He looked mostly like the monster you had to believe he was, but there was a sense of panic that an apex predator shouldn't ever display unless something terrible was happening to them. And you couldn't ignore it, or him for that matter.

"Hey!" you called out, hoping your voice could ground him from whatever he was going through. Stepping closer despite his body thrashing wasn't easy. You had to be careful, but you weren't heartless enough to leave him to his own demons after you caused them. The drug could have had hallucinogenics, which would not only have put you in danger but Krill too. You needed him if you ever wanted to regain some recognition or freedom in this place, and he needed you since you were probably the only person in the whole facility who would do anything to make the experiments at least a bit more humane. You couldn't abandon him like this after all he's been through.

Instead of putting yourself at risk of being thrown across the room by Krill accidentally slamming his body into you, you stepped up to his head instead, waiting for the moment that you could grab onto him and hold on with all your strength. You expected a struggle that would leave both of you wounded, but the moment your hands clasped around his face, Krill went rigid, suspiciously still. Another wave of fear overcame you, your instincts telling you this was wrong, but you tried your best to stay strong for both of you. "Shh, shh," you mumbled, calming him, and finally, the strength in his neck gave way, and his head fell back. 

You two stared at each other for some silent seconds, and you rubbed your thumb over his cheek comfortingly. "It's all your fault," he uttered, exhaustion washing over his expression. You couldn't blame him for feeling this way, and you made sure his hair wouldn't sting his eyes by swiping it out of his face gently, still shushing him like a parent would to their child. He looked like he was in severe pain, as if he felt fear for the first time in his life. You couldn't believe it was true, but you felt heartbroken for him all the same. Even if he was called a monster, even if he was a killer and a creature or an animal. Even if he wasn't like you, he didn't deserve any of this. 

"Why are you doing this to me again?" he asked, his voice cracking as a wave of sadness washed over his expression. You had never seen a mermaid actively being sad. Angry, panicked, drugged, yes. But sad? You didn't even think that was possible. What could you do to soothe this whale of a man to the point that you weren't suffering the consequences of other people's decisions? Nothing came to mind, and it was awful.

"I haven't done anything yet, just precautions," you assured him. "You're okay, you're safe. I can't change what I have to do, but I promise I'll try to make it as painless as possible. I–"

"No," Krill interrupted you. "Not that. Not the experiments. This." 

You heard the restraints rattle, causing you to look up at his hand, his cut-down, broken claw pointing downward at his body. You halted your comforting, leaving your palms on his cheeks while looking at Krill with a confused look before you stepped away, fully aware that he looked after you, even forcing his head forward again to watch what you were doing as you stepped around him. 

A loud gasp escaped you as you watched the tip of his cock exit from its slit. The moment your attention was on it, it shot out inch by inch until its massive size stood proudly, pulsing and jerking above his hips, having emerged fully within seconds of horror and amazement. A glistening drop of pre-cum collected at the tip as you stared at the massive erection, the bubble popping and spilling onto his chest as you watched it, unable to look away.

"I tried to forget," Krill lamented from behind you, his body sacking in the machine holding him up before tensing and straining again, a pained groan escaping him while his cock flopping in the air, unbothered by its owner's distress. It only produced more pre-cum and jerked ever so often, the shaft pulsing with need. 

"I wanted to forget you so badly."

You forced yourself to look away from his cock, and Krill let out a brief trill in response, sounding almost disappointed. But he didn't shy away from your eyes, gazing at you, defeated and a little… desperate. 

"Help. Me," he breathed, and you let out your own shuddering breath at his request. You only ever wanted to tease him. You didn't want to cause any pain or suffering, especially not the sexual kind. It was unheard of that the drug caused the mermaids to act this way. But you were about to learn what caused this.

"Why me?" you whispered, knowing now he could hear you. 

"Because I remember every touch of you. Every moment we spent together. Every little piece of memory we made in this godsforsaken place, and I need you. I already feel like I'm losing my mind, and I can't take it anymore. At least take responsibility for what you're doing, this is your fault."

"Krill…"

"It's useful for you, isn't it?" he suddenly changed his tune. He looked angry, but the twisted desperation was unconcealable. "My seed. You can have it. Take it all if you must as long as you do something." 

His words were followed by a groan, sounding in so much pain, and you watched his cock jerk, hips lifting, trying to reach an unavailable source of comfort, a connection to something that wasn't there. "Fuck, I held it back for so long. You and your shitty drugs! I had it under control! I didn't need you at all—didn't even think of you!"

Another long howl escaped him, head rolling from one side to another. He looked completely out of his mind when his gaze fixed on you again, needy and desperate. You had no way to find out if it was because of the drugs, and that worried you. 

"I lied," he confessed, his breath leaving him ominously. His admission was completely out of character for a creature like him, which took you aback, but when Krill looked back at you, there was a different kind of determination in his eyes. A savage one—mad even. You wanted to run away, far, far away from him, but his eyes, full of drugged madness and terrifying adoration, didn't let you act on your whims. As if he hypnotized you.

"I thought about you constantly. You were always on my mind. I thought about coming back so many times, but I couldn't leave the others. But now they don't need me anymore, and I have you back. You're the only one left for me, please. Please help me. Help me, my mate."

His voice was sugary sweet as he pleaded with you, your heart skipping a beat when you watched this destructive, dangerous creature reduced to a begging mess. It wasn't what you wanted for him, and you didn't want the kind of control he was hovering over your head. But you felt the heat spreading throughout your whole body as he called you his.

"We're not mates," you tried to deny it, shaking your head, the implications too severe. "That's the drugs speaking."

"Gods," he groaned loudly, licking his lips as his eyes scanned over your body. "I wish they were."

His hips jerked again, impatient and in desperate need of release. If you were truly mates, that would be bad. It would be an instant invitation to be locked in this facility forever until you passed away. If anyone happened to check on you, seeing the state Krill was in, they'd assume the worst, delighted by these new possibilities. You had to find a solution before that. 

"Fuck," you muttered, and Krill groaned in agreement. "We're not mates!" you insisted, moving towards his side again. This was absolutely bonkers, but every touch seemed to send him further down the spiral—and so were you, even though you refused to admit it.

"This is strictly professional."

"It's whatever," he rejoiced when he felt your hands back on his chest, a little too happy about this smithereens of body contact for it to be just because of the drugs. "Help me, mate."

"Do me a favor," you asked, rolling your shoulders and readying yourself for what you had to do. You couldn't believe you were going to do it; jerking off a merman was definitely not in your job description. But if it would help with not being confined for all eternity as a pathetic mating buddy, then you had no choice. You just needed the push to actually do it.

"Say 'please' again."

Krill's lips parted in a disturbingly wide grin, red rubies sparkling as he looked at you, filled with a sickening hope and adoration that made you shudder.

"Please."

[shaisuki]

Could I request Kaiser with reader. The two of them are partners for a project when he offers her a brownie he made, (one that he drugged), she was hesitant but took it, once she felt a little intoxicated, he took advantage of her, despite her trying to push him off, her state made her weaker and unable to push him off as he did what he wanted with her. At the end, he blackmailed her with the recording he took of him taking advantage of her

contested cravings

PAIRING. MICHAEL KAISER X CHUBBY READER

CONTENT WARNINGS. noncon + drugging, nonconsensual recording + groping and touching + kissing + blackmail + sabotage + penetrative sex + manipulation + cunnilingus.

SYNOPSIS. michael's is the bad news with his good looks and talent and the reason why you avoided him.

class projects aren't bad not until you're paired with michael kaiser. the school's star athlete and the resident asshole if you must add. have a bad habit of belittling others that pisses most of the whole student body and only hangs out with alexis ness. whom may have developed an unhealthy obsession with the school's golden boy. following him like a lost pup and would skedaddle if kaiser shooed him off.

you found the dynamic between them unsettling and how could ness accepted being treated like that. you guess is just how they express their feeling or to make the other feel good about themselves and you kind of really don't care, not when michael is your partner. his blonde hair is streaked with baby blue highlights on the tips and that haircut that suits him.

you instantly averted your gaze when you see him walking towards you and pretends that you didn't notice him. feigning interest in a book that you have read over and over.

“at my place?” he asks, smoothing his blonde locks. “s-sure.” you answered him. a little worriedly than you have liked and it looks like you were hesitant and regretting your action towards him.

michael paid it no mind. people acted around him like he was a real total assholes and he is and you were no different from the reactions people have shown him. he just gave you a smile and left you to your own devices.

of course, he have a room for himself. he's the school's star athlete and it comes with privilege including personal spaces. you texted him earlier and there he is. opening his door for you to come in. you gave him a curt greeting. “can we start now?” you asked him. the sooner this project is done the better. you really don't want to be alone with michael. “does my presence annoys you that much?” he smirks, eyeing you in such lazy manner that your eyes widen at what he was saying. kaiser chuckles at your reaction. “just kidding. don't want to waste more than time. make yourself comfortable then.” pointing at his work table. the books and papers and pens are neatly arranged. you didn't took him to be the studious type regarding how he acts in the general but you have judged him too early and mentally slapped yourself for thinking that way and you were still suspicious that he is too polite to you.

“what?” pursing your lips in thin line. you shaked your head. “nothing, michael.” he ignores you and sat beside you. already grabbing the needed materials and you both began in silence.

working with michael isn't so bad. he wasn't his usual asshole self who picks fight at school and insults someone for how they look and their skill. michael's behavior placed you in a dangerous situation with him and interactions with him meant to break what little self-confidence you have. opposite he was. he was so good at following up instructions and have studied in advance. it looks like it was better that you should both have split the workload.

“oh i forgot, i would be a bad host if i didn't you offer you some food. i've gotten brownies in that newly opened bakery.” he said, taking off his round glasses he was wearing while you both worked. michael screams like he comes from old money from how he acts and it was totally out of character for him to offer you some refreshments.

he placed a tray of food in the table. consisting of various sweet treats and some drinks. “pick what you want, sweets.” the nickname made you cringed cause michael is really acting nice to you. something's very off at this whole situation. looking at the assortment of sweets in the tray. you hesitated but the look michael is giving you told you otherwise. so you grabbed one and took a bite. “good choice.” he praises you before grabbing a treat for himself.

the brownie's good. the chocolatey goodness melting in your mouth, bursting with flavor. you hum in delight to show your appreciation for the good food and michael nods. smiling a bit and slowly chews. you just only ate one. afraid that he'll comment something and you would rather die than have him say something. it took awhile before you both decided to pick up what's left of the work.

strangely, you have never been feeling so lightheaded before followed by a strange pounding on your head. you grasp the pencil you were holding and it only rolls away from you. you try grabbing it again and it feels like you were holding air. “is something wrong, (y/n)?” you follow the sound of the direction of the voice. why was kaiser is blurry to your vision. did h-he? you were unable to finish your muddled thoughts and even in such state you feel his lips to yours.

your lips is what he imagined to be. soft and plump with the right touch of sweetness. thanks to the brownies. heh. it wasn't really he brought. he put an effort to it just to have what's in front of him. the drug that ness brought him did work just like how he wanted it. you were still conscious and a bit aware of everything but is unable to do anything but he is quite surprised that you were still able to move a bit even it was just an attempt to push him off.

“i can't have you pushing me. i really worked for this.” is what you heard before you are being pushed slowly in his bed.

when you laid there in his bed. michael admires you like he was a painter of his greatest masterpiece. looking like some baroque period painting coming to life while your body's is temporarily incapacitated. his efforts have bore results and he's about to sow.

he begins to strip you. quite annoyed from the layers of clothing you wore. he knows it was fully intentional. not wanting to be called a slut nor a prude by him. he knows his harsh and he likes people when they cry and you were no exception of it. he could have bullied you. break you and pull you apart until you were left nothing but michael withstood all the desires of it cause he wanted you like this. helpless and needing of him.

his palms slowly glides through the expanse of skin. you were the definition of what he deemed perfection in his eyes. your perfectly fit in his and he was about to mold you from his very own hands. he can see the tears pricking in your eyes. glistening as you helplessly watch him defile you.

kaiser never liked giving and receiving. he only takes but what's between your legs leaves him hungry for it. the plushness of your fat pussy drooling with slick is enough to drive him crazy so he did what he did. giving your fat pussy a lick and he was hooked immediately. he continued to devour your pussy until he was satisfied besides his cock is really needing some relief and it was painful. he just found the right place to stick it on.

it was only the tiniest of moans and gasps coming from you but he sure enjoyed it. a symphony being composed and is a music to his hears he won't get tired of listening to. he grabbed and bite whatever his hands and mouth can get to. you were so fucking supple and divine. fitting for an emperor like him. the way your body jiggles and ripples with his very thrusts leaving him grunting and growling for more. your fat pussy is deliciously wrapped around his fat cock that it leaves a drooling mess to your cunt. he already has cummed many times and it squelches with every thrust along with your pussy. his cum being deposited inside of you.

michael glances at the clock. the night is still young and he was going savor all of it until the morning comes. he continues to assault your abused cunt. smiling to himself at the direction of where his phone is currently placed. he needs to commemorate this special occasion.

you were sore. your body screaming in pain while you grab the pieces of your clothing besides you. the tears uncontrollably running down your cheeks while you scramble to get your things and leave this hell hole that was michael's room. “why are you crying?” he asks, sipping a cup of coffee. dressed in his robe and his reading glasses resting in the tip of his nose. “fuck you, michael.” you seethed at the blonde. michael chuckles. “strong words coming from you.” he added.

you were about to grab the last belonging of yours before he interrupts you. “i believe you have a favor to ask me.” your eyes widens. he shows you a video of him repeatedly fucking you. putting you in different positions. “don't you dare, michael.” you warned him. “you fucking raped me, you son of a bitch.” michael didn't really like the tone of your voice and it just triggered something to him. he stands up and made his way to you. grasping your soft jaw in a tight manner. he forces a smile. “oh, i really am.” he taunts you. his blue eyes is filled with storm inside them. “defy me and you're getting this video leaked.”

“what the fuck you want?”

“watch your tone.” he warns before smiling.

“be mine and i'll let this thing disappear like it didn't happen.”

“fuck no.”

“oh really, such a shame. you were enjoying it. see?” he really made it look like you were having the best night of your life. he wipes the tears on your round cheeks.

“good.” he whispers. seeing the look in your face and it left him triumphant.

“don't leave. we really ain't done. i am still starting to enjoy it.”

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART II

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || <- part i || part iii -> coming soon || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, eventual forced feeding, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is the second part of my lil series for @lorelune spring fever collab!!

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The mission that Suguru sends you on is to fetch a book. 

At first, you are endlessly irritated with him. A book should be far beneath you; he should’ve had one of his lackeys get it for him. 

However, upon finally getting your hands on it–after a nasty fight with both curses and other sorcerers–you realize that perhaps the book is rather important.

Firstly, you can’t open it on your own. It’s imbued with cursed energy and locked tight. And secondly, the energy it gives off is strange. 

It fills you with a restless, relentless sort of buzz. You feel like a caged beast with it in your presence. You feel like–

You feel a little off-kilter. A little hungry for a fight. 

On the third day, you come home. 

You let yourself into Suguru’s quarters. 

He’s in his study, at his desk, when you barge in and throw the book down onto the desk. 

Suguru picks up his gaze. 

“You’re back early,” he muses, drinking you in with greedy eyes, “clearly it was no trouble?” 

“Hardly.” You snap, “hoping I’d be away for longer?”

A quirk at the corner of his lips, “not at all. In fact, I was impatient for your return.” 

Heat whips the back of your neck.

“Come here,” he hums, “let me see you.” 

He offers his hand up. He wants you to step around the desk to stand in front of him, you think. 

Tentatively, you go to him, round the desk and step up to him. He turns and settles deeper into the desk chair, spreads his legs so that you may even step up between them. 

You slide your hand into his slowly. 

He pulls you a step closer. And closer still. 

“No injuries?” He asks, eyes skimming over your body. 

You swallow and shake your head. 

“Good,” he sighs and then he pulls a little harder on your hand. And his other hand suddenly hitches around the back of your knee. All it takes is a little effort on his part, and you’re stumbling into his lap. 

You throw your hands out to find balance in his broad shoulders, clinging to him, holding yourself out from him. 

“Suguru,” you growl in annoyance, fussing, fighting against him a little. 

You can feel his smile the moment he dips his face towards the crook of your neck, “did it help to have my scent on you?” 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, as if to be spiteful, despite what you say, “it always does.” 

He hums, pleased, and drags his nose along your throat again.

He pulls away to look at you, bristled and embarrassed. 

“Go bathe,” he tells you, “and wear my clothes. I want you to stay here tonight.” 

You jerk back a little, surprised, “and if I refuse?” 

“I wasn’t asking.” He says flippantly. 

You scoff, moving to stand, “I’m going back to my room.” 

His hand squeezes your waist tightly and prevents you from leaving him, from separating yourself from him, “I see the time away hasn’t made you any softer.” 

“Let me go,” you push at his chest, “let me up.” 

Instead, he catches one of your wrists, holding it to his chest with his large hand. He nearly drowns your hand, overwhelms it entirely. 

“Do as I ask, and I’ll let you go.” 

You make a noise of irritation, “I won’t share a bed with you.” 

“I’ll be good,” he purrs, but even as he says that, you feel his hips flex beneath yours a little, opening, widening his stance. 

“I’m not stupid,” you hiss, trying to lift off him a little, but he’s got too tight of a grip on your waist. 

“I’ll rub your tense shoulders,” he torments you, and then, his smile grows like that of a fox, “I know you like to sleep in my bed.” 

Your heart rabbits in your chest. 

“I’ve never slept in your bed,” you snip. 

He laughs, low and soft and outright. “There’s no reason to lie now,” he says, languidly leaning back in his seat a little. “You slept in my bed while I was away.” 

Your cheeks prickle with warmth, embarrassment. 

“I didn’t–”

“I know you’re embarrassed, but don’t lie to me.” He says it seriously, eyes suddenly going colder. 

