#they were. not supposed to live this long.

[daycourtofficial]

His shadows know

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.8k | Warnings: none

Summary: His shadows knew you were mates before either of you did and they do everything they can to push the two of you together.

Author’s note: happy 2k kick off day!!! 🎉 this is actually the oldest draft I have - I began writing this in October I think? I loved the idea but got stuck for so long on where to take it so shout out to @tsunami-of-tears for reading it and giving me feedback - this story would be lost to time without you thank you thank you thank you

Being a scholar in the Winter Court had several perks - your home had a rich and deep history, you spent most of your time reading, and you became great friends with your High Lord and newly appointed High Lady - Kallias and Viviane. Your friendship had great perks, one of which was their allowance for you to travel with them to the Night Court. 

Rhysand had spent centuries keeping up the appearance that it was a terrible place to live, that the people were terrible, everything was terrible, leading to none of the high lords ever spending time in the Night Court. After Velaris became known to the other high lords, Viviane wrote immediately to Mor asking for the chance to see the city of starlight. Mor immediately agreed, also requesting for you to come as well. You and Mor were friendly, but she liked you and knew you would love the city.

The three of you winnowed together, being greeted by Rhys, Feyre, and Mor upon your arrival. After some pleasantries, Kallias and Rhysand started speaking about some political matter, so you slipped out and started wandering around the palace, admiring the beautiful architecture and paintings lining the walls. Many portraits hung in front of you - some depicting battles, some depicting members of the royal family. 

You were stopped at a beautiful portrait of their newest addition, Nyx, when you felt a little tug on your arm. You looked down to find the cutest little blob of darkness dancing around your arm. It tickled as it swirled and skittered across your skin. The little shadow made the rounds around your body, swirling around your arms, your waist, your legs - as if it was checking to make sure everything’s okay.

“You are adorable” you whispered to it, when a second and third one appeared. “How many of you are there?” You whispered, unsure if it can even respond.

“There’s no keeping count of them. Or keeping track of them, I suppose.”

The voice startles you and the shadows, who wrap around you, almost trying to guide you to the voice. You turn to see the most devastatingly beautiful male you’ve ever seen - dark, sun-kissed skin covered large muscular arms, massive membranous wings behind him. Light poured behind him allowing the wings to look almost pink from the stretched skin, but everywhere else behind him was cloaked in shadows that moved lazily, slithering across his shoulders.

Hazel eyes look down at you, a smirk on his face.

“Are you in charge of them, I suppose?” You ask, a smile grazing your lips.

“I wouldn’t say that. They don’t always listen to me. They seem to like you, though.”

While you were speaking, a few more joined to inspect you, fast blurs of darkness roaming your skin leaving goosebumps in their cold wake.

“Hmm, maybe they see me as a threat. I can be quite frightening, you know.”

“Frightening? Yes, I can see you’re trying to pinpoint your next target. Unfortunately, I do believe you are wasting your time. Studying Nyx’s portrait won’t help you determine his weaknesses.”

“I’ve actually uncovered quite a lot about his weaknesses from his portrait.”

“Pray tell,” he leans against the wall, studying your face.

“I think his weaknesses include both nap time and bed time, along with his incredibly short legs. Dare I say, he’d be very easy to pick up and maneuver.”

“Unfortunately, you’ve picked a target that is so heavily protected you may never get the chance to see him.”

Your face lights up in delight, “so I am a frightening threat? Why else go through the trouble to hide him from me?”

“Nyx doesn’t like strangers,” his tone was so matter of fact, the shadows peered over his shoulders to watch the exchange.

“Hmm, you could introduce us. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”

“Unfortunately for you, I believe he is napping. And disturbing him from a nap is the worst part of my job.”

“So it is part of your job to wake him up?”

“I have to train him against all these frightening threats that wander the halls.”

“I only see one frightening threat.”

The shadows began dancing between you two, pulling you both closer and closer, until you realized you could put your hand out and touch his face. Your fingers twitched slightly at the intrusive thought.

“And does this frightening threat have a name.”

“Y/n.”

He smiles at your name - you assume he already knew who you were, he just wanted you to say it for whatever reason.

“And does the one who has the terrifying job of waking Nyx have a name?”

“Azriel.”

“And you also aren’t in charge of the shadows, but you provide them with suggestions?”

He laughs as he says, “They usually listen to me, especially when I command them, but sometimes they just find something they like and want to investigate.”

“Is that what happened? They wanted to investigate me?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Did they like what they found out in their investigation?”

“Sometimes they investigate pretty things or things they’ve never seen before. They won’t tell me why they came after you, but they tell me they like you.”

“Can you tell them that I like them? Or can they hear me when I talk to them?”

“They can hear you, you just can’t really hear them.”

“They’re very beautiful.” You were talking about the shadows, of course. Definitely not also about the male in front of you.

“Yes they are.” He says, gazing into your eyes, perhaps speaking about more than just the shadows.

The spell between your shared gaze is broken when a door opens and Mor comes running down the hall. “Oh, good, Az found you. We thought you got lost somewhere,” she sounded out of breath, as if she were roaming the halls for you.

“I’m sorry, Mor, you know I love to wander.” You look at Azriel, his hazel eyes meeting your gaze. “You never know what you’ll find.”

-

It had been a long day. Velaris was stunning, a beautiful gem in an otherwise terrifying sounding court, but you desperately need a warm bath and a few moments of peace. You adored Viviane and Kallias, but you needed to be away from him for a few hours. You needed peace and quiet.

And maybe a few moments to think about the beautiful male you were flirting with earlier.

You prepared yourself a bath, lowering your entire body into the warm water. You tilt your head back, enjoying the warmth on your aching muscles from walking around the palace all day, when you see out of the corner of your eye a tiny little shadow.

“Hello, sweetie,” you coo towards it. You can’t help it - they’re absolutely adorable. They remind you of little pets, but less messy or noisy. One or two of them had followed you around during the day. You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed or not, especially because you didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.

The shadow came to the edge of the bathtub, climbing up your arm, nestling into your hair. “You are a silly little thing aren’t you?” You ask it, with no response. “Will you ever speak to me?” You ask, again with no response. “Will you keep me company?” The shadow didn’t necessarily respond, but you felt the shadow’s agreement as it nestled further into your hair as you sank into the bath once more.

After your bath, with the shadow still keeping you company, you put on a nightgown and decided you wanted to go down to the kitchen to look for some cookies, certain that Rhysand would only have the highest quality of late night snacks. You reiterate your thoughts to the shadow, when the shadow holds you back by your wrist for a moment.

“Is everything alright?” The shadow keeps a hold on you, not letting you go. A moment or two passes, and the shadow lets go, causing you to move forward a little. “I can go now?” You ask, which the shadow ignores again, but doesn’t keep you in place any longer. You walk to the door, opening it only to collide directly into someone.

“I’m so sorry I-“ you’re cut off by the laugh of the beautiful Azriel.

“It’s okay,” he says, and you take this opportunity to glance down and you realize he’s wearing a loose pair of trousers with no shirt on. His bare chest was just as beautiful as the rest of him - black ink trailed across his shoulders in an abstract way that your eyes lingered on. If you weren’t so preoccupied by checking him out, you might have noticed the shadows surrounding him, trying to slow him down.

A small blush creeps down your cheeks as you ask, “is your uh tiny general happy and napping?”

He smirks and says “well I’m not sure about how happy he is, but Cassian is definitely asleep. He’s kept on a separate floor because of how loud he snores.”

You hit him in the chest, “you know I wasn’t talking about - wait he sleeps on a different floor? Is it really that bad?”

He motions for you to follow him up the stairs, and before you’re even halfway up, you hear impossibly loud snoring. “Oh,” you giggle, “yeah I’m not sure how anyone sleeps in the same city block as him.”

“You have no idea. Cassian’s really susceptible to pollen, so during the spring time it’s absolutely ridiculous. We once banned him for a week so we could all sleep.”