And just like that, you open your mouth—

“I did once.” 

Suguru seems pleased, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand that he still has trapped against his chest. “Now you will again.” 

You huff. And you understand there is little to win in this case; you could fight harder, snarl and snap and try to leave on your own. 

(But there is that horrendously small and foolish part of you that does want to stay. It wants what he has offered you.) 

“On one condition.”

“Name it.” 

He seems serious in knowing your request—earnest, almost.

Your voice sticks in your throat. You try to form your words carefully, “you won’t do anything—sexual. At all. Not while I’m asleep and—there’s no tricks.” 

“What kind of Alpha do you take me for?” Suguru asks innocently and level him with a glare. 

“Suguru—“ 

“No tricks.” He agrees quickly. 

“Nothing.” You tell him sternly. 

“Not even if you beg for it?” 

“I wouldn’t!” You snap, nails flexing back into the meat of his shoulder. The one at his chest bunches in his clothes beneath his own hand. 

He laughs a little again, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand to soothe you. “Easy, sweet girl, okay. You have my promise; I won’t do anything sexual. No tricks.” 

But the way he says it makes warning bells go off in your mind, distant and wailing. Still, you have his word. 

He suddenly takes your chin in hand and guides you to look into his eyes, deeply amethyst, darkly lilac.

 “I do mean it.” He says sternly now, and then, “the first time I have you, it will be because you came to me, and begged, with a clear head and open heart.” 

You try and jerk your chin from his grasp but he holds tighter, forcing you to stay, “do you understand?” 

“I would never—“

“Ah, ah, do you understand?” 

“Yes!” You snap and when you jerk away this time, he lets you go. All of you. 

You leap from him on unsteady feet, rocking back a little, steadying yourself on the desk. 

“Go,” he encourages, “take a bath. And choose any of my clothes you like.” 

You swallow hard and glare at him. 

“I don’t need your orders.” You grind out.

“Yes, so fearsome you are,” Suguru waves you off and you almost have half a mind to surge back towards him and make him regret saying that. You’re feeling prickly, though, and something inside of you has knocked loose.

You’ve been blaming it on the book.

You’re flushed from the inside out, heated, and frustrated. 

You stomp off towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. 

*

*

*

The bath actually does soothe some of your mood. The bathtub is large and clean; the soaps you used smell faintly of Suguru. The water had been perfect and you’d managed to relax and sink down to your shoulders. 

And dressing in his clothes after does more for you than you’re willing to admit. You’re just in an old, soft t-shirt of his. It’s large on your frame and it smells like him, which soothes you in a way that is almost frightening. 

When you enter the bedroom, Suguru is not there yet and you assume he is still in his office. You almost hope that he is, that you’ll have time to get comfortable, without his watchful eyes. 

You arrange the pillows how you like and when you’re satisfied with your side, you slip beneath the covers and into the cool sheets. You turn and twist a moment, burrowing deeper beneath the blankets, before letting out a little noise of contentment. It slips from you before you can stop it. 

And just when you’re beginning to drift off, faintly wondering if Suguru will ever join you, does he finally step into his bedroom. He takes you in and his scent almost changes with it—sweeter, a little darker. You can tell he’s pleased with you. 

When he joins you in bed, you go perfectly still. He’s bare chested and you almost want to complain about it—instead, you squirm away from him. 

It doesn’t get you far and once he’s beside you, he’s reaching out to lay his hand across the expanse of your waist. 

You are about to warn him, bite something out about staying on his side, or to watch himself. But he doesn’t pull you or drag you towards him. He doesn’t roll towards you. 

His hand stays, on your waist, drifts to be on your lower back. 

The first pass of his hand over your back makes you tense all over, muscles poised to snap or leap away from him. The second, you can feel your breathing tighten up. The third, you realize that this may be it. 

You wait, near trembling, as he continues to soothe his hand over your back. Up and down. A slow petting, over the shirt of his you’d worn to bed. 

And eventually, you begin to melt; all those tense muscles slowly unwinding. 

Then you’re sighing, soft, into the pillow. 

Your eyes grow heavy, breath beginning to loosen and even out, slow and deep. 

Sleep claims you gently, eases you into its tender embrace, like cooing a baby to sleep, like soothing a stray. 

***

In the morning, you wake alone. The bed beside you is empty.

You are almost disheartened to see it. The initial disappointment rears its head, sinks into your stomach, before you try to shoo it away. 

But when you listen closely, you can hear him in the kitchen moving about. His footsteps are quiet but there. 

Instinctively, the part of you attuned to him, knows he is near. 

It soothes you. 

You twist a little, throwing some blankets from your body—warmer than usual, a little flushed.

You blame it on the sun streaming through the wide window, the warmth as it seeps into the sheets. You doze again like this, in its beams, covers astray around your legs, curled around one of the several pillows. 

In and out of sleep. Hazy, burning flickers of dreams. 

When you fully wake again, an hour later, you are even warmer than before.

You feel a little strange. Chilled atop your skin, a little shivery, but so warm from within. 

You blame it on nerves; perhaps you don’t want to face Suguru after staying in his bed. Perhaps being away from your own bed has made you anxious, too. As much as you try to hide any of your baser urges, your space is important to you. Your bed is important. 

You know you can’t hide from him forever. 

More than that, you want water, perhaps. Ice water. You feel parched suddenly. You feel dehydrated. 

When you enter the kitchen, you are surprised to find water already out. A bowl of cut up fruit beside it. Suguru is reading in the attached living room.

You look at him. And then at the fruit.

“It’s for you,” he says, without looking up from his book. 

You blink at him.

“Why?”

His brows arch upward and he finally pulls his dark eyes away from the page in order to look at you. 

“Because you should eat.” 

Something inside you, under immense pressure, finally bursts.

“Don’t start doing this shit.” You snap.

Your tone perhaps takes him by surprise. It’s full of vitriol, it’s full of heat and hatred. “Don’t start doing domestic shit for me.” 

“And here I was, thinking I’d do something kind after all this tormenting.” He says but it’s really rather amused. Knowing.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” You snarl at him. 

He looks you over carefully and something in his face changes—just a small, almost unnoticeable flicker. He asks;

“How do you feel?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“What did you do?” You accuse suddenly. 

“What did I do? Nothing. I cut up a bowl of fruit for you.” 

You can feel your threads unwinding, fraying at the edges, and can feel the way it unravels inside you.

Your head is beginning to throb. 

Your stomach gives a strange churn. 

“That’s not—that’s not true. I feel strange and you did something.” You say and your voice is getting tighter, almost distressed. 

“Strange how?” He asks coolly. 

“I feel—I feel like I’m sick. Maybe.”

He hums softly. 

And then, “it’s your Heat.”

A dull, soft roaring in your ears. You swallow and the sound clicks around in your throat, your head.

“No—“ you start, “there’s no way.”

“I can smell it,” he says, “you’ve been on the cusp of it for some time now.”

You frown and feel for your head with your open palm, warm to the touch. Feverish. You want to squirm out of your own skin.

“I haven’t had one in years—there’s no way.” You say again but your voice sounds thinner, less believable.

Your eyes flash upwards, “you did this.” 

Suguru looks back at you blankly, “I can’t force your body into Heat.” 

“That’s why you wanted me to stay.” You accuse.

“Perhaps I’m feeling territorial.” He agrees.

“No, you wanted me to stay in hopes of it sparking my Heat—you know an Omega’s Heat can be triggered by an Alpha’s presence sometimes.” 

Suguru remains even, almost gentle, “and you know that that can only happen when an Omega has a pre-established and trusted relationship with the Alpha. Only if the Omega—in some way—wants the Alpha in their presence.” 

You swallow hard. You feel light headed. 

“Alphas can’t just spark the Heat of any random Omega.” He adds, watching you carefully. 

“But you were hoping for this!” You snap, feeling thin and worn down suddenly, “you—you wanted this.”

“I was curious if it’d work.” He admits.

“You set me up.” Your voice is higher than usual, more distressed, filled with more concern. 

“Now, now—“

“I want to go back to my room.” You demand suddenly, “before—before it gets too late. And I don’t want to see you at all until it’s over. I don’t want to see anyone.” You’re beginning to tremble all over. 

You can feel your fear mounting as you stare down the realization that you’re going to have your first Heat in years. 

Tears prick your eyes. 

“You’re staying here.” Suguru says simply. 

“No—“ you bite out, all teeth, all fear and aggression. “I’m getting away from you.” 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Suguru replies coolly, but there’s a sharp, icy edge in his tone, as if dealing with an unruly and temperamental child.

Immediately, you have the urge to start snarling and yelling and stamping your feet. You feel like the unruly child he is treating you as. You can feel your anger and fear like a bubble in your chest, mounting into something horrible, and you’re terrified to let it burst.

Suguru stands slowly, “you’re spiraling—come here.”

“No,” you snap, wincing back from him. 

Suguru holds your gaze.

“Then listen to me carefully.” 

Your eyes, glassy with fever and fear, a little too bright, collide with his.

“What did I tell you last night?” He asks slowly. 

Your flush worsens. You can feel the heat burn and eat through your cheeks. You want to run and hide, you want to lash out and growl. 

“I-I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Take a breath.” 

Despite everything, you take in a shuddering, greedy gulp of air.

“What did I tell you last night?” 

You rack your mind, forcing yourself to focus on his voice and breathe. What did he say last night that would be of importance today? Now?

You swallow hard when you realize it.

You pick your head up. 

“You wouldn’t—do anything—if I wasn’t in my right mind and I’m not.”

“No,” he agrees, “you aren’t. So I will not touch you sexually—” And then he holds your gaze for too long, “not even when you beg me.” 

“I will not beg you—“ 

“I will hold you and care for you. But I will not give you what you so desperately will want.” He says slowly, carefully. 

Blindly, you reach—and for what, you aren’t quite sure, “what about you? Will I spark your Rut?”

“I’ve taken a suppressant and will continue to do so.” 

“You planned this,” you say again sharply, “you knew.” 

“Would you prefer I not take the suppressant? Would you like to see what happens—will it make it fair for you?” Suguru asks calmly, so lax that it makes your hands ball into tight fists. 

Pieces of you war and squabble and fight inside of you, opposing forces, opposing ideas. Part of you wants to force him to suffer, too, part of you is angry and hurt that he wouldn’t want to share his Rut with you.

But it also frightens you. You know what would happen then—aren’t too sure it still won’t happen now. 

And you’ve never—

You’ve never shared a heat before. Not with an Alpha, an Omega, or a Beta. You have always ran and hid, tucked yourself into small, dark places, and cried and cried alone, hugging yourself. Weathering your own storm. 

You can’t decide if it terrifies you more that you won’t be alone or that you don’t want to be alone. 

Despite everything, your bitter rationale wins. 

“No,” you bite out. “Take your suppressant. And keep your hands to yourself.” 

You turn on your heel and storm back into the bedroom. 

You slam the door so hard that it slants cockeyed on its hinges, hanging itself in place at a strange angle.

You throw yourself down onto the bed, shoving your face into the pillow you’d once been sleeping peacefully on, and a frustrated scream rips through your throat.

You can feel the pressure of tears.

You curl around the pillow, hugging it closely with your face still shoved into it. Your tears blur and push past all your resolve, which crumbles to dust the moment you let out the first breath, and it’s part sob.

You can’t even properly name why you’re crying—you’re scared, you think. You’re emotional and frustrated and aching. You feel vulnerable and confused and bitter. You feel needy and delicate. You feel suddenly young and foolish, to be lured here like this, but also to be alone and longing.

You’re hardly alone, though. 

You can smell his scent still, all over the bed, all over you. 

It soothes you. 

It sickens you that it soothes you.

So you cry—you cry, holding onto your pillow for dear life, until you exhaust yourself.

Until sleep claims your feverish body again and you welcome it’s darkness gladly.

***

Pain awakens you. 

It’s later in the afternoon now, early evening with the way the sun has paved its course through the sky. 

Your Heat has gotten significantly worse.

Your body aches, the chill of the fever, and the sickly warmth of your insides  make for an awful combination.

Worst of all, you can feel the pressure most between your legs.

You shift them and realize there’s—

There’s a slick glide against your inner thighs. 

Oh, god, you think oh, god, oh god, oh god.

You need—

Water. Something.

Suguru— 

Your brain freezes to a halt.

His name spins around your mind.

You half hope he won’t be there that if you leave the bedroom in search of water or—

Suppressants.

You roll to the edge of the bed, a wave of dizziness overcomes you. Despite that, you force yourself to stand on wobbling, fawn legs.

You quietly try to crack the door into the smallest of openings, only a peak, a sliver of light from the other room. 

But instantly, you are caught.

“You’re awake finally.” Suguru says, “you should drink water, eat a little.” 

You don’t budge at first. 

“Do you have more suppressants?” 

You watch Suguru’s head tilt. 

“It's specific to an Alpha’s Rut—it wouldn’t do anything for you.” He answers, “will you come out?” 

“No.” You respond, gripping the knob of the door with curled knuckles, tense fingers. 

“Will you let me in?” 

“No.” 

It’s growled, low and sharp. It echoes a little, charged and bristled. Scared. 

You slam the door again. It’s not sitting right on its hinges anymore. 

You return to the bed, arranging and fluffing pillows how you like them. You build a small wall of them on all sides of you, 

You burrow down into them, settling yourself into the small—nest—you’ve made. You try to take a steadying breath, but all that fills your nose is Suguru’s scent, dark fig and full sandalwood, hints of lush cream and walnut. It’s seductive—almost dreamy. It floats around you like a lure, tempting you. You curl inwards on a pillow again and his smell is stronger here. Deeper. More pungent and twinged with something heavier on the nose, a little more spiced, a scent you can’t place. Something you’d find at the nape of his neck. 

Without thinking, you rub your thighs together. 

A frustrated whine leaks out of you as you turn and toss in his bed. 

Your fingers twist in the sheets. 

“If I hand you water, will you drink it?” Suguru asks through the door and he is much closer than you thought he’d be now—just outside of it. 

“Please go away,” you try to snap, but your voice is strained and wane. 

“You need water, at least.” He sighs. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, either.” 

You bristle, “stop trying to take care of me.” 

“Stop being so stubborn.” Suguru replies, “I’m going to come in.” 

“No!” You snarl. 

Still, the doorknob twists slowly, gently, as if to not frighten you anymore than you already are. In a heartbeat, the door has creaked open and Suguru steps into your space. He has a glass of water in hand. 

You feel your hackles rise, shoulders drawing back and up like an aggressive, bad dog. Your cursed energy ripples around you as you growl and it’s not the humanly sort, but the one you have in your cursed form. 

“So fierce, aren’t you?” Suguru muses softly, taking slow steps towards the nest you’ve made. “I’m only here to give you water.” 

The closer he gets, the lower the growl gets.

Your muscles are so tense that you’re near trembling, as still as can be—unsure if you’re the prey or predator, some inbetween creature too frightened to do anything but be still, but make low threatening, inhuman noises. 

He manages to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“And so frightened.” He ducks his head a little in what could be a show of submission if it came from an Omega. “I told you—I’m not going to do anything to you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Don’t you trust me?” He asks and this time, he catches your eyes, a flicker of something darker in them. 

“Not like this—” you manage to get out. 

“You’re so tense.” 

“I’m—” the word catches, breaks from your throat, “scared.” 

Suguru softens instantly.

(And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s almost pleased. His scent softens, too, sweetens a little.) 

“How would you like me to prove myself this time?” Suguru asks lowly, “would you like to make me bleed again? Would you like to scream at me?” He cocks his head, “or would you like me to hold you? And nothing else?” 

You’re trembling so hard that your teeth are almost chattering with it. 

You realize very keenly that you want to be held. You want to be wrapped up in him, you want to be in his arms. You want. 

“N-no.” You manage to get out. 

“No?” He asks, “in the least, will you drink water for me?” In his broad hand is a glass of cool water, nearly drowning it with his own easy grip over top of it. 

The request is like honey. 

It's sweet in the veins, it’s meant to lure you.

Your mouth is dry. And your temples are throbbing.  

You feel shaky and suddenly realize how weak you are, a little woozy after everything. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps because he’s right, you haven’t eaten or drank anything all day. It’s nearly evening now. 

Perhaps it’s because of your first Heat in years. 

Slowly, you extend your hand to take the glass from him.

It’s shaking. Hard. 

“Will you allow me?” Suguru asks. 

You bristle, “just—give it to me—” 

“You’re shaking so hard, you’ll spill it.” He responds evenly. 

“I’m not a child.” You snap.

“You’re acting like one,” he says and there’s a smile in it, a little shadow of torment. And then he lowers his voice, soft and dark, “come here.” 

You almost go to him. 

“Stop it.” You bite out, “stop trying to do that.” 

“What am I doing?” He asks, “trying to help you?” 

“No! You know what you’re doing! You’re trying to—to sway me or something!” 

Suguru sighs, “come here.” He says again and it’s gentler now. 

You glare at him, eyes glassy with fever, with anger and fear. 

But he waits patiently. Serenely. He doesn’t give in, he doesn’t waver. You glance at the water in his hands and then back up at his face. He’s so calm, in the face of all your fright and anguish and discomfort. In fact, he seems to revel in it. Bask in it. 

Tears build suddenly in your eyes, much to your fury. Much to your frustration. The pressure behind your eyes is enough to leave you aching, a lump forming in your throat. 

Instantly, Suguru coos, “oh, what’s wrong?” 

You fight the urge to let out a sob or cry harder. 

“Why must you humiliate me?” You ask suddenly. The tears fall despite your best attempts at stopping them. “Why must you torment me?” 

Suguru sets the glass of water down on the nightstand beside the bed. 

In an instant, he’s gathered you into his arms, into his lap. He cradles you, tucks your head beneath his chin and carefully bundles you into the crux of his chest. 

This makes a small sob work it’s way out of you.

He shushes you gently, rocks you a little, “I’m not trying to torment you.” 

“Yes, you are,” you cry, outright, even as you turn your face into his chest to hide there. Even as you cling to him.

“I’m trying to take care of you—is being taken care of humiliating?” 

“Yes,” you get out between another rough sob. 

His hand strokes slowly over your back, pressing you deeper into his chest—his scent is strong here. Dark oud. Sandalwood. Fig. It’s rich, as if he’s pleased or content, almost humming with it.

Perhaps to try and soothe you. Perhaps because it really does please him to have you crying, falling apart in his arms.

You can’t stop the emotions that rise inside you like a tidal wave, can’t stop the way you just want to cling to him. It’s horrible, you cry harder, because it does feel good to be held by him. To be cooed to.

Taken care of.

He rocks you like a mother might rock their child. 

He rocks you until you settle down, until you’re sniffling and going lax in his arms.

You peak up at him through an angry, wet eye. 

“You’re an awful man.” 

“I know,” he agrees gently, reaching up to touch carefully at your cheek, to wipe away your tears with his thumb.

“You torment me.”

“I know,” he consoles softly.

Your head is spinning with him, heady, and filled with pressure. You sniffle hard. His arms around you are warm and strong. He’s so broad. He shrouds you in him, tucks you into him where you might feel safer. He smells heavenly—enough that you think about turning your nose into his throat and scenting him. You think of sinking your teeth down into him.

He strokes the hair from your face gently. 

You realize keenly that he is not going to leave you. 

Not now, during this Heat, or perhaps ever. 

You realize that you have gotten yourself straight into the belly of the beast. You have gotten yourself entangled with someone who you don’t think has ever let go of anything in his life. You think he bites and doesn’t release, jaws tight and locked, and you think you have gotten yourself between his teeth this time. 

A strange peace settles over you at the knowledge.

He won’t leave you.

And if you left him, he’d chase you down. 

How long have you wished for that? For someone to never leave? How long have you wished for some form of peace? 

Is this peace? 

When he reaches to lift the glass of water again, you do not fight him.

Carefully, he cradles the back of your skull with the crux of his large palm. He holds the glass to your lips. You let him. With a tenderness that makes you feel strange, he lets you drink from the cup. Cool water. 

You’re thirstier than you realize. 

Your hands come up like you may touch the glass, hold it yourself, but he pulls it away. 

God forbid he let you do it on your own. 

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand. You can’t help but glare at him again—he’d begged to do it for you and now, right when you wanted more, he denies you. 

Again, you ask yourself, is this peace? 

A cramp rolls through your lower back and the ache between your legs strengthens into a horrible throb. 

The whimper that gets torn out of you is a pained and high sound. New tears sting your eyes for entirely different reasons. Your skin feels hypersensitive, prickling with every touch, every place you meet. You shiver. Another cramp, somewhere low in your hip bones, rocks throughout your body. 

Your fist tightens in his clothes. You shift with the smallest, most subtle rock in your pelvis. You grit your teeth together.

You realize the ache in your center; the pressure. 

“Hurts,” you eke out, breath tight in your chest. 

You take a shallow breath. 

“Where does it hurt?” He asks, stroking over your arms, your shoulders—petting you. 

You narrow your eyes in another weak glare. 

“You’re being cruel again.” You get out.

“Tell me where,” he murmurs. 

“My lower back—“ you manage to get out, squirming again, “my—my hips,” 

He hums lightly in praise and then coaxes, “lay on your stomach?” 

You shake your head sharply, “no—what are you going to do?”

“Massage your lower back. Nothing more.” He urges you this time physically, jostling you from the cradle of his arms, from his lap. 

“I give you an inch and you take a mile,” you tell him, easing out of his embrace. 

He doesn’t let you go far. 

“Lay on your stomach for me.” He says again, voice warmer and soft to your ears, like oozing honey. 

Against all of the alarm bells rattling and clanging in your mind, you turn and lay on your belly. 

You fold your arms beneath your head. You rest your cheek against them. 

You try not to squirm as another cramp bears down on you, deep pressure pulsing in your lower hips. You twist a little, a breath of pain working its way out of you, hissing between your clenched teeth. 

Suguru takes position behind you and panic seizes you the moment that he straddles the back of your thighs. He almost—

“Suguru—” you warn and the sound is half growl, half whine. Your voice is torn by something terrible and raw. Fear. Anger. 

“I’m keeping my word,” he soothes and in a moment, his big hands are fitting to your lower back. You are so tense, you think you’re going to shake apart again, so tense that you’re going to splinter and crack under the pressure. You hold perfectly still. 

But just like before, all he does is move his hand over the length of your back. 

He coos. 

He hushes when you make a noise. 

He soothes. 

His hands, warm and firm, work their way through stiff muscles, through the awful pain of the cramps. 

Slowly, you begin to melt into the bed beneath you. Your head lolls deeper into your folded arms. Your eyes grow heavy, lashes sinking and fluttering, like wings now soaking wet—trying, and failing, to rise.

His hands are careful around the contours of you. He rubs at your neck, but is cautious of your scent glands, and then he dips back down the small arch and curve of your back to dig his thumbs into the meat of your lower back. 

It feels good.

And the way he rumbles softly to you, little words of praise or comfort—makes something tightly woven begin to slowly unravel inside of you. You sink into the bed, into his hands that press and massage. 

Your body flares into a dull throb. 

You try not to squirm.

There’s a deep, horrible pressure between your legs. It’s an ache. A bundle of muscles on the inside of you, squirming and cramping down around nothing—shifting the bones around of your pelvis around, turning your insides over—all in need of—

In need of—

Your head is foggy. 

You arch a little into his hands, into his touch, like a cat finally enjoying itself. 

“There,” Suguru murmurs and he’s leaning over you slightly, “feels better when you give in, doesn’t it?” 

His scent is strong. 

You go bleary with it all.

Another cramp twists up your insides. The aching inside you pulls taut.

You roll over onto your back beneath him, belly up and vulnerable. Suguru lifts himself away only momentarily to allow you to do it. And then you’re gazing up at him, reaching for him.

“Suguru—“ your voice pitches, cracks on a desperate, upwards note.

Your fingers tighten in the front of his clothing.

“—need you,” 

A hint of a smile. 

“But I’m right here.” He tells you, voice lilting with false naïveté.

Your blood sings.

“Don’t be cruel,” you beg again, “you know what I mean—“

“I’m afraid I don’t, darling.” 

Tears suddenly build again, the pressure of them sharp and cutting. More pressure in your poor body. More aching and pain. 

You twist a little beneath him, hips arching up on their own, searching—

“Suguru,” you whine, pulling at his clothes, pawing at him. And then a word that splinters out unintentionally, “please—“ 

“Please, what?” He asks, but his eyes are gleaming and sharp. 

You curse low and he laughs softly, even as your nails dig into his bicep, his shoulder. 

Still, you swallow down all your shyness and fear and embarrassment. You pull at him. 

“Please touch me?” You whisper. “It hurts so bad.” 

Another shift and squirm of your hips, your body. 

“Touch you?” He asks in return, but he’s so—so smug about it. “Is a massage not enough?”

Your anger spikes sharply and you suddenly tighten your hold on him, dig into skin, try to bleed and mark. You hitch your hips up against his and feel—

Feel how hard he is. You tighten your leg around his waist. 

“Stop tormenting me.”

Suguru goes perfectly still despite your moving and twisting, hips rocking up against his own. 

He detangles you, sitting up to look down on you, pulling his hips away from yours. You squabble to pull him back, digging nails into his muscled forearms. “Suguru—“ you whine, “isn’t this what you wanted?” 

He takes a slow breath in through his nose and you think he’s trying to steady himself. He huffs it out. His eyes are so dark—darker than you’ve ever seen before. 

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” he tells you and his voice is low, a soft rasp, as he carefully unlatches your hold on him. He presses your hands down into the bed, pins you easily. You melt into the hold blearily, squirming so that you might feel him where you need him—

“But it isn’t what you wanted.” He tells you, voice just a husk. His eyes are lidded as you find them, burning, “remember?” 

“Suguru—“

“I promised you.” He continues, “I wouldn’t do a thing, not until you were clear headed.” 

You rear back, “what?” 

“Are you really so surprised?” He asks, voice lilting and for a moment you grasp to understand him, wading in dark waters, lost. “I warned you, last night.”

 Through the fog of your mind, it slowly becomes clear.

He led you here to suffer, with no intention of helping you. 

You have walked directly into his trap.

I would never beg, you’d told him.

But he’d made you hear him, loud and clear, while you were in your right mind. 

If only to throw the words back in your face now.

Your gaze sharpens on him.

You squirm, fighting his hold until he releases your wrists.

“You’re cruel.” You hiss with as much venom you can muster. “You did this on purpose.” 

“Perhaps only slightly.” 

You lash out; you strike him. Solidly, your palm connects to his cheek. It cracks to the side, skin blossoming pink almost instantly.

Through the curtain of his hair, you see the sliver of a smug smile. The smarting of his cheek. 

“Such a brat,” he rasps and when he pins you this time, there is a strange, unnerving gleam in his eye.

“I should punish you worse for that, hm? You’ve always done better with a guiding hand.” He says.

“You’re punishment enough.” You growl in his face, twisting and turning, trying to dislodge the hold he has on you. The one he’s always had on you. You strain and struggle, wrestling with it, with him. 

“The only one who has punished you is yourself.” He replies, letting you fuss and fight, “if you had just given in to what you so clearly want—told me, admitted to it, I could’ve been sharing this with you.” 

Then he really exudes his strength, stopping your wrestling almost seamlessly. You cry out with the way he holds you. 

“You don’t know my punishments—you only know your own.” 

When your eyes meet his, there is a wild gleam to them, one that sparks and sweeps the heat inside of you into an inferno. 

“If I suffer this week, I’ll make you suffer, too.” You finally promise.

Suguru smiles, the curve of it sharp and dark like a sickle, a crescent moon. 

“You can certainly try.” He agrees and finally rolls off of you. 

Cold air sweeps in, leaving you bereft and aching, strangely startled and alone. 

He stands. “I’m going to cook for you and then I’ll feed you.” His eyes flicker over you, a mess in his sheets, “I expect the glass of water to be finished when I’ve returned.” 

You open your mouth to growl—

“You’ll need the strength,” he then says lightly, “if you’re to make me suffer at all this week.”

There’s a new note in his scent, you catch it now in his absence. It lingers in his place; spiced tobacco. It's warm and thick on the tongue, strange and heady, and—unfortunately, miserably alluring.

The door you have slammed so many times now, remains ajar, wide open, when he finally leaves the bedroom. There is nothing between you.

And you think something is now ajar inside of you, too, wide open, and ripe for the taking.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for requesting my boyfriend to be more affectionate with me?

(🪴 for identification)

I'll try to keep this as brief as I possibly can. I (25F) have been living with my partner of 5 years (26M) for around 1 entire year. We share the rent of the apartment and prices of anything else the house needs, but otherwise we buy whatever we need ourselves.

I am in my second year of college while he's on his third. Our relationship never had many issues as we always were good at communicating and never tried to let issues get to us, but in recent months things have been getting harder for me to deal with.

Our rule was to usually keep saturdays free from work and studying to spend time with each other. This might sound dumb to some people, but judging as we both have to study and work during week days and I am a sensitive person I always found it necessary to have a day we can just stay with one another. He knows the importance of this for me as he was there with me during my bpd diagnosis and is also fully aware of how badly one of my exes fucked me up, so for all those past years in our relationship he was always loving and attentive to me, something which me and any of my friends can attest to.

However, in recent weeks (I'd say since around the middle of january?) he's been clearly avoiding me. I've tried to talk to him about whatever may be happening and he just said he's been focusing on studying for uni which is fully understandable and good! However, last week I asked him if we could spend this saturday (feb 24) together since I've been heavily missing him and he's possibly aware of that as he's mentioned my current behavior is off from my usual. (I almost told him he's the same, but I held off)

To my request, he replied he can't since he already promised a mutual friend of ours he'd be going to help him with something, to which I asked if I could join them! Again, it's a mutual friend so I didn't feel anything was wrong with that, but apparently I was intruding into his life and should let him have some time for himself.

Here is where I might be the asshole. After him acting cold to me for weeks and using the excuse that "he was busy, of course he can't be all warm and kind to me when he's stressed" (which mentally I called bullshit as I was doing the same things as him plus volunteering at the nearby school to help the kids and still kept trying to be affectionate), I snapped and said that if I'm his girlfriend, he should at least give me some affection and love (in a slightly louder tone of voice). I know anger issues have been a constant ever since before my diagnosis, but I've been keeping them somewhat under control since I began therapy, so I didn't break anything or hurt either of us, but I know my anger always scared him. He got defensive and said he loves me but is just busy and can't act affectionately towards me when he's constantly stressed, to which I replied that well, so am I but it didn't stop me from continuing to put effort into our relationship. After getting the cold shoulder from him for all those weeks I finally cried and locked myself into my room afterwards, packing to stay with my closest friend after I texted her if I could stay for a bit.

I'm currently with her and she's been making sure I'm comfortable and alright, trying to make time for us to watch things together or simply talk while I'm here so I don't feel so lonely. He has been texting me from a variety of things such as apologies to him trying to justify he was busy and stressed so of course he'd act cold to me. I've been replying to him, but after he called me overdramatic in one of the texts I've come back to ignoring him.

I don't want to throw out all our years together like this, but I still feel hurt and ignored by him from those weeks. I know we will have to talk sooner or later but currently I'm still scared of doing so.

So, am I the asshole for asking my partner to give me some attention? This isn't the first time this has happened, but definitely the first one it went this far and I feel that it's fully on me, for context.

What are these acronyms?

[pearlywritings]

Can we get a...

synopsis: twins’ seventh birthday is almost half a year away, but it seems that they already have a gift in mind. Though you surely did not expect this.

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader, your twin sons Rufus and Lucas

tw: fluff, pregnancy

word count: 3.5k+ words

Family AU Masterlist

What a peaceful February afternoon. The fire flickers and wood cracks in the fireplace, warming up the area around. In this peaceful noise you make out Adelinde's voice quietly discussing something with Elzer in his study, with a door left slightly ajar - a precaution so she can always hear in case you call for her. But you don't think you'll need her help anytime soon, feeling quite cozy at the moment - multiple pillows support your back as you are resting on the sofa, big comforter covers your body from stomach and down, two boys are snuggling under it from both sides of your body, providing additional warmth and contently squinting from your fingers threading through their thick locks and gently massaging their heads. Their teacher has just left not so long ago and you are letting them relax after the whole morning of studying. After all, a break for yourself was around the corner as well, so the trade papers you'd been reviewing were put on a coffee table aside. You'll have enough time to finish this little work Diluc still lets you do in your condition, while he himself is out to check on the tavern in the city and, as you are guessing, buy kids some treats for their good behavior as well.

You feel Rufus shift a little on your right, bringing your mind back to reality - for a moment the serene atmosphere lulled you into a slumber. It makes you aware of what the two redheads have been doing ever since they joined you in the living room to cuddle - silently exchanging glances over your six-(almost seven)-month pregnant stomach. They are up to something it seems, but there is no hint of mischief in the air, so it should be something harmless - you won't pry until they want to share it with you.

Which happens pretty soon, as the boys nod simultaneously and then two sets of ruby-like eyes glance up at your face and you see it as a signal for a conversation, drawing your hands away from their heads and resting around their half-turned to you bodies.

"Mama?" Rufus is the one who starts the conversation after a few more moments of silence. You tenderly smile and rub his back in reassurance.

"Yes, baby, what is it?"

"Remember how it's our birthday in August?" The boy continues as his brother fumbles with his fingers a little, giving out his nervousness. You know your boys, despite their quite creative and energetic nature they rarely ask for something overly crazy or something you and your husband couldn't afford for them, so this one must be really serious, if the younger of the twins fidgets at the prospect of it. Your fingertips slide to his arm and down to his hands, offering to hold them, and Lucas puts them onto your palm almost immediately.

"Of course I do, loves," your smile never disappears, if anything it gets wider - they will be turning seven, hard to believe it's been several years of your babies' lives already. "Oh! You have something in mind for how you want to celebrate it?" They shake their heads, so you try another, "presents?"

This time they confirm your guess with a nod and Lucas, playing with your fingers, hums. 

"And what might it be?" You ask curiously, once again witnessing how the boys exchange glances, as if deciding who'll be the one to announce it. To your surprise they both take deep inhale, look back at you and blurt the question out together:

"Canwegetadog!?"

"Wha-" caught off guard you stare at them with wide eyes, though very quickly recovering. "I am sorry, could you repeat that? I don't think I heard it with all this speed."

Twins pout, as if saying it again offends them very much, but eventually Lucas shakes your hand a little, asking for your attention, which you direct at him.

"Yes?"

"Me and Rufus were wondering… Would you and papa let us get a dog?"

Oh. A pet? Wow, this is new and serious indeed.

"A dog?" They nod again, tense like bowstrings awaiting for your reaction, almost not blinking as they stare at you. A little bit caught off guard you keep your silence for a few seconds, thinking over their request. But it looks like the lack of response from you is concerning for the twins, as they become even more fidgety and avert their ruby eyes, thinking they did the wrong thing, after all, that's an almost life-changing matter. They nearly jump when your hands come to rest on their backs, comfortingly rubbing.

"What kind of dog? Do you have something in mind or you just decided you simply want a dog?" 

As if by a wave of the magic wand their shoulders relax, gaze back on you and smiles once again plastered on their cute little faces. Rufus immediately starts untangling himself from under the comforter.

"Oh, we can show! I'll go get it, wait a moment, ma!" Finally free, he jumps off the sofa, swiftly turns back to tuck the fabric back at your side and quickly runs to the stairs and to their room. Lucas presses himself into you again, one arm wrapping around your stomach and his face tucked into your ribs.