You laugh, and then try to shush yourself so he doesn’t wake up. “Stop - if I laugh I’ll wake him up.”

“What are you doing up?” He asks, his hazel eyes looking down at you with such fondness you wanted to curl up in his gaze and rest in it for a while.

“Oh I wanted cookies, actually.” You reply. “Why are you awake?”

He stammers a little, not wanting you to know that he was walking by your door to see if you were still awake. He had wanted to see you again, your earlier encounter occupying his thoughts all day long, when he assumed you had turned in for the night.

“Uh, I was doing a patrol.” He settled on.

“Oh yeah? Wanted to make sure the terrifying threat was contained?”

He smirked, “what do you think I’m doing now? I figure if I feed the threat, it might spare me.” He gives you the sweetest looking puppy dog face, and you have no idea where it came from, but it absolutely melts your heart.

“Stop that!” you say, while hitting his chest.

“Stop what?” He says, continuing his pouting.

“You look like a sad puppy dog, stop!”

“Will it make the frightening threat not want to kill me?”

“Hmm, the frightening threat will leave you be, for now.”

You two head into the kitchen, and he immediately starts searching through cupboards.

“Mor and Cassian have the best cookies,” he says, while reaching the higher shelves to pull out random boxes that contain cookie tins.

“I didn’t know being a spymaster included knowing everyone’s taste in cookies.” 

“You never know what might become necessary information.”

He looked down at you, offering you a cookie. You accepted it, and as your hands were connected by the cookie, a few shadows danced around your arms to some unheard song. He seemed a little surprised at them, his mouth dropping just slightly.

“Are they always this kind to night court guests?” You asked, nibbling on the cookie.

“Only the pretty ones.”

“And do you always flirt with night court guests?”

He leaned in closer, “only the pretty ones.”

You took a step closer, until you’re almost touching noses.

“And do you always commit crimes with your guests?”

His breath was fanning your face. It smelled of sugar cookie and mint, and you think about what it would feel like to inhale him.

“Only you.”

He pulled out a cookie and offered it to your mouth, which you happily accepted. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the cookie with your mouth, pulling it from his fingers.

“I can’t say I’ve indulged in criminal activity with anyone else.”

His grin grows as you bite into the cookie, a few crumbs falling but a few shadows swoop down to catch them before depositing them in the trash.

“Good. I am in charge of catching criminals in the night court, and I’d hate to have to catch you and lock you up.”

A blush spread over your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond, when Azriel straightened, his wings going rigid.

“Hide the evidence.” He whispered, as he pulled back and quietly put the cookies away back where they came from. Before you can ask him about the abrupt change, you hear loud footsteps coming down the stairs into the kitchen, before seeing Cassian appear.

He looked at the two of you, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. Now he was hoping the two of you wouldn’t stay too long so he could reach his secret stash of cookies.

-

During the afternoon the next day, your little shadow companion kept following you around, almost acting as a guide dog. When you came down for breakfast, it guided you into the seat next to where Azriel was sitting, even guiding your hand to grab an apple at the same time as him, causing your fingers to brush against each other. 

Currently the shadow was dragging you through the hallways of the house, into what appeared to be a massive library. It guided you to sit in a chair at a table where there seemed to be some paperwork piled on top. The shadow left you for a moment, returning with a book for you.

“Ah, thank you,” you say, petting at the shadow. It curled around your finger in reciprocation before slithering back into your hair. You began reading the book, only getting a chapter in when someone sat across the table from you.

“The threat has found where I liked to do work,” Azriel stated, looking through his papers. You smiled up at him, “I have to be prepared to strike at any moment, you know.”

He chuckled, a soft look on his face. “Well, if you plan to attack in the library, please try to keep noise levels to a minimum, Clotho gets very upset when I cause too much noise. I’m on thin ice with her.”

“Oh, I see. You have a reputation for hosting parties down here,” you muse.

He looks at you, a lazy grin on his face, “my parties are known across Prythian, only the best, most exclusive guests may attend my library events.”

“And am I on the guest list?” You ask, leaning against the table. “Of course,” he replied, leaning towards you over the table, “you might be a threat, but I’ve heard you’re one hell of a dancer.”

You laugh loudly, then remember where you are and try to quiet down. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lousy dancer, but I would be very interested in attending one of your parties anyway.”

-

The longer you stayed, the more the shadows kept maneuvering around you. Instead of just one you now had a small trio who accompanied you everywhere, hiding in your hair, wisping around your neck and wrists like jewelry when you were alone.

One night at dinner, you’re seated next to Azriel for the fourth evening in a row. You’re not sure if any of his family members pick up on this, but Kallias and Viviane also sit in the same place each night, so perhaps it wasn’t anything noteworthy.

“Can you pass me the potatoes please?”

You knew if you turned to the right, Azriel’s face would be right next to yours and your noses would be able to touch.

“Of course, can’t give you any reason not to trust me.” You winked at him, reaching over for the potatoes. When you turn back, Azriel’s expression has changed ever so slightly, and his eyes search for your face, something you can’t quite pinpoint in his eyes.

“Here you are,” you say, moving the bowl towards him.

“Here I am,” he says, not reaching for the bowl, instead keeping his gaze fixed on you. You laugh, expecting there to be some joke, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you and you find it impossible to breathe with the way he’s looking at you.

Surely someone else notices the way you two are locked in this embrace, but when you quickly glance around the table, no one seems to notice or care.

He reached for the potatoes and looked at them. “How can I be sure you didn’t poison these?”

You laugh, the spell of the moment gone, and you’re able to think properly again.

“I guess you’ll never know.”

He placed the bowl down, smirking. “Better not take any chances then.”

The rest of the dinner continued, everyone amused at Nyx’s babbling and insistence of sitting in Cassian’s lap despite how many times he’s put back into his own high chair, and yet your eyes kept finding those potatoes Azriel never ate, the bowl untouched since he took it from your hands.

-

A quick knock to your door the next morning stops you from packing, and you stride over to open it. “Hi, Azriel,” you say, leaving the door open for him to come in as you turn back around to put your folded clothes away. Several of his shadows move towards you, trying to unfold your clothes when you aren't looking.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, shutting the door behind him gently, turning back to you with his hands in his pockets. You swat at the shadows, refolding their undoing.

“Unfortunately, my trip always had an expiration date attached to it.”

You breathe deeply, trying to ignore how good he smells when you feel him come up behind you, his chest close enough that you can feel his body heat through your clothes. From behind you, he lifts one of his hands up, almost touching you, but not quite getting far enough before retracting his hand.

He clears his throat, “what did you think of my home court?”

You smile, doing the latches on your luggage. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you get all four seasons here?”

He nods his head in agreement when you turn to face him, not noticing the shadows behind you undoing the latches to your suitcase and unpacking once more for you. “That must be nice,” you muse, “I love Winter, but I am quite tired of the cold.”

“I’m used to the cold, growing up in the mountains you grow quite accustomed to it.”

“Then you’d feel comfortable visiting me in the Winter Court?”

Azriel’s ears reddened at the brazen ask, “I can’t imagine visiting you anywhere and not feeling at ease.”

It was your turn for your ears to redden, but Azriel doesn’t let the silence linger for long. 

“Before you go, can I tell you something?”

Surprise overcomes your face, intrigued by his question. You nod, desperate to know what he has to say before you leave. He looked behind you, watching his shadows unpack your bag and put your clothes back where they had come from in the drawers.

“I was very drawn to you when we first met.”

He clears his throat, his wings twitching with nerves. “I was literally dragged to you. I was winnowing elsewhere, but my shadows brought me next to you. I was intrigued why they’d do such a thing,” one of the offending shadows gently passes over his cheek before making its way to greet you.