"You are not mad?" You hear in a muffled question, which makes you chuckle and put your own hand on top of his.

"Of course not, Lu. An animal companion is a sweet idea, I love it. But before I, or your father make any decisions, we need to fully understand what you two want and how to operate it," and for you to know what to use when appealing the idea to your husband, because it happened so that there’s never been a conversation about pets, aside from his falcon, who is more of a companion to him, and the kids are still wary around her.

"Oh, you mean like, the size, the eating and walking habits, how it is with people?" The younger peaks up and you are amazed at how clever he is.

"Yes, that's what I mean…how do you know?"

"We read it in a book brother went to get. Dad let us use the library in his study and Rufus found an encyclopedia about dogs. There are pictures and all kinds of interesting stuff. We asked Addie to help us a little with the words we didn't know."

You hum in acknowledgement, not having time to say anything else, because you can hear your other son reappearing on top of the stairs and soon tapping his way down and back to you and his brother.

"Here!" He proudly presents you a pretty slim volume and this time you don't even need both hands to take it. Lucas patiently waits for his brother to climb back under the warm fabric and get comfortable and only then tells you to open page 56.

Placing the book partly on your belly, you start searching for the page and find it pretty quickly, as it appears to be the first one in the Snezhnayan national breeds section. While many domestic animals were bred and selected in their homelands, it's not strange to see some of them distributed to other regions as well, so, the non-Mondstadt-originated dog doesn't surprise you.

Seeing the name of the breed though makes you snort on the inside, imagining the look on Diluc's face when he hears about it.

"Snezhnayan Borzoi?" You ask, looking at the illustration of a very elegant dog with long slim legs, equally long curved body, long snout, long tail, long beautiful fur… yeah, everything about this dog is long, which in the end gives a very noble-looking complexion. 

Boys nod.

"Yes, we really, really want it… Look how pretty it is!"

"And you both agreed on the same dog?" You ask a little bit in disbelief, knowing very well, how different some of their tastes are.

"Well…" Rufus trails off, staring at his brother, who returns the same kind of look to him.

"We wanted different," Lucas admits, "but when we told Addie, she said two dogs are too much."

Even if they don't elaborate, you understand the meaning behind it. Too much in general. And also there is soon going to be a new member of the family, which means your and Diluc's attention would be occupied even more, and if one dog (or a puppy, at first) is still manageable, two is hardly so.

Looks like your boys are growing so well, learning to make some sacrifices and be open to compromising, your heart couldn't be more happy for them.

"This beauty is pretty indeed," you say after their explanation and you can see how ruby eyes light up with hope. "And you came to an agreement, great job, boys!"

Two sets of arms wrap around your neck and both of your cheeks get a loud smooch.

"Thank you, mama! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

You laugh joyfully, turning head side to side to kiss their foreheads.

"Don't thank me just yet, we still have a game to play," ah, yes, the game the three of you practice before laying out some of the ideas to their father. It both helps to convince him faster and for the twins to develop the argumentative skills. And also works vice versa when they go to dad first with the matter where you have the final word in.

"Why don't you prove to me this sweet dog is the one for you and that generally it is a good idea," the smiles get wider, as they understand what you are implying, and by the confident looks on their faces you can guess they’ve already thought beforehand of what to say to you.

"Yes, mom! So," Lucas decides to not beat around the bush and start right away, "we do not ask for two dogs. We know it is a big deal," he says it so proudly, that you can hardly contain a chuckle.

"Secondly," Rufus points into the book and you glance at the numbers presented there, "this dog is big."

"And why is that good?" the older twin furrows his brows for a moment in thought, pursing his lips. You patiently wait, before he comes up with something.

"I think a small dog is hard to notice and if it barks, the sound is too, um…" ruby gaze darts to the side for help.

"Disturbing," his brother offers.

"Yes, disturbing! And you'll soon have a baby…" both boys look at your belly and Rufus gently pats it, which brings a bright glint to your eyes. They are so considerate.

"Besides," Lucas chirps again, "they are quite lazy while inside and won't be too noisy. When outside they love to run a lot and we have a lot of land around for it. I think we can easily go for a walk three times a day with it."

"Hm, but it says here that each walk should take at least an hour. Sure you can handle it?" You point at the paragraph with the descriptions and boys start thinking. "You should understand that this will be your dog and it will listen to you."

"Yeah, we read that borzoi do not really listen, and to the people who are not their owners…" Rufus sighs, and you see the understanding that maids will be of little help sink in. "But we will try very hard! We can walk after breakfast… ah, wait, the classes…" at that you chuckle, and reach to ruffle his hair.

"Don't worry, I am sure your dad won't mind rearranging the beginning of your classes to start a bit later," their faces beam with a smile again.

"And then we can easily walk in the afternoon and evening!"

"That's great, loves," the praise encourages them even more and by the time it's lunch hour, the twins have laid out some more proving points, making you believe Diluc would be easily swayed.

"You really want this dog, aren't you…" you muse, finishing reading the article the book offered. They eagerly nod. From the corner of your eye you notice Adelinde, who has come out to check on you three and the fireplace. Suddenly she chuckles.

"Sorry, My Lady, I happened to overhear your conversation."

"Oh, that's fine," you offer her a reassuring smile, which she returns with a sweet one of her own. "But what made you laugh, Adelinde?"

"Just remembered how animated young masters have been for the last couple of days, when talking about this beautiful dog in my presence."

"Is that so?" The boys sheepishly giggle, starting to make their way out of the comforter's embrace. "Ah, nevermind," shaking your head and passing a book back to Rufus, you move the comforter completely off of you, and, with some assistance from Adelinde, rise to your feet.

"It's time for lunch, isn't it? Let's go have it, and when dad comes home in the evening, you'll talk to him, alright?"

"Mhm!"

"Good. Now go and put the book back into your room, wash your hands and be ready to dig in," your sons disappear as quickly as you finish your speech. The woman next to you offers you her arm and you thankfully lean on it, even if it's just mere meters to the dining table.

An opening door draws your attention from the book and instantly the bookmark is placed between the pages as your eyes connect with your husband's vermillion ones. The jacket has probably been taken away by the maids to clean and dry and he also lacks a cravat and a vest. What he isn't lacking is a small smile brightening up his whole face and reflecting in the burning fire of his soul.

"Good evening, my flame," the greeting is sweet on his tongue and the almost unnoticeable sprint in his steps is an indicator of how much the Master of the Dawn Winery has been craving to be back with you, his wife. The bed dips under his knee and the gloves are swiftly taken off and thrown to the side. Big scarred warm palms cup your cheeks and a kiss is pressed against your lips, sealing his words like a barrel of dandelion wine.

Diluc cradles your face in his hands so delicately, so gingerly, you start thinking he is back to viewing you as a glass piece that can easily break, which was proved wrong many times before. You kiss him back with a little more force to remind him you are not fragile and the man seems to chuckle, drawing his face away to gaze at you lovingly. Only for his eyes to widen a little when you peck his nose and rub yours against it.

A rich laugh is born within the confinement of his chest and a few more fleeting kisses are placed all over your cheeks.

"Missed me this much?" You murmur quietly, afraid to break the atmosphere. Your husband hums, rubbing his thumbs over your cheekbones.

"Yes…missed you so much," then his gaze flits down to your stomach and the next moment the palms are pressed against your rounded belly, with lips following soon after. 

"Missed the little one too, love."

Instantly your fingers go into his flaming hair, releasing them from a high ponytail and carefully running digits through the heavy locks. You let him have his moment, lovingly staring at the back of his head, listening to the softest murmurs offered to the baby in your belly, your third child, your soon-to-be-joy. Just two more months.

"Do you feel sore?" His burning gaze is back on your calm one, worrying about you overworking your body - you are carrying a big weight on your midsection all the time, he knows it's hard.

"Luc, love, have you forgotten? You literally increased payment to my maids to take care of me whenever you can't. Soon I'll get addicted to all these nice massages."

"That's not a bad thing."

"Yeah, I am aware, and you could use some too. I can feel your tense back under my fingertips"

"Love," he groans but you know, it's not of annoyance, just him being playful. "Besides you know our staff adore you. Helping you in any way possible, especially now, is no trouble for them."

“Your ability to convince me of anything in the sweetest ways possible scares me,” you laugh, when he gives you an unamused glance, and poke his cheek with a finger.

“Speaking of convincing, have boys already gotten to you with one?”

You bring your hands from his hair to your stomach when your husband draws himself back and off the bed to properly undress and change while having a conversation with you. By the sound of him lightly chuckling you know they have.

“Oh, when I tell you I got worried when they met me at the front door and urgently asked to go to my study - you better believe it,” he grabs the gloves he threw away minutes ago and walks to put them in a drawer.

“So, how went the discussion of their desired birthday present?” You really are curious - after all that’s such a big decision and, by the looks of it, means a lot to your sons, who, as it now becomes clear to you why, have even spent the last week being on their best, borderline perfect behavior.

Diluc grabs a hanger from a wardrobe and puts it on the bed, starting to work on his shirt. A concentrated look on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and the need to know his thoughts stirs impatience inside.

“Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“Well,” a fond look of his crimson eyes graces your somewhat displeased expression, quickly making you melt, earning a smile from him as well, “it went very well.”

“For you or for them?”

“What if I say both?” he teases and you almost roll your eyes. If the bed wasn’t so big you’d reach out and kick his leg.

“Come oooon, I am intrigued!”

“I know you are,” a chuckle.

“You know and yet you keep it a secret? Unbelievable. Your brother’s antics rub on you it seems. Don’t look at me like that, we both know you were even worse in your teens.”

“One day he won’t see the light of it,” Diluc promises without malice and, finally changed, climbs onto the bed to settle by your side, only to be attacked by your loving kisses and a big hug, which he accepts eagerly, encouraging your affectionate clinginess.

“Tell meeee, did they do well?”

“In their game of conviction? Of course they did, you are their teacher,” at that you giggle.

“So… Does that mean you told them you’d get a dog? The exact one they want?”

“I didn’t say I’d get them a dog, but I promised to think.”

“Only to get it as a surprise?”

“You know me too well, my flame. And though their choice surprised me, I don't have anything against it.”

“Though the land of origin has it against you?” The man sighs at your joke, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“It’s going to be hard, but I’ll put someone from my people in charge of that. After all, borzoi aren’t popular in Mond, it’s probably been years since the last time some noble adopted a dog like that as an,” he twists his fore and middle fingers, “ ‘exotic pet’.”

“True,” you agree, reaching out to take his hand and put a head on his shoulder. “You think we'll handle it on top of everything?"

"I think we will. I suppose we'll have some time to get adjusted to having the baby here. Then I could help Ru and Lu train the puppy. Borzoi are quite temperamental, after all, they’ll need assistance."

"And once again you are ready to go such lengths to make our babies happy. You are a great father, you know?”

He doesn’t even need to respond, because you both know the answer to this question. Diluc leans to rest the cheek against your head and intertwines your fingers, gently squeezing to tighten the hold. Your words, this exact admittance brought a bigger smile on the man’s face and caused butterflies to dance in his chest, caressing his heart with the soft trembles of their wings. Yes, he’d do many things to assure his family’s safety and happiness, as it became his life purpose after meeting you.

Besides, birthdays happen once a year, right? And getting a dog isn’t all that extraordinary, - knowing his boys and their wild imagination he could’ve expected something mind-blowing (like that time when they saw Klee using her bombs and begged you two to install those instead of the fireworks. Obviously you two declined, letting Albedo take care of that part, so in the end Rufus and Lucas still were entertained and content with the fire show).

So, yeah, Snezhnayan Borzoi it is.

Maybe he could teach it to bark at Kaeya. Just because he can.

[vnamps]

THE GRADE AID. 003

prev. | next

overall summary: lee min-ho, your absolute academic rival, an absolute menace needs help to raise his grade before the semester ends, and who better to ask for help than you, the grade aid.

word count : 1.3k

overall contents: minho is cocky, a bunch of teasing, angst, fights, mentions of injuries, good ending.

authors note: I got carried away idk i need to stop watching kdramas.

Ever since Minho's meeting with Jeongin and Jisung, the study sessions haven't been the same. Minho has been acting like what one would even call a ...gentleman? It was like your everyday pleas for his menace behavior to stop were finally being heard.

And as the weeks grew, he became even a little more tolerable, to say the least. And even so, that didn't stop you from being surprised as he approached an offer to you after one of the study sessions.

"What?" You looked at him as if you'd seen a ghost, his calm expression remaining. Of course, it wasn't unusual to hang out with others in high school; But to be asked by someone you have no association with besides during your tutoring sessions is absolute maniac to you.

"It's a generous offer, you don't just say 'what' you give a clear answer" he says, deadpan look on his face.

"I'm sorry Minho, I'm too busy for a hangout session with someone I'm already spending too much time with than I need"

He peers out the window, a grin appearing on his face. "How are you meant to get home then?"

Your gaze followed his as he looked back at the raindrops that raced each other down the glass, every now and then merging with each other and falling faster .

"I'll... find a way"

"oh please, it's 40 degrees outside and harshly raining and you live more than a mile away from the school, allow me my one chance at being nice, you should be grateful"

you roll your eyes at that, looking down at your books and lack of a bag to fit them all. it's so far looking like you'll just have to take him up on the offer.

"Fine. Take me straight home" You grab your stuff and head for the exit as he smiles in victory as phase one of his plan succeeds.

The car ride was painfully more quiet than he intended as happy together by the turtles played quietly, the sound of the music mixing in with the loud sounds of rain.

As you stop at your home, you're about to open the door before he locks it. "At least let me walk to the door, you're holding valuable information for me and I wouldn't allow it to get wet"

You roll your eyes once more, sighing as you watch him reach in the back for an umbrella, opening his door and opening it.

Your eyes trail him as he makes his way to your side, opening the door. "what a gentleman " you say sarcastically as you try rushing to your door, him trailing behind you.

As you knock on the door, you're greeted by your mother and a warm smile. "Y/n! ooo, who's this cute boy?" she glanced at Minho, a grin on her face.

He smiles back. "Lee Minho" his charming smile was even enough to fool you as you groan.

"Well come inside, wouldn't want you to get caught in this horrible weather..." your eyes widened , looking back at Minho who looked down at you with a grin as he nodded.

You both sat on the couch as your mother prepared tea, Minho sitting and looking innocent as ever.

"I guess we are getting to hangout after all. Aren't you wondering why the world works in wonderful ways?"

"What I'm wondering is what I must've done in my past life to get this much karma."

Minho scoffs, glaring at you before glancing around at your home.

"I must say though, your house is quite small..." Now it was your turn to scoff, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry? not everyone has a house filled with rooms that collect dust all day. its called convenience."

"And my home isn't convenient? What if on days like these there is a tourist that needs shelter? "

"That'd be the least of your concerns, your family is pure evil, no goodness in their hearts at all"

"I think that's very prejudice-" Before he can finish his sentence, your mother is walking in with a tray that has mugs filled with black cherry tea.

The smell is wonderful, one that catches both you and Minho off guard and certainly is a contrast from your previous moods.

"Wow.. that smells amazing.." Minho says and you can't help but to agree with him for once in your life.

Your mother sets the tray down on the coffee table, smiling at you two. "Now, we don't have coasters but this'll do." She looks up at Minho then at the clock. "You can go back whenever you feel. Any friend of Y/n's is family to us"

Minho then smiles, putting his lips against the edge of the cup, sipping slowly as the steam touches the tip of his nose. The taste was delicious. There was a bit of sugar added within the tea to gift it a sweeter taste.

The way his eyes light up as soon as the taste hits his tongue, a small smile that comes and goes. It's something that almost made you forget he was the same one you were arguing with just 2 minutes ago.

The rain had stopped leaving a dewy smell that illuminated the bursting colors that mixed in the sky.

You stood by Minho, getting lost in it as you were about to wish him goodbye (your mother's orders)

"Woah ... I don't get to see those colors from where I live." He looks mesmerized as the dark grey clouds contrast the blue, pink, and orange ombre.

Your snort a bit, glancing at him. "you mean you don't get to see the sky? "

He rolls his eyes before shaking his head.

"Not like this, it feels so... raw" You furrow your eyebrows as he continues.

"Even the tea today, which was amazing- I... I've never had something like that before."

It feels a bit lightheaded to look up at the sky and also think but it also feels a bit humbling to know that there is something more prettier than big white fancy houses and all the newest tech .

You sigh, digging your hands into your pockets. "Well, that's a normal life for ya. Things like this go unnoticed by everyone but I think we're the most unappreciative of it as we get such a view. You should get going, Minho. Good night " You walk back into your home, shutting the door behind you before Minho watches the lights turn off.

taglist :@palindrome969 @rpwplost @valkyriexo @intrikatie @brainrotahahaha @turtledove824 @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @ashxxgyu @linosalwayslinos

[onceonafullmoon]

A Marionette's Ball

Yan! Chevalier x Fem! Reader x Yan! Gilbert

Tw!! Manipulation, threats of violence, implied captivity, period typical misogyny and Gilbert Von Obsidian himself

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal.  And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

-----

You need to stop fiddling with your necklace.

You know you need to calm down, but doing so is another story; you can practically feel the weight of everyone’s stares on you, not malicious, but prying still in their curiosity.

And it’s tough fighting the urge to snatch one of the champagne flutes off of the waiter's plates and down it in one gulp, but the subtle warning of Chevalier’s fingers pressing at your waist helps you forget the idea.

Right.

Just make a good impression and then you’ll get to go back to your own schedule with only one scrutinizing set of eyes on you.

It’s almost impossible to mess this up anyways, with all the effort Sariel has been putting into making you a “true lady befitting of a prince”.

Ha.

The audacity of that claim makes you laugh. 

As if you had a choice in any of this. 

As if you were something more than a puppet on a string pulled by the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Nevertheless, you pushed through the lessons easily enough, it was, at the very least, an escape from Chevalier’s smothering presence, although you would rather have buried your nose into a good book instead.