“They’re funny little things. I thought they were just annoyed with me because I wasn’t sleeping. And then you spoke to me. You were so relaxed with me, immediately. It’s not- most fae aren’t relaxed around me. And I really liked you.”

“I like you too, Azriel.”

He holds up a hand, silently telling you he’s not quite finished. You hold your hands up in mock surrender, allowing him to continue.

“And then you were everywhere. In the hallway, next to me at meals, on the balconies when I landed. It’s like you knew where I’d be.

“Last night at dinner, when I asked you for the potatoes.. I didn’t eat them after you gave them to me.”

You cock your head to the side, confused at this admission over something as minor as potatoes. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, no. I just- I just- the second you were about to hand them to me, I felt it.”

“You felt it?” Confusion coursed through you, completely unsure of where he was going. You enunciated each word, curious over what ‘it’ was.

“I felt it.” His tone held more conviction, but you weren’t any less confused by what he was talking about.

“What did you feel?”

“This.” And you felt a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you towards him, almost knocking you off of your feet. You gasp, holding your arms out to steady yourself, your hands meeting his chest instead.

“That- what- I-“ you look around frantically, unsure exactly of what that was. You look up, finding soft, slight amusement in his hazel eyes. Shadows swarmed around the two of you, circling your arms, your legs, your fingers. They seemed to be saying something, and you closed your eyes to listen.

Mate. Mate. Mate. 

You close your eyes, looking deep into your chest, searching for that rope, that tether between your souls. It was shadow and ice, wrapped around each other for as far as you could see.

You gave it a sharp tug, and it was Azriel’s turn to lurch forward. You laugh at his stumbling, holding his elbows to keep him steady.

“Is your offer still valid - for me to visit you in Winter?”

“Only if I can come visit you here, mate.”

Azriel’s knees nearly gave out at the name, the title he’s wanted for centuries. And here you were, right in front of him. 

His hand moved hesitantly toward your face, lingering close enough that you could feel the chill from his hand. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him. This beautiful, kind male was your mate.

You had known him for four days - you hardly knew him, hardly knew anything about him or his homeland. But that was okay. You knew his shadows well enough by now.

They were a pretty good judge of character.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading! 💕

[lyssasdrafts]

unrequited love — azriel x reader

description: you’ve always gravitated towards azriel, suspecting him to be your mate. however, he might be too closed off for one to realize.

includes: angst, unrequited love, rejected mating bond, cassian being your wingman

let me know if i should write a part two with a happy ending 🤭🤭

(part two)

you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

azriel, who was cold and intimidating. azriel, who you were supposed to be scared of. azriel, who does unspeakable things for a living. azriel, who was so beautiful to you.

you could barely find it within yourself to hold his gaze. the coldness in his eyes that softened when he looked at you, those sparring glances and longing gazes. it was so easy for you to distract yourself whenever his hazel eyes watched you. azriel rarely smiled, but those rare moments you heard his laughter made your heart stop. his laugh compelled your heart, tugging on a string in your chest that you’ve never felt before. it was the way his lips curled and he threw his head back, the way the wind blew his hair as you watched him fly, the way you’d felt drawn to him like it was magnetic.

there was something about his beauty that struck you. it was the subtle way his shadows danced around you and called to him. how badly you wanted to know the thoughts behind his tired eyes when he looked to the ground. how his scars and battle wounds stuck out to you, making you want to hear his stories. you avoided looking at his lips because your first thought would always be to pull him closer. you wanted to trace your fingers along the outline of his figure, you wanted to hold his shoulders and wake up in his embrace.

more often that you’d like to admit, you thought of azriel when you closed your eyes at night and still couldn’t sleep. you stared at the darkness and wondered what he would be doing right now.

perhaps it was love at first sight. this wasn’t the kind of attraction that felt like an explosion; no, it started with a spark. it was fleeting, just like those moments you had with him, and it lingered. it lingered the way a poison makes its way through your body, killing you slowly. it lingered the way a bruise could only heal overtime, yet it still hurt in the smallest ways and left a mark.

but perhaps you would never heal.

you suspected azriel was your mate after the first time you saw him. from the longing that consumed you, to the plaguing thoughts of azriel refusing to leave your mind, to the spark in your chest.

perhaps he would notice it too.

but he never did. everyday, azriel showed you a new face of indifference. if there was ever a chance for you to be left alone with him, he avoided that opportunity.

a part of you told yourself that he was just scared. he didn’t like to open himself up to others, and he barely even knew you. but perhaps if you’d been patient with him and stuck around longer, he would realize. he had to realize, right? there was no possible way he couldn’t feel your pining through the mating bond, he couldn’t sense the attraction in your eyes when you glanced at him.

for now, you would keep your distance. you would give him space. but sooner or later, you needed to talk to your mate. you needed to confront azriel.

you had always confided in cassian about your feelings for his brother. besides the fact that he knew azriel better than anyone else, he was one of your closest friends. cassian had laughed at first, not believing that anyone could be attracted to his friend who was so cold and distant towards everyone. but cassian had been wrong.

after some pleading on your end, cassian decided that he would help you talk to azriel. you could have a more personal conversation with someone that azriel was already comfortable with. you wanted to know more about azriel other than your previous small talk and mission reports. you hadn’t planned on confessing your feelings or revealing too much, you just wanted to see how azriel would act around you.

it’s a shame that cassian isn’t good at being subtle. first, he brings you over to azriel and formally introduces the two of you. azriel blinks, as if he hadn’t already known who you were. but then you notice how he’d laughed at one of your jokes and figured there might be something there.

“any plans for tonight?” cassian breaks any feelings of awkwardness for you. if you had spoken to azriel alone, you doubt you would he made it this far. you trusted cassian well enough to know he could carry a conversation. “i’m going out with nesta. it’s date night for us, you know, because we’re mates.”

the word leaves you frozen, eyes widened and shocked. you had left out the part where you suspected azriel was bonded to you, leaving cassian to simply assume you just had a dumb crush. he was clearly trying to tease you by pushing the subject with azriel.

“do you have a mate, y/n?” cassian gives you a large grin. you held back a sigh, he definitely was your professional instigator.

you tried to laugh it off, remembering that you conveniently hadn’t told cassian that you thought azriel was your mate and might as well be falling in love.

“no,” you lie. then you realize the chance you have, and you glance towards azriel hopefully. “what about you, azriel?”

“i don’t have a mate,” azriel says coldly. “and i don’t want one.”

you try to ignore the pang in your chest. it felt like azriel had tugged on the string that potentially connected you before ripping it apart. he doesn’t want a mate. you think about all the implications of this. azriel had never suspected anything from his end, he had never thought anything special about you. you hold back your tears when you realize your loss and the feeling of rejection stings you. you seemed to have finally found your mate, only for him to not want you back.

your lips purse, fighting back what you really wanted to say next. you excuse yourself soon after, cassian following you closely behind.

“i’m sorry,” cassian awkwardly tries to give you a smile. “you wouldn’t like azriel anyways,” he waves his hand. “he’s cold, and doesn’t like to socialize. he wouldn’t have gotten along with you.”

you nod in agreement, keeping your head down as you stared at the ground. the feeling of emptiness, of losing your mate, it plagued you. cassian offers to walk you home, to which you want to politely decline in your sadness. however, you could use someone to cheer you up.

it’s not until you’re completely alone, back in your own room, that you allow yourself to grieve. you shut the door tight and lean your back against the wooden surface, sliding down to the floor. it’s not until then that you start to cry at the loss of your mate. not because azriel was hurt, but because he’s rejected you.

[cuddlychristopher]

Car video with Matt Sturniolo - Fluff! (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader!

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: swearing, a little kissing

A/N: This one got away from me and I had to reign it back in because it's not supposed to be smutty lmaooo But here it is!

***

It’s close to midnight as Matt parks the van in a random spot at the favorite lot. The two of you got fries, chicken nuggets with sweet n’ sour sauce (mostly for him), and a large milkshake to share. You plan to do a car video to post on his individual channel.