At any rate, it doesn’t seem like much of your work will be put into play considering the way that Chevalier has you glued to his side.

You suppose you get the hostility, he’s always been a touch smothering even before… this, and it doesn’t help that princes from other nations are currently visiting too.

Not that you would have the opportunity to meet any of them considering how anal Chevalier was about your “safety”.

In fact, if it were a year ago when you were still “unruly” he would have probably kept you chained in his room the whole time.

Well, if all good behavior amounted to was this then you probably could have thrown a fit to get yourself locked up again. Now it was too late, and you were stuck smiling fakely at some random noble who came to give his greetings. 

“My, my, if it isn’t the mystery woman that everyone’s been wondering about. Everyone’s been wondering about the one who stole the Chevalier Micheal’s heart, it's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you.” The nobleman, who you recall vaguely being named Lord Wessley, greets you with a certain, subtle prying look on his face as he studies you.

“Oh, you flatter me, but I’m afraid I’m not much to speak of. Any compliments should be redirected towards my fiancé.” You smile, cringing at the use of the word fiancé but happy enough with the way Chevalier’s brow furrows ever so slightly in annoyance.

You can almost hear his voice ringing out in your ears.

“If you have enough time to dish out praise, then you have enough time to do something useful with yourself, simpleton.”

“Praise worthy indeed!” Another man cuts in, rudely, albeit he’s possibly a bit drunk already. “An arsenal of military feats, a genius intellect that only appears once a century, and now a bride to be, you’re truly something else Prince Chevalier!”

You have to try your hardest to bite back the laugh bubbling up in you and Chevalier slightly grimaces.

Wessley furrows his eyebrows slightly at the intrusion but doesn’t comment, or rather, doesn’t get the chance to comment as he’s interrupted again. 

“And what a beauty she is, I can see why you’ve kept her locked up away from the rest of us!”

And now you are no longer smiling.

Karma really is a bitch.

The grip around your waist tightens and you find yourself conflicted about whether to celebrate the (hopefully only) verbal lashing this misogynistic bastard will get or to intervene for the sake of this very clearly drunk man.

Empathy wins out in the end, but also because you don’t trust Chevalier not to immediately jump at the chance to “incidentally” find this man charged with treason.

“I’m flattered by praise, truly, but you look a bit sickly to me, are you feeling alright?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off smoothly.

“Poor thing, I bet you can hardly stand, much less answer coherently, but there are several couches in the foyer for you to rest at. I’d escort you myself but, considering the circumstances, perhaps Lord Wessley can escort you instead?”

Of course, Wessley himself isn’t too keen on leaving the conversation, seeing as he probably started it to discuss his own business. But when you phrase it in such a way of offering good will, he can’t refuse. 

With a furrowed brow he replies in kind and leaves.

Perhaps Sariel’s lessons did come in handy, you think as you find yourself alone again.

A sigh from Chevalier has you mending your thoughts, not completely alone, unfortunately.

“How bothersome.” He grumbles, finally letting his arm drop from your waist.

“Yeah, being stuck around someone you can’t stand, tell me about it.” 

He gives you a look which would scare the living daylights out of even a battle hardened soldier, to which you innocently smile at.

You know him well enough to know when you’re actually in trouble.

“What? Just offering some words of support in your trying times Prince Chevalier, now wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

Your smile dips into a frown when instead of falling for the taunt he smirks at you.

“Prince Chevalier? I recall being referred to as fiancé earlier.”

You narrow your gaze, regretting your earlier decision to speak.

“Don’t read much into it, you’ll strain your eyes trying to find nothing.”

He simply smirks again.

“Complacency is a dangerous thing isn’t it?”

He leans in closer, tilting your head up, sending roils of annoyance and slight embarrassment through you as you fix your eyes on his face, unwavering from his.

“...It’d be a shame for you, if all your efforts were for naught.”

He chuckles derisively, letting you go. 

“Now, wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

You glare at him, annoyed that he used your words against you, before deciding to make a tactful retreat.

“Now that I’ve taken care of your nuisances, I’m taking care of mine for a bit and freshening up. Does that please your highness, or should I stay tethered to your side for another hour?” 

He scoffs. 

“Just don’t get lost, simpleton.”

To use Clavis’s terminology, the Cheva translation of that would mean: “Go ahead, but if you aren’t back in 10 minutes I will find you and there will be consequences.”

“...Whatever your highness wishes.”

—

You supposed Chevalier already knew that you weren’t going to the bathroom to freshen up, rather instead to find a private area to ruminate at being bested by him once more, and that almost made you even more upset.

It’s stupid that you’re even angry, you know that there's no winning a fight against him. It was already a given that he would twist your words around in an attempt to make you succumb to him, and yet…

You furrow your brow as you turn the corner.

It was all you could do, if you could annoy him, even just a bit then that would be victory enough… 

At least it should be, if you didn’t get carried away with it.

But damn you for having a competitive streak and damn him for pointing out the one idea that would make you sick to your stomach.

(Although, maybe if you thought about it more, you would find it was only his own sick desires taking form in his words.)

“Complacency, my ass.” You mutter, as you push open the door to the library.

Despite this being originally Chevalier’s domain, you’ve also been quite the avid reader, and so any time alone with books was welcome. And even if you weren’t alone… well at least he had the sense not to disturb you, outside of his general presence.

Scanning the room when you enter, you find your eyes catching on the rows of bookshelves before halting when you see the shape of a figure, dimly lit by a candle.

You frown slightly.

While there were no set rules against entering a host’s library, it was still considered bad taste to enter rooms you weren’t explicitly given access to. Not that this person seemed unaware of it, judging by the lofty coat you could make out they seemed to be born into wealth.

Well, you weren’t exactly a shining beacon of manners either, considering that you were ditching your debut ball in order to sulk in the corner of a dark room because your captor/fiancé bested you in a game of wits.

Although, when you put it that way, your life does sound significantly more ridiculous.

You, albeit hesitantly, decide to give the person the benefit of the doubt and approach them to direct them back to the ball.

“Excuse me?” You call out, nearing the figure. “Are you lost?”

They turn around, and it becomes apparent that they’re a man. But not just any man, you realize, as a few more details come to light that have you suddenly freezing in place.

First, the dark crimson eye that gazes upon you while the other hides behind a black eye patch.

Second, the black cane who’s shiny finish glints in the candle light.

And lastly, the golden encrusted emblem, signature of an Obsidianite.

“Oh no, I’m exactly where I need to be.” Gilbert Von Obsidian responds cheerfully.

…

You suddenly have the sense that you’ve, to use words that Chevalier claims are “crude and boorish”, absolutely fucked up.

To be fair to you, you hadn’t been able to see even a glimpse of any foreign princes, much less would you have predicted that the damn Prince of Obsidian was going to be there, or more accurately here, in your lovely library safe space. 

It’s not often that anyone other than Chevalier makes you stumped on what to do these days, but that goes to show how dangerous complacency really is.

“Prince Gilbert.” You finally manage to greet, falling into a practiced curtsey. 

When you pull your head back up, he has an innocuous smile on his face, eyes crinkled slightly.

“No need to lower yourself, (Name) (Last Name), soon enough we’ll be on the same social standing won’t we?”

Oh, of course he knows who you are, couldn’t make it any less difficult for you could he? Still, the provocation (actually, whether he knew it as a provocation or not was a matter to be unseen yet) of your future engagement has you irritated as well as afraid.

“You never know what might happen.” You respond neutrally. “I’d hate to offend because I grew cocky.”

“Cautious, aren’t you?” He questions.

“That’s a good trait to have, although, I can’t say I would’ve thought the woman who tamed the Brutal Beast would be so meek.”

You want to laugh at his attempt at a jab, because he couldn’t be closer to the truth.

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal. 

And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

But even still, you couldn’t help the words that poured out of your mouth.

“I would argue that being meek and being cautious are entirely different, but it must be difficult to understand from your perspective.”

“That so?” He hums. “What’s your view then?”

“That you can’t tell the difference, because for you, someone who has been powerful and feared for so long, there’s hardly any need for subtlety when dealing with others. For people like me, discretion is a necessary tool.”

A tinge of bitterness seeps into your tone as you respond, or maybe it's jealousy; you can’t tell. 

But it’s enough to make Gilbert pause, facing you, seemingly looking at you like he hasn’t seen you before, his eye glinting with something akin to interest. 

Oh.

Shit.

You’ve always had a bad habit of overplaying your hand during your time with Chevalier, possibly because you were so used to a lack of consequences due to his soft spot. It would’ve been better and safer for him to believe you were Chevalier’s little trophy wife and suffer the stab it would take to your ego. 

“...I suppose that “genius’s thinking alike” must be true, for you to be able to make such a succinct assumption about me.” He smiles, this time his eyes glinting with something darker.

“...I wouldn’t go so far as to imply that Prince Gilbert.” You say, desperate in your attempt to backtrack.

“Oh? Cowering now, are we?” He asks, the smile on his face growing more predatory. “And here I thought you’d be more vicious.”

He’s clearly trying to pry at you, to goad you into snapping at him, but you’ve since realized that the playing field had favored him from the start and you’d do better to avoid the trap he’d set for you.

“...I think you have rather high expectations, that you might think of me similar to the company I keep.”

“And you’d be right.” He says, drawing himself closer to you, even more empowering as he draws near, his red eye glistening like the blade of a knife.

You find yourself wanting to run, like the terrified lamb you are in the face of the threatening jaws of the beast in front of you.

But you don’t.

Because these damn beasts are always just toying with you, never daring to go for the killing blow.

He towers over you, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, but you find that you can’t quite summon up the effort to change your expression.

“…”

“…”

Moments pass and his eye widens a bit, seemingly shocked at your lack of expression.

“You aren’t scared, are you?” He states, more as a fact than a question as he pulls himself away to an appropriate distance.

You shrug as if to say you don’t quite care, but you felt like laughing.

The truth is, he’s wrong. 

You’re constantly scared, every single day of your life.

When you wake up, when you go to sleep, you’re filled with horror constantly, terrified by the man who lays beside you. Every move you make is calculated and stuff, made in fear of the blades, not set to cut you, but rather everything you know and love.

Even now you’re scared, not quite by the prospect of death, but by the fact that it doesn’t scare you.

The fact that you would rather accept freedom in the form of being removed from your earthly ties than to live another life being tethered to this life scares you, because you know death is the only way you’ll be safe from him.

It brings you only slight ease that despite his best efforts of chasing perfection, Chevalier still only amounts to a man.

Gilbert’s laugh snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the man in front of you.

“That’s excellent!” He says, toothy grin lighting up his face, eye lighting up like he’s a child who’s found a new toy to play with.

Somewhere deep down you can feel a familiar sense of dread forming in the pit of your stomach that only comes with Chevalier, almost like deja vu.

It shouldn’t surprise you, after all it’s said that the prince of Obsidian is a genius only the likes of Chevalier could rival. It’s the type of gossip you used to absentmindedly listen to while busying yourself walking down the streets.

Still, you’ve survived Chevalier, albeit with your share of scars, you can handle at least one chance meeting with another snobby prince.

“Are you done threatening me then Prince Gilbert? I believe my fiancé is looking for me.” You say, keeping your tone neutral.

He chuckles, that wide, creepily childlike smile still on his face as he hears you speak.

“Of course. Tell Prince Chevalier that I congratulate him on finding such an interesting toy.”

“Of course.” You mimic, turning on your heel to leave. “Perhaps next time we can meet in a more fitting setting rather than the library, Prince Gilbert.”

Petty, yes, but he doesn’t seem affected by the rebuttal you throw his way judging by the small laugh he lets out as you leave.

Toy, huh?

You think, as you find yourself retracing your steps back to the ballroom. 

More fitting than lover that’s for sure, but you doubt even a genius like Gilbert would understand from just a glance that that was the case, rather he meant it in a dismissive manner.

But still, you can’t help the bitter smile that appears on your face at the statement.

Because you would end up back at Chevalier’s side, and either through your expressions or through his own logic system that you couldn’t possibly fathom, he would understand everything that happened. And then, like always, you would end up locked up in a cage while, ironically, the beast who should be locked in there would prowl around, growling at anyone who came close, possessive of his toy.

And the worst part is, even though you could see the path paved for you, leading you to your own demise, you still had to follow it, like written in a story, like fate.

And maybe that’s why you smile instead of frown when you see your beloved captor’s face twist into a look of grim understanding as he sees you again, wordlessly gesturing you to draw nearer with his gaze.

Because ironically enough, the only person even close enough to understanding or even changing your situation was the same breed as the monster that possessed you.

And it’s an amusing thought to you.

But if you could see the expression of a certain dark haired man, thinking almost fondly on your interaction, you wouldn’t find it half as funny.

[gatitties]

Mute: O7. Fight

O1. Flowers / O2. Friends! / O3. Study / O4. Ice-cream / O5. Sick / O6. Locked up / O7. Fight / O8. Friends? / O9. Grateful / 1O. Wishes

@chiyoso

It could be said that nothing was going right that day; you woke up late making your appearance more sloppy and disheveled than usual, you were scolded with the punishment of cleaning several classrooms and you got a low score on an exam. Nothing worse could happen, right? As soon as you left your class you received a message from the girls in the club, they seemed quite worried about you, as if something had happened to you. You reassured them by sending several messages, they told you that someone had entered the area where they planted the flowers without permission, so you ran there quickly.

You didn't even realize that the guys from the team saw you run desperately towards your club and followed you. When you arrived your eyes opened, some plants were destroyed without petals or crushed, the land with fertile soil completely removed causing destruction, the fertilizer scattered all over the place and the most remarkable thing; on the wall was a word written in what looked like red paint.

Monster

Your brow furrowed at the written word. What did that mean? Your companions looked at each other, sighing heavily, they explained that someone had surely entered leaving everything upside down to give a warning, they were not sure but they believed that that person did not like that you were friends with Tendou.

The girls looked behind you to gulp, there were some of the volleyball boys, including Tendou who was looking around the room with narrowed eyes and a weird expression. Seeing this, they told you that it would be better to start collecting tomorrow and that, for today they would only inform the director. When you faced the boys you just lowered your head, gave them a thumbs up to inform them that everything would be fine, they just nodded without much confidence to walk to the convenience store as usual. Right now you were in a corridor together with the redhead buying some snacks, but there was a strange silence, normally he used to talk freely about his things no matter what but he was just quiet.

«Are you okay?»

He looked at you for a few seconds to brush your hair with a vague smile.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

He grabbed his things to go quickly to pay, leaving you a little disconcerted by his behavior, you blinked back to reality, taking advantage of the fact that Eita was passing by, you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, writing quickly.

«Something wrong with Tendou?»

The boy looked at you feeling a little uncomfortable, even so he replied that usually people pick on him or push him away for having that bad appearance, you thanked him with a nod. The time you had spent with Semi was enough for Ushijima and Tendou to reach the entrance of the campus where there were more people who were probably leaving their activities. You ran to catch up with them but tripped over a stone on your way, luckily a boy saved you from kissing the ground.

"Oh, you should be more careful."

He smiled kindly although something inside you told you not to trust him, he seemed familiar to you, maybe he was an honor student in some class you helped with the flower decorations because he seemed to know you. You bowed indicating that you would go to the side of your friends, who watched the scene.

"You shouldn't hang out with that team, they're too weird."

Somewhat disconcerted you looked at him, his friends nodded, you denied wrinkling your eyebrows.

"You are too fragile, we will treat you better."

You denied again, causing a sour expression on the contrary.

"Do you have a problem with our friend?"

Your savior Shirabu intervened, you mentally thanked him for his salty personality right now.

"I don't think it's convenient for you to mess with people older than you, little boy."

"Little boy? At least I'm not as mononeural as you, surely you're in class one, or do you have a poor scholarship?"

Apparently he was right to see how the boy got angry causing an arrogant smile to slide over the setter's features. This action further pissed off the other one who was preparing to hit the second year if it wasn't for a roaring laugh that stopped everyone.

"How nice, Shirabu playing the hero."

The redhead put a hand on your shoulders, giving a vague nod of greeting, earning disapproving looks from the teens.

"Let's go, we don't want to cause problems for old Washijo with fights."

He excused himself to drag you to where the others were but they pulled on your arm strongly, your face hit the chest of the boy who helped you before, your cheeks inadvertently dyed with embarrassment.

"Don't put her in your things, monster."

Tendou narrowed his eyes looking at you, you were starting to get uncomfortable about the situation.

"You should let her go."

His voice sounded deeper than usual.

"Oh yeah? I don't want someone like you to hurt her, she's too helpless."

"Let her go."

"Force me."

From one moment to another you were pushed towards one of the boy's henchmen seeing how they hit Tendou, you didn't even notice when Shirabu pulled you to his side and how Ushijima stopped the fight. You felt bad seeing how they looked at him, how they had treated him and how he did not defend himself despite the blows, you felt his pain and that oppressed your heart. the worst thing is that you couldn't do anything else because they took him to the infirmary, you really felt as if they had hit you instead of him.

[hogans-heroes]

can i ask about the learning curve wip? maybe get a snippet? 😊

Of course! My most beloved wip rn, my chaptered Alex pov. I made a descriptive post about it here and posted a snippet here! (with mini visuals). But I'll give you another longer snippit because I love you and your writing! (Also, as much as I love this fic I've been getting stuck with it lately so am writing other stuff atm. Will get back to it very soon).

Alex’s dad was a psychologist, and boy would he have a field day at Stalag Luft III.

He could practically hear his father’s voice in his head as he watched the guys mill around the camp compound, narrating their actions and picking them apart to gently expose what was inside, for their own good, to study them like wild creatures who in extreme circumstances often reverted back to cavemen, to more raw forms of behavior.

He can’t use his words, his dad would say. Because at some point he tried and tried and tried, and they never worked. “To hell with this,” the brain says, “we’re gonna go back to the basics,” and that’s usually physical expression.