You have no idea what you were going to talk about. Matt had fans submit their own questions for you two to answer.

After setting up the camera, which included Matt going out to check it, you start recording and picking at the food.

Matt starts the video off. "Hey everyone, (y/n) and I are here. Uhm... basically we're going to do our own car video without Nick and Chris. We don't really have a topic, but you guys submitted questions on instagram. Babe, have anything to start us off?"

Now, he looks at you as you’re mid fry. You chew quickly as possible, wiping your hands on a napkin, as he giggles under his breath.

"Thanks for the warning," you remark with a laugh. "Uhm, not really... I'm just here for the vibes."

"For the vibes?" Matt crooks a brow and looks you up and down. Then he takes a nugget and dips in the sauce.

You roll your eyes. "Don't yuck my yum."

Matt stuffs the nugget in his mouth. "Okay, Chris."

All you do is flip him off and take a sip of the milkshake.

"Just ask the questions."

"Okay, okay." He laughs as he readjusts in his seat after grabbing his phone. It's quiet for a couple minutes while he gathers them. "Oh, let's start with this one. What's our favorite thing about each other?"

"Well-"

"Oh, quick disclaimer, sorry babe." Matt shoots you a nervous smile. "I will edit screenshots of the questions onto the screen so you can see who they're from. And uh.. if you'd like to get featured in videos, follow us on instagram to see the next time I ask for questions. I'll put the @s on the screen and in the description below."

You slowly chew on your straw after taking another sip, patiently waiting for him to be done. It's already been fifteen minutes and you are almost positive Matt forgot the extra battery pack. Granted, you could've asked Nick where it was and brought it; too late.

"Okay, what were you going to say?" Matt prompts.

You think about making another snarky remark in how it'd been so long since he asked the question that you don't remember it.

Tapping the straw on your pursed lips, you pretend to think. "Well... I have many favorite things so it's an unfair question."

Matt lightly rolls his eyes. "Look, I know you love everything about me, but what's your favorite?"

"Oh, everything?" You laugh. "You think so highly of yourself, don't you, Matty B? Let's go the different route then." You look directly into the camera. "Guys, this kid will not accept anything sort of unorganized or clean. Not for more than five minutes if he can help it."

Matt's jaw drops and he snatches the cup out of your hand. "Your least favorite thing is how organized I am?"

"Yeah, live a little! You won't die if there's like a wrapper or two on your desk, or if the toothbrush isn't in the holder."

"You are an absolute monster, (y/n)!" Matt cracks. He points between you and the camera. "Don't believe a single word she says. She leaves more than a wrapper or two, and her skincare is all over my bathroom counter after she does her morning routine."

You shrug. "I don't see a problem with that, and I don't think the fans will either."

"Guys, leave a comment if you're more like me or (y/n)." He barely scoffs under his breath, eating another fry. "You're lucky you have other amazing qualities that I overlook the messiness."

Now, you couldn't help blushing. “Such as?”

Matt shakes his head, a smile spreading on his lips. “You’re understanding about a lot going on, you know, like the channels, life, and stuff. So it’s easy to talk to you about it, like if I’m ever anxious or something.”

“Top fucking notch quality right there,” you say. “Anything else? I love the praise.”

“I thought this was reserved for in private, babe.”

Your eyes go wide and you almost spit out the fry you just put in your mouth. “Matthew! Stop!”

Matt giggles under his breath. “Sorry. Uhm… You can rock a men’s polo and make the best playlists for me… Obviously you have such a vibrant personality.” 

“That I do.” You nod in agreement. You reach out to brush back some of his hair, causing some pinkness to rouge on his cheeks. “I love how cautious you are about decisions, keeps me from letting impulsive thoughts win.”

“Which is a lot,” he shoots a look at the camera.

You can only roll your eyes in response. “Anyway… You’re the most caring person I know that will drop anything to help someone you love. The only time you won’t ask a lot of questions… Oh! You’re actually the best big spoon ever.”

He bites his bottom lip, failing to hold back a cheesy grin. “Really, babe?”

“Absolutely.” 

You close the space between you, and Matt instinctively rests his hand in the crook of your neck. You crawl over the center console onto his lap when you realize it wouldn’t be just a few kisses.

Time gets away and you sort of forget that you are filming. Your hands roam each other’s bodies over and under clothes. Both of you leave butterfly kisses on the other’s neck.

The lights in the van suddenly dim away.

“Shit. Fuck,” Matt says, his lips pink from yours and hair tousled more than usual. “I think the camera died.”

“And we technically only answered one question.” You bite your lip with a laugh. 

He laughs with you, running a hand through his hair. He lays back and looks you in the eyes. “I should’ve known not to start with that question.”

“Should we try doing this again on a different night?”

Matt sighs heavily. “Probably… It would suck to scrap all the footage though.”

A smirk rises on your lips as you move back to the passenger seat. “You want to include clips of us making out?”

“Obviously no.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Let’s just keep going then. Use my phone to record.”

Matt kisses the crook of your neck. “You’re the best, babe.”

You shoot him a look. “Be careful, Matthew.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He throws his hands up in defense. (He really wasn’t that sorry.)

*You can request others from this list or send me new ones!*

[apenitentialprayer]

why do anglicans still exist like their entire church is built on the fact that some guy wanted a male heir. or do anglicans believe that this isn't rly why their church came about

Okay, I do love clowning on my Anglican friends, but there are a few angles (da dum tss) that we can look at in terms of why the Anglican Church is a distinctive tradition.

Theologically, the Anglican Church might have started off as "Catholic without the Pope," so to speak; the Anglican Church was essentially Gallican in nature, meaning that the head of the church wasn't the seniormost bishop, but the head of the state. But even if it started off simply being in schism with the Roman Church, it didn't take very long before Reformed theology started entering the Church through the efforts of Anne Bolelyn, Thomas Cromwell, and especially Edward VI. There were preceding documents, but the Thirty-Nine articles passed by Queen Elizabeth I in 1571 helped to solidify a distinctively Anglican identity.

But it's a little more than that, too, because in addition to this Protestantization of the Anglican Church, there have also been movements within to.... "Latinize" might be the wrong word, but to bring back some traditional Catholic elements. We see this, for example, in the Oxford movement of the 1830s; many of its members would end up converting to Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy, but those who remained behind started the Anglo-Catholic movement which still has a strong presence. (My girlfriend goes to an Anglo-Catholic parish, and our city has at least three other ones).

This kind of dual accommodation of Reformed and Catholic theological ideas has created a unique situation for the Anglican Church; Bishop J. Neil Alexander tries to articulate this by distinguishing the Anglican Church as a "pragmatic church," in contradistinction with "confessional churches" (Catholic & Lutheran, which focus on creeds and councils) and "experiential churches" (Baptist and other groups whose memberships require a born-again moment):

What, then, does it mean to be pragmatic? It means that within the generous capacity of the Episcopal [American Anglican] Church, we do not always agree on matters of biblical interpretation or theological definition. It means that we have all gotten here by way of hundreds of different and often unique experiences of God's presence in our lives. It means that those things which other churches depend to hold themselves together will never be a central feature of our common life. We find our life together driven by our willingness to stand together at the table of God's gracious hospitality. […] That, I believe, is the pragmatism at the heart of what it means to be an Episcopalian. We are a variegated tapestry of theology and experience, and we are all the richer for it. But no level of theological agreement or experiential commonality will ever be the basis on which Episcopalians will live together well. What is possible is that we will be pragmatic —we will keep our differences in perspective— and we will recognize that ultimately nothing will divide those who are willing to stand together before God's altar to sing, to pray, and to receive the gift of God's eternity.

Now, this is a very fascinating situation, because it means that the Anglican Church has a lot of diversity in religious thought and doctrinal opinion. On an official level, that means you will have bishops aligning with different theological orientations working side by side — and, in theory, the office of Archbishop of Canterbury is supposed to alternate between Anglo-Catholic and Evangelical holders. On a more personal level, I have found that the Episcopal clergy who I interact with have varying spiritualities and theologies; one priest I know has Catholic sympathies that are so strong that he was referred to as "the Papist" in seminary, while another clergymember I know doesn't think Confession is necessary and is ambivalent about her parish's practice of Eucharistic Adoration. And they work at the same church.

Liturgically, they are also distinctive. The current bedrock of Anglican prayer is the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, which is clearly inspired by Benedictine spirituality, but with continuing liturgical revision and innovation that kind of fits with the 'pragmatic church' mindset explained above. Some Anglican parishes even preserve pre-Tridentine traditions (remember, they split before the Council of Trent), like the Sarum Use.

The Anglican Church has had a developing liturgical patrimony for the past five centuries; one of the reasons why the Catholic Church created the Anglican Ordinariate was because it recognized that fact, and wanted former members of the Anglican Church to be able to preserve their traditions even after re-entering communion with Rome.

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

So, like, the Anglican Church may have started off as a more-or-less Catholic particular church that was in schism with Rome, a schism orchestrated by a king who wanted fuller control over the Church in his country, but the Anglican Church has had five centuries of development. And, as much as I like to clown on my Anglican friends, I can definitely see why the Anglican communion has a deep appeal.

[sincerely-sofie]

*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*

Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.

[poetsblvd]

max verstappen 𝒙 reader !

❨ blurb . requested . fluff and comfort ❩

⋆⭒˚.⋆

He grunts pushing open the door to the holiday home he’s rented for both of you, arms laden with heavy bags from his shopping spree for you.

Hermès, Cartier, Chanel, Van Cleef, APM Monaco, you name it he’s got it.

He drops the purchases on the couch and sighs, fuck he’s definitely going to have to make another trip down for the rest of the bags.

Many wouldn’t think of him to be the type to spoil his girlfriend, and while he takes great offence to that statement he somewhat understands where they come from.

He hasn’t quite had long or serious enough relationships for him to grow attached to and dote on his girl, but it’s very different with you.

He’s the first guy you’ve ever been with, at ripe age of twenty-two now and having only dated him for a year, he thinks it incredibly important to spoil you.

You’re everything to him, and he wants you to know exactly how a beautiful, kind and loving woman like you should be treated.

Because god forbid anything ever happen to peel you away from him, he wants you to know that you deserve only the best, because you are the best there is.

And it’s not only materialistic spoiling, oh no no no, you have to be treated well from absolutely all angles.

Including very bare minimum actions that make you feel special, holding the door open for you, never letting you walk on the dangerous side of the road, getting you flowers every week, always listening and giving you his full attention and input during conversations, etc etc.

He doesn’t get to do this nearly as often with both of you living in different countries and having extremely busy work schedules.

So the chances that he does get to spoil you with all he has, he snatches the opportunity greedily like a toddler with candy.

Today was supposed very normal day of vacation, the first week of summer break that you and Max were very lucky to spend together in St Tropez.

Waking up in the morning however and kissing your face silly, he deemed you too beautiful to not have a day for yourself, a very general excuse to simply spoil you and make you happy.

So with a few texts here and there, he dropped you off at the spa to rejuvenate, relax and pamper up for a cute little date night.

Without letting it drop that he was going to buy you a gift, or a hundred.

Bringing him to where he is now.

He arranges the bags neatly in the living room, running back to the driveway and pulling out the final gifts, a stunning Versace gown and your favourite Manolo Blahnik heels for the dinner he has planned.

He runs back in just in time for your cab to roll through, as you smile and wave to the driver.

He struggles for a moment, wondering how to position himself casually, should he lie down? No that’s weird.

Lean on the door? Far too Troy Bolton for him.

Position himself sexily on the presents? Absolutely not you’d laugh too hard and never let him live it down.

“Maaaaax! I’m hoome!” Your greeting has him smiling and he finds himself making long strides to pull you into his arms.

“Hello my love.” He breathes in the flowery scent of your perfume and the softness of your skin. “You look stunning, how do you feel?”

He finds himself momentarily in awe of your smile and nods, impressed when you shove your hands in front of his face showing him the nails you’d decided upon.

“They’re very pretty baby, I really like the blue flowers on them!” He winks at you, pulling your nails closer to his face.

“Really? I’m so glad! The lady over there kept telling me that I should do ombré, and I didn’t know how to tell her that I really hated designs like that, so we finally agreed on— Max!” You gasp, stopping in between your story telling.

“What?” He shrugs innocently.

You gape at the living room filled with shopping bags of varying sizes and colours, shock marring your face. “Oh Max, again?”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean again?”

“I mean, you practically bought me the entirety of Hermès a few months ago? Why on earth would you spend so much money on me again?”

“Five months ago darling!” He leads you to the sofa, kissing your knuckles, and handing you a tiffany blue box.

“I’ve been slacking! And what do you mean on you? What else would I ever spend my money on? it’s yours anyways, everything of mine is yours, especially me.” He settles down cross legged by your feet and keeps pulling boxes and bags towards you.

Placing a hand on his cheek you smile “You really don’t have to do this, I’ve told you so many times I just want you.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want too.” He grips your hand on his cheek and kisses your fingertips.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you more.” He smiles, squeezing your knee and nodding at you to open your presents.

“Now come on! Gimme a fashion show, I planned this with just enough time before our dinner. I got you these new shoes, oh! And a dress for tonight, but you’re gonna have to choose between this tennis necklace or this Juste un Clou necklace, I liked both so I got you both.”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

ugh this made me feel very single and think of very unreal expectations from men!! thank you for requesting and i hope you liked this <3

[jokingmisfit]

Imagine (Will You?)

Imagine being a villain. Imagine flirting specifically with Nightwing and Red Hood. Imagine they become obsessive, but you don't notice. Imagine you get away with your next few crime sprees as the news covers the two brother in henious combat. Imagine waking up in a strange place with your two favorite vigilanties. Imagine feeling sick and out of it. Imagine questioning them angrily. Imagine they explain sweetly how they saved your life. Imagine their "concerned" faces as you tell them you don't remember that. Imagine as they keep you company while you work on "recovering", but you never seem to get better. Imagine crying to the masked men and telling them you miss feeling good. Imagine telling them how much you appreaciate their presence that you still don't feel like you know them. Imagine they take off the masks. Imagine you officially meet Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. Imagine af you grow closer to the two men. Imagine your connection to them making you rethink your life of crime. Imagine their loving pampering changing your mind. Imagine telling them once you get better you want to live a fairly normal life. Imagine they make you a deal that when you feel better you can live with them and they'll help you get on the right path. Imagine accepting. Imagine in the next few weeks you start feeling better. Imagine you move in with the two leather clad men. Imagine within a few months the three of you start dating. Imagine the most perfect relationship.

Now, imagine, you wake up late without either of the men in your three's apartment. Imagine you get bored waiting for them to come home so you go snooping, you used to be a villain after all and doing things you weren't supposed to was in your nature. Imagine going into the only room the two told you to leave alone. Imagine the horror as you realize what you've walked in on. Imagine the live video feeds of your home. Imagine seeing a medical monitor in the corner with your name on it. Imagine evidence of old criminals who you were friends with that were now dead. Imagine the panic as you go to leave your home for the first time, alone, in a very long time. Imagine the dread as the door deadbolts itself after you initially unlock it. Imagine the panic as you hear Dick's bubbly voice behind you hiding a sinister tone while he asks where you were going. Imagine the anger and bitterness in Jason's voice as he reminds you how you weren't supposed to go into that room for your own good. Imagine a heavy fight against the two, you used to be a villain after all. Imagine they win. Imagine being tied to a bed as the men scold and coddle you in attempts to soothe your anger and anxiety. Imagine now knowing you'll never have a moment to yourself ever again.