There’s really only two core emotions at the heart of a human. If you keep peeling at the bottom of every action and reaction, every visible emotion, you’ll find either love, or fear. And they’re usually connected. That’s all humans are really made of.

So his dad might have gotten a little philosophical too. At least it gave Alex more thoughts to keep himself busy and not go crazy locked up. It was fun in a way, collecting bits of information and arranging them like a child would blocks. That Bachelor of Science degree in Chemistry and Biology he had earned before the war wouldn’t do him much good if it didn’t at least help keep him alive for the duration. The camp was only a new study he could apply the scientific method to.

So far it had been going well, and every piece fit together in its place. The one thing Alex could not grasp however, that was driving him crazy, was the two majors from the 100th.

Egan and Cleven? Buck and Bucky? John and Gale? Alex wasn't sure what combination of names he should be using or even who was who most of the time, but the names always went together. Not a single person Alex had encountered had ever used the names separately. The way prisoners talked about them, anyone would have thought they were some dual-soul deity the stalag had built a religion around, yet since Alex had been assigned to their barrack room all his careful study of them had only resulted with a handful of pieces that didn’t fit together. Major Gale Cleven “Call me Buck,” with eyes that could pierce your soul like an x-ray and “just” John Egan. Buck, whose impossible gentleness was at odds with his rock-wall presence at the front of his men, and Egan, who treated Alex like a disease though it didn’t seem to be for the usual reasons, he treated everyone that way, walked around with volcanic ash trailing from cracks that Alex wondered if only he could see. What pieces Alex had gathered of the two of them wasn’t the same as what he was hearing from the 100th. The supposed yin-and-yang duo vacillated like a metronome between hostile and devoted and it drove Alex insane.

Pain shot up his leg and he caught himself on Daniels’ outstretched arm, jerking him back to his body moving one foot in front of the other and two comrades beside him, having lost count how many times they had circumnavigated the camp. They were passing their own hut again and this time Buck was sitting on the steps with his nose in a book, his messy hair fallen over his forehead and long fingers clenching the worn cover with more force necessary for a book on native plants of Ireland (Alex had read it the week before). He remained laser focused on the page with a furrow in his brow, scars on his cheeks contrasting sharply with the soft angles of his face, and Alex jumped when Macon knocked him on the arm. 

“Pay attention man,” Macon quipped. “We’re still on for our escape, the last thing we need is for you to adopt some sad-eyed White boy.”

Alex wasn’t sure if he should be insulted, but frowned anyway. “Buck’s my friend,” he retorted. 

“Oh it’s Buck now? That’s a fuckin’ major, man. A squadron commander with more flight hours than actual goddamn birds and you’re calling that Buck?”

“Just don't get too attached,” Daniels interjected. “The less people we trust here the better.”

The image of Buck sitting in the library with his chin on his knees, gentle blue eyes giving undivided attention as Alex explained some fighter plane or science subject made his stomach twist at the suggestion of not trusting him, or even worse, leaving him behind. Alex had spent most of his life being teased for being too soft, too kind, too trusting. He’d gotten himself in a bad spot several times because of that too, so he probably should be more careful, but sue him, he was tired and aching inside and Buck had actually listened. 

[lxdymoon0357]

Can you do hcs for yandere! Unmarried queens? Like yandere! Navier?

(I don't know what to do in this world.....I love this! I missed this.... Yandere! Rashta)

Yandere! Unmarried Queens

(Navier)

❤ Navier met Rashta in the garden and though Rashta greeted her informally and inappropriately, something about the concubine made Navier curious about her, as she invited Rashta to have tea with her.

❤ Navier there asked her if she would like to study etiquettes and learn about how to be a lady, to which Rashta hesitantly agree, Navier immediately who would help Rashta with etiquettes, manners, talking skills and more.

❤ Navier would often find Rashta in the garden with a few of her maids who were given to Rashta by the emperor, Navier went to the emperor to ask if he was truly in love with Rashta, to which the emperor got mad and dismissed her…

❤ Navier would still talk with Rashta and send her tiny and tiny gifts to her as a friendship token and allow her to call Navier “sister” even though she hated that word from Rashta’s mouth, not realizing how she was getting obsessed with Rashta…

❤ Soon all the things with Heinry happened, where Navier then asked if he would allow Navier to reveal a few things about herself, Navier then told Heinry about how Navier liked this lady, not revealing it was Rashta, Heinry promised to her wingman.

❤ Navier was absolutely transfixed on Rashta during the ball seeing her dance and even invited her to dance with her later on in the night seeing her look so pretty, she had the urges to kiss her and take her right then and there, but she couldn’t she is an empress. And Rashta is a concubine.

❤ Navier slowly and slowly had some of her maids planted in as Rashta’s maid, who gave Navier every single information about every motion done by Rashta. They were also very much sure to treat Rashta nicely because if a single cut or a single tear from her eye would result in them wishing they would die.

❤ Navier in all honestly would send her gifts and love letters telling her how she was the most beautiful person in this world, the one who would bring happiness to her face, how she should be the one to rule over them with kindness and all that, but would never send it to her.

❤ Whenever Rashta would do classes with her, Navier would be touching her to show her how it’s supposed to be done and how she should be doing it and how a single thing could completely change the meaning of her gesture.

❤ Navier upon kidnapping Rashta and killing everyone who defied her (Sovieshu/ heinrey/Kosair/others) , she’s hellishly touchy and loving to Rashta, doesn’t care that everyone can see her kiss, hug or love the new second empress of the empire…

❤ Navier wouldn’t ever let anyone see Rashta with their eyes, if they look wrongly at her, she will get their eyes gouged out, don’t worry she will never show anything to Rashta, Rashta rarely ever sees anything, she’s lucky if she even gets to go to the garden of the castle or she gets out of her and Navier’s shared room…

❤ Rashta doesn’t usually see many people other than a few chosen maids, who get changed every day, but she doesn’t mind she’s happy to receive so any gifts from her wife, he one who spoils her and her daughter rotten, RimWell are all dead and Ahn is back with her because Rashta tells Navier of her past on their wedding night…

❤ Navier hates when Rashta disobeys her, but nothing one hard slap from Navier to Rashta can’t solve, Navier’s anger does scare everyone including Rashta, who cries herself to sleep those types of night, but always forgives Navier the next day…

❤ Navier is very adamant on the behavior she accepts from people around her, including Rashta, her punishments aren’t too hard, just enough to engrave a lesson on Rashta’s head. Just some slapping, starving and locking up nothing too bloody

❤ Navier will 100% engrave her name in Rashta’s body somewhere, while she’s knocked out as to stop her from whining, crying, wailing and sobbing so loudly, also to slow down the bloodshed from Navier’s side…

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Chapter I

Excited to finally start! I haven't written in a while so I felt a little rusty, but I still hope I was able to convey the conflicting feelings that come with meeting these creatures ♥ Enjoy! (Please remember that the polls are only active for a day!)

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Violence & Accidental self-harm, Non-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con/killing of animals/near drowning, Long post

"In fact, you don't want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!"

Straining yourself, you tried to hear what the voice was telling you. A sudden waft of nausea overcame you as you concentrated hard on making out those last, vital words. Your eyes snapped open as pressure squeezed your brain inside your skull, and you barely had time to gasp as your body instinctively threw itself to the side, choking and spitting out water from your lungs and stomach.

Through your blurry vision, you could only see gray. Feeling hadn't returned to your hands to notice the little gravel digging into your palm as you clawed at the stone surface, trying to find hold in your disorientation. Slowly, with every cough you made, the pressure on your head subsided, leaving only a pounding headache and your fight or flight instinct in control of your body while you freed yourself of the wretched water inside the spaces it didn't belong. That was until you finally regained the feeling in your body. The pebbles pressing into your skin, threatening to break it.

The hands on your body, holding you steady.

"This was a stupid idea," an eerily familiar voice sighed, the pressure on your stomach and lower back intensifying. Confused and disorientated, you rocked your head from side to side, trying to see. Trying to find the voice that was different from the one you heard before opening your eyes. But your vision was still blurry, and you couldn't make out anything, even with splashes of color passing your view. 

"It's not stupid just because we have never tried it before," someone else, someone you already knew, hissed, and you tried to remember who it was to no avail. A hand on your collarbones, fingers spreading all over your chest, didn't lock your movements but didn't allow you to fall over either, as they kept you slightly elevated. 

"W-Who…" you sputtered, followed by another cough, another spill of water coming from who-knows-where inside you.

"Urgh, well, it's alive, at least…"

Pressure on your ribs made you fall back on your legs, sitting upright. You were swaying back and forth, worse than you ever had on the ship that transported you out on the North Pacific Ocean for your studies… Right… You'd been working out on the ocean, and then something happened. You couldn't get back to the boat, and they didn't do a headcount before leaving. You'd been left there. For how long? Gulping down spit or water—not sure what was in your mouth at that point—you tried to remember, but your memory was as blurred as your vision. 

Did your crew come back? Were they the ones helping you back to your feet? You should thank them. Had they left you at the mercy of the ocean, who knows if you could have made it long. As much as you loved the deep, blue waters, they were just as risky and unpredictable as any other nature-related job. Accidents happened, and you weren't mad you were left behind, but you were still thankful they came back and saved you. 

Slowly, taking the time to adjust yourself, you turned around, the hands allowing you the room to move as you pleased while they stayed ready on standby if you fell. Focusing your eyes was still hard. The space you were in dimly lit and unfamiliar. But when you lifted your head, squinting your eyes as hard as possible, you could finally concentrate on what was ahead of you. 

Instantly, a cold shiver ran down your spine. 

Your fight or flight mode was still intact as you jumped back from your position, your body slamming into a cold and hard wall of something, your headache briefly making space for other pain before returning full force. You didn't know what to expect, but you expected the familiarity of your kind. Human faces, human bodies, humans.

These were not humans.

It needed the extra blow to your head to jump-start your memories. Memories of the little orange boat you had been stranded on, of unknown voices speaking to you, promising the help you desperately needed. Uncanny figures that intrigued you and eventually lured you to the edge, claws that dug into your clothes as they pulled you where the light couldn't reach. A tongue down your throat that helped you breathe and then… darkness. 

That's right, at the cusp between life and death, you had simply passed out, completely at the mercy of these creatures that now reared out of the water, hands and claws reaching for you from all sides. There was no escaping them, no way out, their black skin glistening in the blue light coming from the walls being the only thing discerning them from the shadows around you. All you could do was close your eyes and wish to wake up. Realize this was a bad dream on a dreadful night. Wake up from it, realizing you left the TV on when you fell asleep, subconsciously listening to horror movies. None of this was real. 

But when the hands wrapped around your ankles, wrists, and shoulders, claws too close to your throat to not fear them slicing it open, webbed fingers both sticky and slick, you realized this was not a dream you could wake up from. Not a nightmare to banish once you opened your eyes again. This was reality. 

It took you a moment to regain this clarity of mind, the hands lifting you away from the hard surface you had slammed into and setting you down on something soft, the fabric almost slippery. They wouldn't let go until you opened your eyes, staring at your left hand as you let it slide through the fur beneath you, knowing the feeling well enough to discern it. "Seal…" you muttered, the softness of it astonishing you at that moment. All the horrors your mind could imagine disappeared with the gentleness and warmth you felt around you, sitting on such precious fur. It soothed some of the shock and weariness that kept you tense and on alert.

"The human likes it," someone cooed, the voice giddy as you heard water splashing alongside it. That finally snapped you back to reality and the situation you were in. Gulping once again, at least there was no more water clogging your throat and airways. Realizing that helped to gain the courage to look up, straight ahead at curious eyes watching you, leaning on the ledge you were seated on, giant bodies hidden halfway inside a pool of water. Every jolt of their muscles caused a small wave to splash against the others next to them, but they didn't mind. Why would they? 

Mermaids. 

You remembered it now all too clearly—their voices, faces, actions. Knowing folklore tales as much as any other human but always denying them to your scientifically driven mind, it was almost laughable you fell for their lures, their promises of help. It was true your options were limited, but it felt like you betrayed yourself by still believing them. Then again, that was the whole thing about mermaids, wasn't it? They were able to lure in even the most experienced and resistant of humans at their whim, to kill and eat them. However, dwelling on your idiocy and not concentrating on the situation at hand wasn't going to help you now, either. 

Watching them for a few seconds, you jumped from their faces one after the other. Orcas, they called themselves, and strangely enough, they looked like it. Like a weird mix of a human and an orca, but you could still see both parts in them and discern either part at a glance. The markings in black and white of an orca, the face and body like a human. Muscles just like a professional athlete, but a tail hidden from sight that you were sure would be exactly like that of an orca. They were decorated in adornments that allowed one to believe they had the same aesthetic needs as humans. Still, their sharp teeth lurked behind their lips, and their fingers ended in claws that reminded you there was just as much animal in this mix. 

Looking away was dangerous but necessary, and luckily, as your gaze panned around the room, they only ever seemed to lean further over the edge, trying to see what you saw, before sinking deeper into the cool water again, wary of your gaze falling on them. Either way, you appreciated their discretion, despite hearing their little clicks and whistles at each other echoing through the space. It wasn't a small room, cave-like and branching off into more carved-out areas filled to the brim with things. But if you remembered the size of these creatures right, they'd have to squeeze together if they all wanted to come sit on the same ledge as you. You found the room to be made of hard, solid stone, a blue, bioluminescent shine of a climbing plant with little bulbous blooms on it, illuminating the cave sparsely as it spread on the cave walls. Part of you would have loved to study this growth, but it wasn't the right time. 

Beneath you was the seal fur, and you tried to ignore the gruesome acts you knew orcas did to these creatures, thanking it silently for softening the spot you sat on. But now that you had time to look at the splashes of color from before, you noticed they were fabrics hung from the walls. Sails and flags mingled with more furs. Crates, both wood and metal, some more decayed than others, stood off to the side, but you also spotted some out-of-place items like golden goblets and jewels strewn about. 

"Where… Where are we?" you asked warily, feeling a sense of dread as you couldn't find a discernable exit or connection to the outside, like a window or door. You had a bad feeling about this, but at this point, it came as no surprise that this situation didn't seem to get better even after you accepted this as reality. 

"In our–"

"Home!"

"This is our cave!"

It was a desynchronized answer, but it did the trick. Though that didn't explain where exactly you were, just their connection to this place. Still, scanning the ledge you sat on, you found three sections laid out with fabrics and furs, the stone ground creating gaps between them. Considering the size of these creatures, it might be a squeeze for all of them to fit, but it did look like the three had their beds laid out.

The sound of excessive splashing made your head whip forward, the merman in the middle lifting himself out of the water and on top of the ledge. It was the first good look you got at any of their bodies, and you had been correct with all your assumptions about them. He had to crawl on his hands to get the massive part of his upper tail over the edge, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it looked almost like a natural movement as he put himself in a seated position. You were already cowering backwards, not needing to accommodate the creature, but feeling less safe now that it was out of the water. 

But before you knew it, his hand reached for your ankle. 

The feeling of having to cave in to someone else's demands was terrifying, choking you with fear of the unknown especially considering it was a monster you were dealing with. But even without you trying to scoot away, your leg was painfully stretched as the merman began pulling you back closer toward him. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. You were surprised about the concern he voiced, thinking about how contradictory it was to be given kind thoughts while you felt like prey in their eyes. 

"Yeah…" you mumbled, twisting your ankle carefully, inconspicuously, hoping he might be enticed to let go. Instead, this seemed to have been the magic word, the orca on the right jumping out of the water with much more force and less elegance than the one in the middle, landing belly down on the ledge and immediately reaching for your arm. "Finally!" he rejoiced, squeezing and pulling at your underarm, both actions reckless and painful. Now you had two limbs of yours being yanked, and the gaze you shot the last merman of the three was almost panicked as he sat up on the ledge as well, back facing you, but his eyes on your free left leg. With a careful hand, he let his fingers graze over your skin, jolting away as goosebumps spread in the wake of his touch. 

Their hands were a horror in themselves. Webbed fingers sticking to you and yet sliding up and down your skin, unable to find hold unless pressure was applied. These creatures had no sense of gentleness, probably used to very different forms of touches and holding than a soft, easily breakable human like you needed. Their curiosity was their drive, but it made you feel sick the longer their touch remained. Occasionally, they'd coo or chortle in awe while all you could concentrate on was trying to soothe the sore muscles inside you by adjusting and twisting your body to accommodate their hands.

Even though you were intimidated by just looking at them, fear clawing at you almost as much as their hands did, you decided enough was enough. While they were stronger than you, you had the advantage of knowledge. If they were any bit as much orca as they said they were, they probably had the attitude of their animal counterpart, making them believe they were above everything. But they weren't above the element of surprise. 

So when you were sure they were mesmerized by your meager body compared to theirs—the third merman even back to prodding at your leg after being startled by the goosebumps—you took a deep breath and then pulled. Pulled as hard and fast as you could, very much aware that if they weren't sufficiently distracted, their reflexes would probably have dismembered you. Luckily, you were able to get away even as their claws snapped after you, your eyes meeting that of the middle merman briefly as you scrambled to your feet, backing away until you found a wall to steady you. Your knees were shaking, but after a few milliseconds, the merman suddenly gripped a shoulder of each of the ones next to him, his claws visibly digging into their bodies. The others snapped out of their reflex just barely after the middle one, looking at him instead. 

"No fun," the one on the right groaned, sinking back into the pool of water. "What good is it if we can't play with it?"

His eyes appraised you briefly, a displeased expression weaved onto his face, turning into a snarl when you met his gaze. "I thought you found us interesting, no?"

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, but contrary to what you remembered, no tracker was punched into it; only a gaping hole remained. And yet, you immediately understood what he was trying to say. This was way worse than you thought, as you realized they used their leverage of maybe being able to tell you how to get back to land to make you do what they wanted, no matter what that meant for you. 