[plussizefantasia]

More Body, More Money

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger

an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.

“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done. 

You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month. 

“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you. 

“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess. 

“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix. 

You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.

But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.

You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.

“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.” 

He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”

“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”

“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.” 

You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.” 

“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you. 

“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”

“No, I see your point darling.”

“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”

“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.

Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm. 

“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.

“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”

“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. 

“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”

A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.

“And I you, my love.”

“No Anthony, I need you.”

His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…” 

;)

[hesztia16]

~ after the Sun went down, but not that late ~

*every radio/tv/anything Barbara can hack into to send a live message suddenly stops whatever they were playing, on every monitor a green, feminine looking face appears*

Oracle: Good evening Gotham, I have interrupted the usual programs to pass on an important message from Batman.

Due to an unfortunate magical incident most of his children have been turned into their most unhinged selves and they are currently running loose in Gotham.

Red Hood is under the influence of a mind altering magic, that makes him unstable and aggressive. Remember the duffle bag incident? Worse than that. Do not, under any circumstances, approach him. If you see him, run!

Robin is a little bit younger than he’s supposed to be, he looks very cute, but he will slay you with a katana, if he feels it is warranted. He feels it is warranted a lot of time. Can be deterred by animals. Especially, is the animal in question is in danger. Do not endanger animals, if you want to live.

Spoiler has a point to prove and is not afraid to use glitter, cooking utensils or any random object she finds as a weapon. Let her be, if you’re not one of the worst kind of criminals, you’re relatively safe, property damage will be covered by the Bat Insurance.

Cardinal {A/N: Red Robin is a stupid name, this is a hill I’ll die on} is at the beginning of his Robin run, I hope we all remember what that means. Let’s pray we don’t have any tanks lying around Gotham this time. Or any weapons of mass destruction. Ask him very specific questions and let him rant for as long as he’s able.

Black Bat is yet to be located, she could be anywhere. And I mean anywhere.

And yes, Nightwing is in fact nine years old. You might be able to bribe him with cookies into a less feral state, but then there’s a possibility that you’ll have to deal with a sugar high Baby Robin.

Batman himself isn’t available at the moment and won’t be for about two more hours. Criminals are free to stay home or return to Arkham Asylum slash Black Gate.

Stay sane.

Oracle out.

[amourane]

new discoveries

pairing: remus lupin x reader

genre: modern au, fluff

w/c: 1.6k

summary: moving into a new place was hard enough but now there was a handsome stranger that made your heart skip a beat.

warnings: none

a/n: this one is my dream meet cute guys

Moving into your new flat was a pain. Having lived in your old one for nearly five years meant that you were leaving many memories behind. You had gathered so much stuff from the past couple of years and it meant that you had a lot of things to move into your new flat. 

So here you were, hauling multiple bags and boxes of your stuff into the elevator. The moving van was due to come tomorrow with all of your furniture. You were carrying a huge duffel bag and three boxes, filled with the little things that you thought you would be able to carry with ease. That thought had left you now.

A normal person would have taken two rounds to carry their things up to their flat but you were a bit lazy. You also didn’t want your things to potentially get stolen. In your mind, your new place wasn’t going to be too far but you were wrong. 

It took more than half an hour to just balance the boxes in your hands and try to press the elevator button on the right floor. Your finger fiddled carelessly with the button and you pushed it and waited as the arrow indicated you were going up. However, it became very clear that you were not where you were supposed to be as you were greeted with a corridor full of identical doors.

“Um…are you alright?” A gentle voice asked and though you couldn’t see the person’s face you could still make out the tufts of sandy blonde hair. “Do you need help?”

“Yes please, if that wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.” You stumbled, trying to not let anything fall onto the floor. 

A pair of hands reached out to grab the boxes in your hands and then you could see your saviour’s face. The most beautiful man stood in front of you. His lips were lifted in a crooked smile that hinted with a sense of laughter, his chocolate brown eyes were something you could simply melt into. His clothes were plain, a simple shirt and jeans but he looked extraordinary. You were momentarily struck dumb by the beauty before you.

Suddenly, you felt self conscious in your ratty T-shirt and shorts that you threw on in the morning because they were the only clothes you had left. You gave him a smile.

“Thank you, I’m just moving in and I’m already lost.” Your cheeks flushed, hearing how idiotic you must have sounded. 

The man gave you a reassuring grin. “That’s okay, I’m Remus by the way, what number are you in?”

“Um…it’s 5B2. I’m Y/n.” You would have offered your hand to shake but that didn’t seem possible. 

Remus chuckled. “You’re on a completely different floor, I’m the flat above yours.”

You couldn’t help but stare at the way he tipped his head back to laugh, exposing the long expanse of his neck that you would love nothing more than to place kisses all over. You shook your head free of all the naughty thoughts. This guy was trying to help and here you were already dreaming about him.

Though, he really was handsome. Exactly your type. 

The both of you got into the elevator and Remus helped you press the button and the both of you waited as the doors began to close.

“So why’d you move?”

“Well, my job’s closer here and I managed to have enough money to get a nicer place. Plus, my old flat was getting a little small and I kinda wanted a change.” 

“You picked a nice place then. Everyone here is lovely, pretty sure they’ll come knocking on your door once they find that you’ve moved in.” 

“How long have you lived here?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your mouth and you cringed but Remus didn’t seem to mind.

“Um…roughly about two years now.” The elevator doors opened and he waited for you to walk out before following you from behind. “I used to room with my friend but then he moved out to live with his girlfriend, now it’s just me and an extra room.”

The small gestures he did made your heart pound and you didn’t want to believe it but you were pretty sure that you were in love. Maybe you were known to fall in love a little too quickly and maybe you had gotten your heart broken because you were a little bit of a hopeless romantic but…you genuinely felt right about this. 

You had known the guy for a total of less than ten minutes but it was like an angel had descended from the heavens and granted you a miracle.

“Well, this one’s you.” Remus stood in front of your new flat door. The dull grey stared back at you and normally you would have been put off by the colour but the way Remus stood in front of it had you completely mesmerised. “I’m assuming you’ve got your keys.”

“Yes, yep, definitely.” Your fingers fumbled in your pockets before finally retrieving the keyring. With a nervous laugh, you managed to unlock the door, ushering Remus inside.

“Where would you like the boxes to go?”

“Just somewhere on the floor, I don’t mind.” You replied, your cheeks flushing at the realisation of how disorganised you must seem. “Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it.”

Remus' smile only grew wider, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight. "No problem at all. It was lovely to help you." He said, his words like a soothing melody to your ears. "I hope you get settled soon. If you need anything, I'm just a floor above you."

As he bid you farewell with a wave, you stood frozen in place, the echoes of his departing footsteps lingering in the air. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, but when it did, a surge of determination washed over you.

You would do whatever it took to win over Remus.

//

“Remus, hey!” You shouted as you saw the familiar tall figure of your neighbour, running closer towards him. 

“Y/n?” He squinted as you approached him. “Sorry, I couldn’t see you from so far away, how’ve you been? Settling in properly?”

It had been a couple of days since you first moved in and just like Remus said, people came knocking at your door. Everyone was sweet and kind as they offered you home cooked meals as a welcome gift. You had accepted them all with a gracious smile.

Though the one person you really wanted to see came by quite often, the craving you had for him was insatiable. You would see Remus nearly every day and he would always give you a bright smile and a wave. 

There was just something about him that made your whole body fill with butterflies and want to scream in joy.

“It’s been great. I’ve actually been meaning to ask something.” 

You bounced on the balls of your toes at the question you were going to ask next. Truth be told, you had an inkling that Remus liked you back, his cheeks would go pink and there were times you could feel his eyes following you. 

Yet you were still nervous. All your life you thought yourself a pretty self-confident person. You knew what you wanted and how to get it. So obviously you wanted to ask Remus out but now that you were in that position everything hit you like a truck. 