"Don't you want to go home?" the merman teased, a smug grin revealing the rows of sharp teeth behind his lips and confirming your realization. It was terrifying but even more so frustrating. Swallowing hard, you tried to find some reasons with the other two, but while one had now fully turned his back to you, the other seemed just as displeased as the one in the water.

"Maybe we should just eat them," the one in the middle pouted. Your mouth almost fell open seeing this creature actively avoiding your eyes, crossing his arms, and pursing his lips in a pout. All just because you refused whatever they were trying to do? How could they not understand that their actions might be wrong? You had never seen a grown man pout in your life, but you couldn't decide if it was worse on this creature or on a man of your own kind. 

"What do you think, Nerrocan?" 

For the first time ever since you met them, you heard one of them being addressed directly. The merman in the middle looked at the one who sat with his back to you, and you took a moment to appraise his form. Broad shoulders, coated with black hairs that reached below the shoulder blades but did nothing to hide the monstrous amount of muscles weaving under his skin. A dorsal fin stuck out from where his human spine must have transitioned to the fish one, and you caught yourself almost reaching out to touch it, confirming the strangeness of this lifeform. It was curiosity more than a reflex, but both were dangerous down here, locked with these strange creatures.  

"Nerrocan…" you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop. Their white ears perked up, glances snapping to you from the corners of their eyes and over their shoulders. They seemed less alert than surprised, but you clasped your hand over your mouth anyway, feeling as if you were the rude one for speaking so casually to someone you didn't know. Slightly embarrassed, you caught Nerrocan's gaze, looking away before he could, but you scolded yourself for the mishap, missing the shine he had in his eyes as you called out to him. 

You expected some reaction. Cruelty packed into words by Nerrocan that would give the other two the 'go' to do what they planned with you. Or maybe a verbal lashing for daring to speak to him. Perhaps even some hope as he held the other's back, making the unknown threat you felt from them disappear. From the looks of it, he was just as fearsome as the others but showed less interest in you than his fellow mermen. It was hard to understand how different lifeforms thought, but you had still hoped to be able to communicate with them on the same level as with any other sane human being, even just for the sake of the similarities between you two. But you were wrong.

Nerrocan said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulders slightly, barely visible in the dark. More than half of his body was coated black, so it was no surprise you couldn't see it move much, only when the blue light shone on it. However, you did catch the glance he threw back over his shoulder at you, and you wondered if he understood the devastation you felt visibly on your face. All hope shattered. 

"Nerrocan, you're so fucking boring. Can't you go along with what we want to do just once?" the merman on the right complained, his words a sharp sound, somewhere between hissing and lilting. 

"Shut up, Lyr," the one in the middle ordered, and for a moment, you could see the merman named Lyr snap his teeth at him like a beast warning another. However, when the middle one lifted his hand—presumably to hit the one on the right— Lyr scooted away and out of reach. Before you knew it, Nerrocan vanished in the water, and you watched as Lyr scanned the pool below him before hissing and slipping out of sight. You had a feeling that something must have been going on that you couldn't see, but you knew better as to go and look where they had gone. 

Especially with one still remaining. 

The merman took a deep breath, breathing out before giving you a—what you could assume was meant as a mood-lifting but came out as a terrifying, mocking—smile. "Look, we don't want to eat you. But we hoped you were a bit more… fun."

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean…" you mumbled, pressing yourself more to the wall as the merman sighed, scooting a bit higher on the ledge and closer to you. 

"Look around you," he directed your attention, gesturing around the cave. "We brought you into our home and made sure you'd survive the dive. Don't you think you owe us something?"

"I didn't ask you–"

"Well, you would have died up there, you know that, right?" His interruption felt like a cold splash of water to your face, but his words hit you even harder. They sat in your stomach like a big stone. One that would sink you if you were left alone in the ocean rather than help you swim. Being demotivated was one thing. But at this point, you were pretty much helpless. You would have died without them but with them… there was no guarantee you would survive these guys, either. 

"Look."

Raising his hands, the merman tried to ease your fear of him—in vain. With a small hopping motion, he elevated himself further towards you, and you, with no place to back up anymore, held your breath. 

"We know humans. You guys are curious and want to know more about us. All of you are. You are always prodding in our territories, trying to find us, and when you do… well. You do this."

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, curling it enough so you could see the red blinking light coming from it. The tracker. You definitely didn't just imagine its existence, and slowly, you let out the breath you were holding, looking him in the eyes. This was more of a conversation than you ever had with any of these guys, and you decided to face it. 

"Humans aren't even that tasty," he noted, assuming your weariness was rooted there. He wasn't entirely wrong. 

"Then what do you want from me."

His grin spread a bit wider at your questions, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge he got you, like a fish drawn to a hook. Inching closer, you barely had time to shift your attention to the two heads that popped out of the water behind him, exchanging glances before directing their focus on you. "You see, we saw humans before. Cute ones—like you! But none would let us explore them a bit. We are oh-so curious about those things you stand on. About your tiny parts and soft body. You're so…"

"Human," you finished his sentence, goosebumps spreading all over your body as you exposed yourself, unwillingly aware of your weakness being your very existence. The merman scanned you with his eyes, almost undressing you with how intensely his gaze burned on your skin. It was an unnerving feeling, one of mutual understanding of how different you were. Weak. Vulnerable. Powerless. Them even communicating their plans was their form of showing mercy. Because if they wanted, they could have easily forced you into it as well.

"Yes," he chortled, seemingly content with you understanding their desire. You couldn't imagine that this was all they'd ask of you, a memory of the voice you heard before waking up in this cave returning to you. 

It hasn't been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate.

You wanted to suppress the implications echoing in these words, hoping and wishing this wasn't what these orcas intended to do with you. You couldn't fear something that hadn't happened yet, or else you might lose the last bit of rationality in you that would get you out of this situation, no matter how much anxiety tried to paint the gruesome pictures of possibilities. But you needed to know. Needed to hear it from them, even if the promise was empty. If you wanted to build any kind of trust, this would be necessary, even if the betrayal would hurt twice as much.

"If I agree will you take me back? Back to this place you know, where I can return to my kind? Promise you won't kill me?"

Nerrocan was the first to return to the ledge after disappearing so abruptly. You hadn't noticed it at first, but when he looked at you, his gaze shifting to your legs for a few seconds before looking back up at you, you noticed the split lip he now had, blood trickling from it as the blue light grazed him. "Promise," he answered for the three of them, gaining a sharp glare from the other two. Lyr, too, came back up on the ledge, merely resting his upper body on the stone and propping himself up with his arm. 

"Aren't you gonna say something when he's undermining you, Krill?" he asked the merman in the middle, and now, finally, you had names for all three of their faces. 

"He won't do it again. Right, Nerrocan?" 

The spoken to let out a huff, but when Krill took a deep breath, Nerrocan opened his mouth, submitting as told, "Of course, Krill."

"Well, now that this is out of the way, shall we begin?" Krill asked, his gaze sticking to Nerrocan for just a moment longer before returning to you. Putting on a calculated smile for you—as if he was trying to imitate human behavior—all you felt was another shiver running down your spine. You braced yourself, getting a grip on your shaking hands by curling them into fists. The faster this was over, the quicker you'd find out if they'd keep their promise. The faster you'd be able to get home and sort out this mess your life was in. 

"Okay…" you whispered. Once again, your word seemed to be the one they had waited for, all of them leaping forward, closing in as you let out a surprised squeak. "Stop!" you yelled, shielding your face with your arms and trying to hide behind them out of fear of the approaching predators. To your surprise, the sound of splashing water and bodies moving ceased. When you pried your eyes open, the mermen had stilled, their muscles barely flinching under the intense tension running through them. Their expression was grim, worse than before, seemingly unimpressed with your reluctance after you gave them the go. It seemed their patience was running thin, but what else were you supposed to do?

"Not all at once… please?" you tried to explain yourself, their bodies remaining still for a moment. Lyr was the first to break the silence, groaning loudly in annoyance as he slipped back. Nerrocan said nothing, merely pulling his hands back to his side. He had come the closest to you—especially your legs—and even Krill put some distance between you two, sighing loudly before driving his hands through his short hair. 

"Choose then," he ordered, and there was no hint of teasing or playfulness left in his voice. His eyes remained wide open, staring as he waited for your answer, his body so tense you were scared he might pop a vein. Krill seemed to be the least amused about all of this, but the dirty looks of the other two were just as chilling and pressuring. "Choose who you want to "play" with first, then."

It was an amicable choice that seemed challenging for the three, but they made it your choice nonetheless. Your eyes dragged over all their faces. Nerrocan, the quiet one of them, who seemed very interested in your legs and not much else. Lyr, who was already back to grinning, his casualness paired with the intensity of his gaze drilling into you, making him seem a little unhinged. And Krill, whose word seemed to stand above the others, but whose words could never make him trustworthy to you. 

You had to choose one before their patience with you would finally run out. 

[loidswife27]

Hiii, so I want to write for Twisted Wonderland but it’ll be my very first time. I already have something in my drafts that I want to upload so if that turns out good, I’ll make other ones too !

Anyway, here you have an Ace x female reader.

There is light cursing in there, but just because the reader and Ace are already very familiar with each other. I’ve never written for Ace before so yeah don’t know if he’s ooc. I tried to depict typical annoying teenage boy who’s crushing behavior because I feel like he’d be the type to pull on a girl’s hair as his love language. Anyway here goes nothing!

Ace Trappola x fem reader

You sigh in relief as you finally lay down on your bed. After a long week of exams and dealing with your friends' tomfoolery, you can finally go to sleep.

Grim was sleeping with Deuce today since the boy told you that the little monster was already asleep in his room after a study session, you just decided to leave him there for this night. You were way too tired to deal with him anyway.

Before you can succumb to the dream world, you hear your window open. Sitting up quickly, you look at the source of the sound in alarm.

"Hey y/n, I'm gonna crash in your room tonight!"

Ace huffs as he pulls himself through the window. You’re momentarily shocked at the sight of your ginger friend breaking into your room, but your expression quickly morphs into one of annoyance.

"I kind of broke a rule, so I need a place to hideout," he chuckles and smiles innocently.

“As if that’s news to me,” you say sarcastically, placing your hands on your hips. “I see you haven’t lost your habit of breaking in like a thief.” Speaking of that, you should really look for a way to up the security system of your dorm, or at least install some new locks.

Ace snickers as he crosses the room and flops down on your bed with a satisfied grin.

"Oh, don't be like that~ Just think of this as an improvised sleepover! We can gossip and tell spooky stories, or--or... " Ace trails off as if he's trying to come up with another idea.

You just raise an eyebrow, looking very unimpressed, waiting for what he’ll say.

He leans up on his hands and turns to you with a cheeky smile, "we could, um, I dunno.... get under the covers together?"

You slap his head when he starts wiggling his eyebrows at you before grabbing a pillow and throwing it on his head.

“I’ll let you take the couch downstairs, pervert. Take that pillow and good night.”

The freshman pouted as he rubs where you slapped him.

"What? It was just a suggestion!"

His mouth suddenly pulls off to the side as he lets out a smug grin.

“Or are you too embarrassed to sleep in the same bed as me ? I bet you secretly want me-“ he’s suddenly cut off by your foot in his stomach as he lets out a pained wheeze.

“Damn, you kick hard,” he whined clutching his stomach with a scrunched up expression.

“And I’ll aim lower next time if you keep being a dumbass.” At your threat, he quickly raises his hands in surrender and gulps, having no problem imagining you do that.

Apparently, he’s not giving up easily -not that you’d expect him to, but you were so tired you actually hoped- the boy’s hands moving about as he tries to get comfortable on your bed.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to sleep on that old, stuffy, couch? C'mon y/n, throw me a bone here!"

You sigh in annoyance, grasping your covers and pulling them close to you.

“Though we’ve never slept in the same bed, since the day I found you on the floor opposite to the couch you were supposed to be sleeping in when I left you, the last time you crashed at my place, I know that you’re a bad sleeper. You’ll probably kick me in my sleep too.”

His smug expression falters and turns into one of indignation as you remind him of his awful sleep habits.

"But I'll be good, I swear! I promise I won't kick you in your sleep. And if I move too much, you can just wake me up or shove me aside."

Ace protests, a bit defensively as he folds his arms across his chest.

You mimic his action and cross your arms over your chest too, staring at him clearly not believing his claims. You figure you’re too tired to argue with him over this so you’ll let it slide this time. “Fine, but just this once. I kinda pity you since you’re so desperate and you’re giving me a headache.”

You just had to sprinkle in this shade at him, which he glared at you for, cutting off his happy smile at your acceptance.

His head falls back on the bed as he sighs in content, smiling smugly. You already regret your decision.

Ace reaches out and starts to playfully poke you in the ribs. "Ahhh, how sweet of you to sacrifice the comfort of your space just for me~"

His tone has a playful, taunting twist, but there is a glint of something else buried deeper underneath. An unspoken request for closeness and intimacy.

You slap his hand away and glare at him. “You literally just said that you would not bother me.” “Did I ?” You deadpan at his innocent expression.

You sigh for what seems like the twentieth time this night and finally lie down, your head hitting the comfy pillow.

Ace laughs and settles himself comfortably at your side. His hand reaches out and taps you on the shoulder, before pulling away.

"What, you don't like my touches now? That's cold, " he teasingly scolds.

Ace props himself up so he is laying down facing you.

You turn your back to him, pulling the covers up mid shoulders. “It’s not too late to kick you out, you know,” you threaten.

Ace lets out a frustrated sigh, a pout forming on his face as he watches you.

"I thought we were gonna spend a fun night together, or at least talk until we fall asleep. Why are you being so cold?"

His hands are folded as if he is hurt by your rejection. Though it's hard to know if it's genuine or the act of someone trying to get his way.

Is he for real right now ?

You stare at him over your shoulder, and you can barely make out his face with the limited light coming from the window before you snap at him.

“Seriously? You thought that you’d turn this into a sleepover? Dude, I don’t even know what time it fucking is and I’m only letting you stay here because you have nowhere else to go. Now that you’re here you’re keen on pissing me off !”

You know you’re being mean right now but you weren’t really in the mood to talk a lot and the last thing you needed was one of the top 3 annoying idiots at the school yapping your braincells away!

"Yeah, I did," Ace responds to your question, frown growing bigger. “Was it so stupid of me?” I wanted to spend some time alone with you… "And really, is that the only reason you're letting me stay here?" he asks, his words laced with unspoken sadness. He looks pretty upset by your words. He thought you didn’t mind his presence after all this time. Dare he even think that he wanted to be wanted by you.

“Ace, I-“ you watch him turn his back to you, moving to the edge of the bed until his feet were dangling, while crossing his arms childishly, letting out a “Hmph!”. He may seem like he’s exaggerating but you know this is how he gets when he’s sad rather than mad at you.

His words and expression resulted in you feeling a growing sense of guilt. You didn’t think he’d actually be that hurt by your attitude. Well, usually you keep up with his banter. Now you feel bad for being so cold towards him when he clearly trusted and valued your friendship to the point that he didn’t hesitate to ask for your help.

You sit up to face him properly.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was acting like a jerk, I know. I think it’s this week’s stress that’s putting me in a foul mood. Still, that’s not an excuse to treat you like shit,” you say softly, watching him perk up slightly, hoping he can hear how sincere you sound.

Little did you know, Ace's face softened at your words. The faintest smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he heard you out.

You smiled in relief as you saw him finally turn around.

After letting out a sigh, Ace nods in understanding.

"It's fine. You're probably tired after a long week of classes, I get it. Crewel wasn’t joking with his “exam week” thing," he replies softly, sounding sympathetic before shuddering at the thought of what they just went through.

Seems like he’s reliving the same stressing memories as you about the tests. You’re pretty sure your teacher is not secretly a sadist that likes watching children cry in front of chemistry equations. And a whole week of tests ? Seriously, what did he expect? You’re just a girl!

Ace’s slight stutter brings you back to the conversation. Wait, stutter ?

"A-and I know I'm kind of a handful and I can get rather annoying... at times…"

Is this his way of apologizing too ?

You raise a brow teasingly. “Only at times? Are you sure?”

Ace lets out a laugh and raises a finger to defend himself.

"Hey, I'm not a total pain in the ass all the time, just a majority of the time!"

His tone is light and the playfulness is back on his face.

He leans into the bed and lets out a content sigh, clearly relieved at the tension that's settled between you two.

“Sure, Ace~” you chuckle slightly. “Well, now that you have my attention what do you want to do?”

Ace pauses and looks at you mischievously with a teasing grin.

"Well it’s only fair we cuddle a bit after all the distress you put me through!”

It's evident he's half-joking, but his tone is laced with a hint of hopefulness. A small blush rises to his cheeks at the thought.

You roll your eyes affectionately, a fond smile on your lips as you open your arms. “Come here, you.”

The boy can't help the bright smile that graces his lips as you open your arms. He immediately scoots closer, letting out a relieved sigh as he pulls you in for a tight hug. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his head into your chest.

Ace closes his eyes for a second, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. He leans back to look into your eyes, smiling wide.

"Thank you," he whispers quietly.

You look down at him feeling your heart skip a bit and, smiling softly, you move your hand to gently play with his hair as you let yourself finally relax. “You’re so clingy~” you whisper teasingly, and in the perfect calm of your bedroom, the sound of your voice and heartbeat is all the boy hears. He can’t help but nuzzle his face more into your chest. “If I died right now, I’d die a happy man,” the ginger haired boy says dazedly. You can’t see his face but you can imagine the stupid grin he probably makes.

You pull at his hair earning a small hiss from him but don’t bother moving from your position, already used to his stupid comments.

“You just wanted an excuse to lay on my boobs, didn’t you, pervert~” you murmur with narrowed eyes.

The sudden mention of your breasts sends Ace into a fit of laughter and you pass it off as another dumb-teenage-boy thing. The color rises to his cheeks but he laughs it off, shaking his head. You’re comfortable enough with each other to not make things weird. Although he wondered if you said stuff like that to the other guys in your friend group. He hoped not.