Remus' presence seemed to magnify every little detail—the way his hair fell in charming disarray, the warmth of his smile, the way his eyes sparkled with each shared moment. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Your palms grew clammy as you grappled with the fear of rejection. What if you had misread the signs? What if Remus didn't feel the same way? The thought sent a shiver down your spine, threatening to derail your carefully laid plans.

That would be beyond embarrassing.

“So what was it that you wanted to ask?”

You took a deep breath. Hey, if all went wrong you could just move back to your old flat and never see him again. 

“Well…there’s a really nice park that I go to every weekend, I was wondering if you’d like to come hang out sometime, maybe grab a coffee?” 

Remus’ cheeks turned a dark shade of red and his whole body froze. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign so you waited, getting more anxious as each silent second passed. 

“I-I’d love to.” He finally said and you let out the breath you had been holding. 

You flung yourself at him, hugging him tight before releasing him when you realised what you had done. With your cheeks burning bright, you quickly pulled back, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips.

“Sorry!” You blurted out, your voice slightly muffled by your mortification.

Remus's laughter filled the air, his own cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. His chuckle was like music to your ears, easing the tension that had settled between you. “That’s okay.” A playful glint dancing in his eyes as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “We can do way more than hug.” 

His teasing remark sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks, rendering you momentarily speechless. Remus’ bottom lip was in between his teeth and you could tell he was holding back a laugh. You cleared your throat.

“I’ll see you around.” You scurried away, trying to hide your blushing face.

“See you around love.” He called making you nearly trip over thin air. The endearment caused your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to flush even brighter. With one final glance over your shoulder, you caught sight of Remus's amused smirk, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

You were really looking forward to your new life here.

[turnaboutfix]

Oh yes of course!!!

I meant specifically like her very early concept art (blue haired) and like, one of the first ones where she has short hair (but still with those 2 loose locks at the front)? I hope you know which one I'm talking about lolol

BUT if you wanna speak your thoughts on like. All of them. I want to hear 👂❓️

( @ellivcca asked what I thought about Maya's concept art and I replied in priv if they could be more specific)

Let's talk about Maya's designs! ✨

I will skip the blue-haired art for now, since I have more to say about her other early designs. They're in a few Japanese AA Guidebooks, but "逆転裁判2 真相解明マニュアル", or "Gyakuten Saiban 2: Fact-Finding Manual" has the most in one place. There are blurbs that discuss the designs, and I'll do my best to summarize them. My Japanese isn't amazing and I had to mostly rely on machine translation + cross referencing dictionaries, so it's possible I may be inaccurate. Also, I'm a novice at Japanese culture, so if I'm misrepresenting anything please bring this to my attention and I'll correct things accordingly!

The book acknowledges that Maya was intended to be of high-school age, hence the the sailor suit artwork. They seem to suggest that the loose socks was a hint at Maya's spunky personality.

When they began to explore her as a spirit medium (1), they wanted her to come from a wealthy, noble family. It looks like a lot of these explorations made it to Franziska's design, with some of the shapes of the shoulders and the jabot-looking neck wear, which is interesting!

As they kept exploring in the second round of sketches (2), they stressed traditional/folk dress as being an important part of her design. They noted they had her carrying something on her back at the time, which I think hints more to her "folksy" feel.

The beaded necklace she's wearing in (2) are drawn from Mala bead necklaces, which are prayer beads rooted in Hinduism and Buddhism and are said to help focus the mind during meditation. They seem present in a lot of spiritual figures in Japan.

Later (3), they explicitly comment drawing inspiration from the Matagi, a group of hunting clans in the northern Japanese mountains (be careful looking them up, they do bear hunting and there's a lot of explicit imagery, even on the wikipedia).

They comment on that this version of her early character might be very athletic. She also seems to be more stoic in these explorations.

Then, for (4) and (5), they evolved the design to make it look appear more feminine, giving her long hair, but making a note that her look isn't typical of modern people. The large orbs in (3), (4) and (5) I think are supposed be drawn from "Yuigesa"(結袈裟), or harnesses decorated with pom-poms worn by Shugendō practitioners, hermits who live in the mountains and practice asceticism.

Then in (6), they added the magatama and committed to her having black hair. They note shortening the hem of her costume from design (5).

The magatama addition is pretty significant! Magatama necklaces are used by noro priestesses of the Ryukyu Kingdom from the islands in the very south of Japan.

Their religion broadly speaking, involves ancestor worship and the relationships between the living and dead, gods and spirits. It seems to me like the culture in Kurain Village draws a lot from the Ryukyuan people--and you can even see this with the beads along with the magatamas.

But there seems to be a lot of generic imagery of Spirit Mediums that I've been able to find in Japanese media which have shared elements of design in Maya's final design. The most interesting of these to me is "ほんとにあった!霊媒先生", or "It Really Happened! Spirit Medium Teacher". The design similarities are striking (and make me wonder if Maya was an inspiration?)

So, to summarize it all up, it seems like the early designers (and there were only two! Kumiko Suekane and Tatsuro Iwamoto) wanted a character who was different, folksy, feminine and spunky that displayed unique spiritual power to aid in the narrative/game mechanics of the games, and they explored the different facets of their own culture--from the northern Matagi clans to the southern Ryukyuan people--Japanese iconography, and tastes into Maya's final design.

And I think that's Real Neat. :)

Thoughts about other designs (Blue-Haired/SoJ Maya) under the cut cuz oh my gosh this post is already huge.

Blue haired Maya!

What's interesting to me is that a lot of the design language on this early Maya art seems to have been carried over to Ema's design (glasses, boots, coat/skirt). She also has similar vibes to Lynne from Ghost Trick.

I definitely enjoy Maya's final design a lot better, but I like the triadic color harmony and spunk here!

And then her design update in Spirit of Justice! These concepts are from "逆転裁判6 公式ビジュアルブック", or "Gyakuten Saiban 6: Official Visual Book". :)

Takuro Fuse (the character designer) comments that he never drew Maya before when he took a stab at updating her, so he wanted to get that down first before tackling the designs. He wondered how she would change over the course of 11 years, and first experimented with a design, thinking about how Mia would look like as a spirit medium. He thought it would be interesting if Phoenix wouldn't be able to tell if Maya channeled Mia. (Me too tbh.)

I feel like this design has a bit too much going on, but I do like the longer cream colored sleeves!

Takuro talks more about how he was exploring all sorts of designs before landing on something more simple. He wanted her to have what he called a "traveling costume" and was very fond of the hat. These designs seem to pull from similar places I've discussed with Maya's early designs, as well as Japanese pilgrims.

As fun as the additions and changes to her design are, I think it was very smart to just add subtle changes: the longer robes, jacket, and the additional beads to her necklace. The shawl is a nice touch, too. This reflects how post-7yg Phoenix and Edgeworth also have subtle changes to their designs as well, which I love and I think were very smart moves from a design-perspective as well as personal taste. Their designs are very iconic and I think it was a service to maintain that iconography.

This was a very fun thing to explore! Thank you kindly @ellivcca for the ask!

[toournextadventure]

what once was mine

Summary: Karlach is back. For good this time. And she just wants to have her love back so they can finally spend the rest of their lives together like they had planned. Things just never seem to go her way.

Word Count: 8k Warnings: swearing, violence, murder, typical BG3/DND themes Pairing: Karlach Cliffgate x Reader

The birds were singing.

It didn’t matter how long Karlach had been out of Avernus. She knew she would never go back to Avernus thanks to the blueprints she and Wyll had found. By all accounts, she was free. And in the end, even that didn’t diminish the sounds of the birds singing in the air around her.

Her life had been idyllic since coming back from Avernus for the last time. It had been nearly two years since she had finished her adventure with Tav and the gang. Nearly two years since she had made the choice - which she had initially regretted but now celebrated - to fight for her life. Now, the rest of the gang had settled fairly close together, living their own lives of peace.