"They're pretty comfy, but that's totally not the reason I asked to cuddle," he mumbles. He looks into your eyes with a teasing smirk. "I just like to feel your warmth..."

You hum, a lazy smile stretched on your face. “Just messing with ya~”

You start feeling sleepy again, the fatigue finally catching up to you now that you were comfortable with a cute boy in your arms. You yawn and bury your face in his fluffy messy hair.

The freshman chuckles quietly as your tired murmur fills his ears. Though you can tell he's feeling tired too he wants to stay awake to keep talking with you and to enjoy the feeling of your body next to his. He tightens his arms around your waist, shifting so he’s pressing his cheek into your head.

"I wish time froze..." his voice carries a faint murmur as drowsiness washes over him, "So that we could stay like this forever..."

You catch his words in your last effort of trying to stay awake and smile fondly. In other circumstances -ones where you were not holding onto consciousness for dear life- you would have realized the meaning of these words and would have surely reacted otherwise.

“Good night, Ace,” you say instead before finally succumbing to sleep.

Ace smiles softly and presses himself into your body as you fall asleep. Your words echo in his ears as he begins to slip away. He relaxes and takes in your scent as he drifts off into a peaceful slumber next to you.

“Good night, y/n.”

Though your sleepover finished as soon as it started, it could not have been a better ending for Ace as he’s left with the last of his thoughts, an unspoken deeper affection for you.

I love you.

[ninapi]

Save me (Semi Version)

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Premise: Semi never thought he would find love where his insecurities laid deep, he never thought someone so broken could be so full of love, he never thought he needed to feel loved as much, until he met you.

Word Count: 3589

Chapter 1: Where are you?

Your first year of high school ended just as quickly as it started.

Cutting your hair as a sign of liberation, you tackled your new school with strength. When you left home you made sure not to bring any accessories or makeup, not even civilian clothing. All you brought with you were comfortable things to lounge around your room while studying, some chapstick and books. Your mindset was completely different this time around. You didn’t want to be considered the ‘cute girl’ of the class. You didn’t want people bothering you and definitely didn’t want to deal with more abuse. So, from day one you did your best to be recognized by everyone for who you truly were, someone smart, responsible, trustworthy, strong.

All the teachers had their expectations set high for your future, you were a promising and capable young woman, a true Shiratorizawa.

If only you didn’t lock yourself in your room every day and were more social, it’s their only complaint.

You were reluctant to even make friends, patiently waiting for next year when Tobio would be back in your world. However, you ended up making one regardless, a soft-spoken girl sitting two spaces away from yours in class. Everything terrified her and she just reminded you of your old self, thinking how nice would have been to have someone by your side to lighten your burdens. You found out she was also very smart and better than you in your least favorite subject. So she became your friend after a couple of study sessions, naturally.

You can’t say your first year of high school was bad. True, you didn’t leave your dorm, not even during summer break. But you made a friend, and the school was very impressed by your performance.

Your parents would visit you often and you were content with how safe you felt in your dorm. No one around to bully you, no one who would know who you were or what your past was like before coming here.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Finally, the day you’ve been waiting for so long came. The entrance ceremony for the first years.

You waited by the hall where the ceremony was taking place, looking around eagerly for your raven-haired friend. But you couldn’t find him among the herds of new faces.

You went to the boards outside the first year pavilion, hoping to see his name and in which class he was in. But you were too late, they had taken them down already.

And so, the day you were waiting for so long, sucked.

You had an idea; he would definitely be going to the gym after class. The entire reason for him to go to this school being the famous volleyball team.

So, you headed over there once you finished picking up your stuff for the day.

Girls were swarming around the entrance, a view you were already pretty used to by now and it made you nauseous, bringing memories you wished to bury deep inside the confines of your brain.

Opting for a safer option, you wiggled your way in between some foliage trying to look through the tiny windows from the back of the gym. You weren’t trying to be a creep, all you wanted to do was see if he was in there and see if it was or not worth it to wait for the coast to be clear to go in, that was all.

But a stray ball went out of the back and you were spotted by a member of the team who looked incredibly disgusted by how creepy you looked camouflaging yourself in a berry bush, face plastered on the dirty window full of cobwebs.

“Get your ass here right now. You should know girls must stay by the doors. I won’t tolerate this behavior.” Semi grabbed you from the back of the collar of your shirt, like a puppy dog being held by its mother, and threw you inside of the gym, making at the entire team to look at you in confusion. “I caught another member of the Ushiwaka fan club snooping on the back like a creep.” a what? you blinked at him in disbelief, scoffing at the man. “I am no such thing! I just needed to check something!” you grumbled, trying to fix your uniform. “Oh wow, (L/N)-san? Didn’t know my class president was your fan, Ushijima-san. You really have it all, don’t you?” Shirabu chuckled in partial admiration. Ushijima himself was quietly observing the situation, he didn’t know much about all those girls pilling outside, but he's fairly certain he hasn’t seen you around. To this, he remains quiet, holding a ball in between both of his hands, slightly annoyed at the outburst halting his practice time.

“Shirabu-kun? I didn’t know you were in the volleyball team, that could have save me all the troubles….but hey! I’m no one’s fan, I don’t know what you are…OH, Oh my god, Ushijima-san as in Ushijima Wakatoshi from the national team?” you turned around looking for the trophy-man himself.

“See? What did I say? So, the creep was there by the back window, perving on his thighs or something when I found her.” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, “Excuse you? I was not perving on anyone’s thighs, ok? I do know who he is. Who doesn’t? That doesn’t mean I came here to stare at him like a creep in some bushes. I came here looking for someone, but the entrance was full, and crowds of fangirls are terrifying…” the last part came out more like a mumble mess than an actual definite answer, it was clear to them you were no creep, well to everyone but Semi it seemed. “Oh yeah? And who might that be?” quirking an eyebrow, he thinks he’s won. “A first year, Kageyama Tobio. I didn’t see him at the entrance ceremony, but he is a genius setter, his goal was to come to this school to join you, so I just assumed he’d be here.”

A genius setter? This spiked Ushi’s curiosity, not like his team needed any more setters but that would be interesting. So he approached you, the entire team dropping what they were doing just to stare at their captain who never seems interested in anything but practice, “I didn’t hear anything about anyone else joining the team, but you are welcome to sit over there by the towels and wait, maybe he is just running late.” with a short nod, he pointed towards the bench he was referring to, “Thanks. I appreciate you not making fun of me like the rest, I kindda see why you have so many fans.” you smiled up at him before going to sit on the bench quietly as instructed.

To him, it wasn’t big deal. He was interested in this new setter you were talking about, and he was sure you weren’t creeping on him, you didn’t even know he was actually there to begin with, so he didn’t think anything about it. His team though could even write conspiracy theories about this very moment.

A girl was sitting inside of the gym, without being one of their managers. And she was there by captains’ orders. The same captain that can’t distinguish his mother from any other woman in the crowd. This day would go on history books.

Semi on the other hand was upset. Why was he giving you special treatment? They should just kick you out, it was clear to him you were nothing but a creep, but no one would dare to say anything to Ushijima, specially if a girl was involved, this had never happened before, they would never interfere for the worse.

A few balls reached your feet during their practice training, you happily returned them to their respective owner, handed some clean towels to those in need and Mr.clueless captain even gave you a bottle of water, since you were probably tired of waiting by the bench, causing gasps among his peers. The team was becoming quite fond of you in a very short amount of time, an unprecedented day to remember.

But Tobio never came. Did he change his mind? It’s not like he promised he would come to Shiratorizawa, but he was very sure of himself when he said he would. You were losing hope and your face was showing it by now.

It was time to go home and there were still no signs of him yet, seeing your crestfallen expression, Ushi called out one of his newest members, “Goshiki, do you know this Kageyama? Is he in your class?” his deep voice startled you back to reality, making you go up from the bench, staring at the youngster with sparkly eyes, “N-no, sir! I don’t think I’ve even seen his name registered with the rest of the first years.” so he didn’t come this year. You wondered what happened, you lost all your contacts when you desperately changed your number, so it’s not like you could ask him, but seemed like he really wasn’t coming.

With a long sigh, you grabbed your school bag and headed for the entrance, “I’m sorry for all the troubles I caused today, and I also thank you for your kindness.” the last part being directed straight to Ushijima’s eyes, “I’ll be going now!” you turned around and left for your dorm. Even without Kageyama you’d be just fine. You missed your friend, you wondered how he was doing, worried he would still be having a hard time with the fellow volleyball players. But you were fine, maybe one day you’d see him again.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Friday came around and everyone in the team noticed their captain glancing at the entrance every now and then. They knew what was going on even if he didn’t know what had him so restless.

Tendo who clearly knew what was bothering his teammate tried his luck, “Hey, Shirabu. Do you know if your class president was able to find her setter friend?” both Ushijima and Semi’s eyes were on the younger setter, making him uncomfortable. “We don’t really talk, so I wouldn’t know.” the air just got even more tense, Tendo regretting his decisions.

Ushi had failed three spikes in a row and the team was now more annoyed than anything else. “I’ll be right back.” being benched gave him a lot of free time, and he just knew what the problem was, he needed to do something or he wouldn’t be allowed in the court to practice today at this rate.

You joined the gardening club as the school was forcing second years to join any club of their interest, this being part of their school norm. Not like you had a strong passion for plants, but it was a relaxing way to spend your afternoons. There were only other three members in it, and they all had their own side projects. You decided to study seasonal plants, taking care of them all during the entire year to see how they looked like when they weren’t in bloom, right now you were taking care of some hyacinths, adding some nutrients to the soil when a familiar face spotted you crouching down by a large flowerbed.

“Come with me.” It’s all he said, holding your arm tighter that you would like. You were going to retaliate but decided against it, wondering what he could possibly want with you. Even with his death grip you could see some softness on the way he was looking at you, sadness possibly. “Are you ok?” he blinked at you wondering what could have caused such a random question, “Why do you care?” you hummed quietly, looking ahead, your eyes distant, “I don’t even know your name, but if you ever need to talk to someone, you know where to find me.” a small smile fully in display for him, making him fluster, “Yeah, playing with dirt.” his side comment made you laugh, the sad look on his eyes leaving momentarily.

He brought you into the gym with him, the rest of the team starring at your disheveled self. Dirt was covering your P.E uniform, a small shovel in one of your hands. Nobody dared to say anything at all.

“Alright she’s here now. Happy?” letting go of your arm, Semi goes to pick up some of the discarded balls laying around, making himself useful. “Um, hi guys.” your nervous little laugh and wave felt like someone had kicked Ushijima on his balls. His chest tightened in an awkward way and he got to the conclusion that he probably jumped too high and pulled a muscle, that had to be it.

“So, class president. Seems like our team here is very interested in your personal life. They wanted to know if you found your friend the other day.” you didn’t really like Shirabu, his snob comments always annoyed the hell out of you in class, his sourness becoming infectious. “My name is (Y/N), not class president. Not sure why you need to know this, but no, seems like he went to another school.” having all these men staring at you was making you feel anxious, you brushed hair out of your face with your dirty hands, forgetting what you were doing just a few minutes ago with them.

Some unknown force was controlling Ushijima’s body. He doesn’t know why, or how, but he was now standing in front of you, wiping some dirt out of your cheek with his thumb. The rest of the team now blurring in the background. What was that?

Semi, was even more annoyed than usual, was that what was going on here? He suddenly hated himself for being so self-indulgent, if he would have known this is what it was about he wouldn’t have gone to get you, even if that meant loosing practice for a day. It was strange how he despised you the day he met you but with just one sentence you managed to go through his steel barrier easily.

“Alright, your questions were answered. If you excuse us, I gotta return the little gardening mouse to her club.” ignoring Ushijima’s piercing gaze, he grabbed your wrist, a lot gentler this time, pulling you along. You waved at the rest of the team with your shovel, smiling on Ushijima’s direction. The sandwich he had for lunch suddenly wanting to come out, was he sick? Was that why he’s been so off? Not like some random bug would stop him from practicing though. He didn’t miss again during the entire practice, but he could swear he was definitely sick and would have to stop by the pharmacy on his way home.

“What was that about?” you asked Semi, who was letting go of your wrist now but still walking with you, “Don’t know. I guess they all liked you. Our managers don’t really interact much with us, so they were probably missing your attention.” he nodded fully aware that all they wanted was to help their captain understand what being a teenager felt like, this piece of information was definitely not necessary for your survival so he decided to keep it to himself.

“So…what’s your name?” you tilted your head while looking at him, holding both of your hands behind your back. “Semi Eita. Third year. Former setter of the team, now I’m more like a pinch server.” you hummed in acknowledgement, carefully looking how his expression turned darker at the last remark. “(L/N Y/N), second year, president of my class and member of the gardening club.” you poked his belly with your tiny shovel hoping to sway his mood just a bit. “More like a gardening mouse, if you ask me.” giggling, you stopped walking, your flower bed now just a few steps away. “Just so you know, I saw you practice the other day, I think you’re better than Shirabu, he stinks.” you gagged playfully, waving him goodbye.

Was he that obvious? How did you notice that’s what has been bothering him?

He went back to the gym, the ghost of a small smile gracing his face. Even if he wasn’t needed for practice every day, he always attended, always stayed late, he missed the days he was the main setter, when he still felt like an important part of the team, when he felt wanted. But he was almost an adult now, he had to move on, not like he wanted to continue playing after school anyways.

It felt good though, hearing someone say that about him, even if it was just to cheer him up.

When he got back the entire team ganged on him, Tendo on his face screaming within seconds, “WHY, just WHY would you take her away when Ushi was looking so dreamily at her? Have you ever seen that face on him before?” Semi just shrugged them off, grabbing a ball and heading to the nearest wall to practice on his own, “Not like that's my problem. I took her away from her club activities, had to give her back.” he knew he was being selfish, childish even, without a good reason, but he also had the right to do so. He also had the right to be looked at, even when a brighter star was shining way too close.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“So how are the flowers coming along?” he was crouching beside you, it was lunch time and he saw you were tending the plants instead of eating, he's been doing that for the last couple of months, just finding you in random places and spending some unannounced time with you, “Well, you see this little stem right here?” he was leaning in closer, definitely in your personal space right now, “This means its alive! They will come out pretty soon. Last week it was way tinier.” you smiled proudly, scratching your nose and leaving a trail of dirt on it. “You seriously gotta stop touching your face when your hands are this dirty, (Y/N).” he took his handkerchief out, gently wiping the dirt away. Your smile just grew turning sheepish, cheeks rosy, kissed by the sun. His heart was beating louder today, he noticed it would do the same every time you’d talk to him. “I know, I know! Maybe I just like it when you clean my face.” you poked out your tongue playfully at him, patting your uniform clean as you got up.

“You look a little less constipated lately. What are you not telling me?” you teased him while packing your gardening tools in the nearby shed. “Nothing, really. I wasn’t constipated to begin with, if I may add.” chuckling you made your way to a secluded area under the shadow of a big tree, your favorite place on the school grounds and he sat down with you on the soft grass, bringing the sandwich he got from the cafeteria out, looking at your neat bento box, full of delicious looking goods. “Do you make your own lunch? Looks like something you’d buy from a fancy shop.” he made you laugh once more, it happens a lot lately, felt weird at first, but you’re getting used to it again, the burn on your cheeks, the flutter of your tummy, you thought you would never feel like this again. “I make it, yeah. I live here, in the school dorms. Can’t really go out…” that distant look in your eyes have been hunting him for a while now, he wanted to know what was making you look this sad and lost “Why’s that?” you didn’t want to answer his question, so you grabbed some omelet with your tiny fork and pushed it in his mouth, trying to distract him. And it did. To anyone walking by you both looked like any lovey-dovey couple, feeding each other and laughing in a secluded area where eyes don’t pry often. “Ok, so this is delicious, but you won’t get away so easily. Why can’t you go out, (Y/N)?” the serious look on his face made you feel guilty, you wanted him to open up to you, so it was only fair that you did the same. “I…my ex, he….” looking down, you lost your words, speaking of him was somewhat a taboo for you. “Hey, look at me.” he lifted your chin gently, a frown now visible on his face, “Did he hurt you?” you nodded just a bit, your eyes not wanting to meet his.

His blood was boiling, he really didn’t understand violent men. He was angry all the time too, but not because of that he went out and about hitting women.

“He….just wouldn’t leave me alone even after breaking up with him. Always calling me and texting me nasty things. So instead of going to Seijoh, where he is, I came here. You can say it. I know I’m running away, but I just couldn’t bare it anymore…” he felt a drop running down the hand that was holding your small delicate face. “That’s not running away, (Y/N). Safety comes first. But I won’t let that bastard hurt you again. If you ever feel like you would like to go out of the school one day you can tell me, I’ll go with you. We can start small, maybe go to the café around the corner?” you couldn’t stop your own tears, you didn’t want to go out of the school, you were honestly still terrified, wouldn’t even venture near the entrance, full of irrational fear, but his invitation made your heart feel so full. He was trying his best to liberate you from the chains that you put yourself in.

Without thinking much, you hugged him from the side, burring your crying face on one of his pecs. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he let you cry. No words were needed, he would give you all the time in the world, even he had to miss a class or two. You looked so happy all the time, so full of life, he never expected you to have such a troublesome past at such a young age. He could relate to the fear and anxiety that you felt, even if his reasons were completely different, he felt like he could understand what you were going through, and he knew how awful all of that felt.

Once you stopped crying, he stuffed his sandwich on your face, startling you. “Not as good as your omelet, but you gotta eat something before next class starts.” biting a corner of his sandwich, you brushed your tears away, gifting him an adoring smile, “Only if you eat some of it too.”

The two of you finished both the sandwich and your lunch, sitting under the shade, talking about random nonsense while skipping class, his chest becoming your favorite place for the rest of the day.

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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf, @lauraagrace

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