Something about defeating a Netherbrain really took the thrill of adventure out of a person, she supposed.

She enjoyed her days around Baldur’s Gate. At first, she hadn’t been sure if she could emotionally handle living in the city again. It held many great memories, but it also held tainted memories. The ghosts of things she could have had if not for Gortash and Zariel. The reminders of a love she had lost and couldn’t find again.

Those fears had been unwarranted, though, and she was more than happy to be living in Baldur’s Gate again. It felt like home to her, like the place she had been desperately trying to get back to. The entire gang - aside from Shadowheart and Lae’zel, who had settled in a farmhouse outside the gates - had moved in, enjoying their time together. Karlach could have guests. She could have a family again.

But Karlach could never get over losing you. Not when everything in the city reminded her of you. You were in the children’s laughter as they ran down the streets playing stickball. You were in the soft, hushed words someone gave her lover as they sat for tea. You were in the sun on the hottest of days, kissing her skin and leaving her warm and whole.

Gortash had told her about you before she had killed him. He had told her eagerly. She didn’t know if he had wanted to get her angry, or sad, or whatever else. She didn’t really fucking care, all she knew was it was his fault anything had happened in the first place.

“They’re an Oathbreaker now,” Gortash said between gasps for air. “Did you know?”

“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Karlach asked. She wished to just cut his head off and be done with him. She wanted her vengeance.

“Your pup.”

Karlach let the blade of her axe rest heavily on Gortash’s neck as his words sunk in. He was talking about you. And just the thought of something happening to you had her infernal heart roaring. Something had hurt you. Something had hurt you so badly you had broken your Oath. That was sacred. That damn Oath was your life.

“They frighten even me now,” he continued. “You should be proud.” She pressed the axe deeper into his skin. “They’ve gained quite the kill count.”

“You don’t get to talk about them,” Karlach growled.

“Maybe they’ll work with Zariel next,” he said with a sparkle in his eye and a sadistic smile. “It’s not like they have anything left to lose.”

Karlach lifted the axe, let out a guttural scream, and slammed it down on his neck. His head separated from his body with ease before rolling a few feet across the room.

She didn’t feel any better.

Tav had done her best to talk Karlach down from a panic attack, but that only worked so well. Eventually she made sense, saying that she couldn’t help you if she blew a gasket. Karlach couldn’t help but laugh because she was right. The last thing she needed was to overheat and not be able to help you. Wherever you were.

You were her next adventure. Her last adventure.

“I thought I’d find you up here,” Tav’s voice came from the other end of the rooftops. “Astarion said you hadn’t left since last night.”

“I knew he was being a sneaky bastard,” Karlach said with a smile as she pulled her knees up to her chest to make room for Tav.

“He’s worried about you,” she said. “We all are.”

Karlach sighed and rested her chin on her knees. She knew they were all worried. She could feel it in the looks they gave her and the too-soft touches. When they would hesitate, for just a second, before pulling her into a hug or patting her on the shoulder. When they choked on a sentence because, at least in their minds, it was too reminiscent of her hunt for you.

She loved that they all cared, but she didn’t think she could stomach it for much longer.

“Have you seen them again?”

Again. That word was haunting Karlach’s consciousness. It had been more than a few fortnights since she had found you and seen what had truly happened. What you had become after she had been sold to fight a war that she wanted no part in. Since she had more or less abandoned you and her parents through no fault of her own.

Karlach had done a lot of investigative work - which admittedly was really fucking shoddy - before having the slightest clue where you were. It took a lot of schmoozing, a lot of bribing Astarion with good wine, and a lot of talking with criminals before she finally heard of a supposed werewolf attack in the Lower City. Now that she could work with.

Her axe was strapped securely on her back as she stood in the middle of an intersection. It had been a while since night had fallen and the nearly full-moon had risen to illuminate the streets. If she looked carefully, she could see a few rats skittering across the cobblestone and into the sewers. In the distance, she heard laughter from the tavern a few blocks away.

Unless your internal rhythm had changed - and she assumed it hadn’t - you would be somewhere nearby. She should be able to hear the fracturing of bone and the whimpers that accompanied it. Neither you nor Karlach ever knew if it was a curse, a mutation, or you were just unlucky, but you wouldn’t only change on a full moon. You would partially change on almost full moons as well.

In an attempt to make you feel better about it, she had used to call you her special pup. You used to like it.

She hoped you still did.

Her right ear twitched at a sound that she couldn’t decipher. Listening harder, she heard it again. There you were. There was no doubt in her mind it was you. She hadn’t fought her way out of Avernus twice just to not be able to tell you apart from anyone else. Without looking anywhere else, she ran in the direction of the whimpers.

As much as Karlach didn’t think she would need it, she kept a mental note to grab her axe when she found you. If you were anything like what Gortash had tried to claim, she might need to knock a bit of sense back into you. Get you back to that kind soul she knew back in the day. But with each step she took, she got more unsure of what she would find.

Hells, she hadn’t felt that nervous since her first few nights in Avernus.

The sounds of screaming from men was enough to make her really nervous. There shouldn’t have been any screaming, at least not from other people. It should have only been you and her. You and me against the world, darling. That’s what you had always told her before she would leave for work. It should have still been that way.

It wasn’t.

Karlach would have recognised you even if she had lost her mind. You were her person, her love, she would never forget a single thing about it. The barb of your tail, the cut of your hair, the piercings in your ears that you had begged her to get with you. Matching piercings. Now that you were both older, it almost seemed childish.

She nearly tripped over a singed body because she was so enthralled by you. You. That was all it took to rid her of any sense. Gods, she had forgotten what you did to her. How just the sight of you alone was enough to set every inch of her alight. In a good way, of course.

There was an itch that she wanted you to scratch. The itch to feel your skin underneath her fingertips again. She wanted to trace your scars and kiss every random scale you had. Karlach wanted to know if your skin felt as warm as she remembered, or if it would be cooler now that she ran hot instead. And if she let her mind go to far more inappropriate places, she wanted all of that again too.

A strangled cry caught her attention again. Damn, she had gotten lost in you already. Maybe she should have taken Lae’zel up on her offer to accompany her for the night. At least then she wouldn’t be getting quite so distracted. At least not openly. Or maybe she would, she was already getting distracted again.

From where Karlach was standing, she couldn’t see your face. Only the back of your head, the tips of your horns, the clenched fist at your side, the way your ears laid flat against the side of your head. If memory served - and it did - you were at your most terrifying when your ears were tucked. You were one to try and hide any negative emotions, but your ears gave you away. Karlach had always loved it. She was undecided if she loved it in that moment.

In front of you was a man, no older than you or her, perhaps even a bit younger. He was on the ground, trying to scramble backwards away from you. Every inch he moved, you followed, your tail swinging slowly behind you. The words that came out of his mouth were rushed, but she knew begging when she heard it.

She couldn’t see your mouth, but there was a glow to your hand when you lifted it in front of him. If she didn’t want you to kill that man, she had better say something. Quickly. But what could she say? Hey there, long time no see! That would be stupid. Did you miss me? She didn’t think she could handle it if you said no.

She settled for something far more simple.

“Hello, love.”

The magical light in the man’s eyes settled into a dim glow as your own light faded. In Karlach’s mind, she pictured the look on your face. Euphoria. Pure joy that she was back, you could both enjoy the life you had always talked about. Perhaps, if you were truly feeling it, a small tear born from happiness. Her mind ran rampant with images of you running toward her, throwing your arms around her shoulders and holding her so tight you were both of one mind, body, and soul.

It wasn’t what she got.

You turned slowly, and more and more of your face was revealed to Karlach. Inch by inch she saw you. It was like the worst play she had ever seen in her life. She got to see the snarl of your lips ease, turning into something more… pitiful. If you had been anyone else, she would have described it as pathetic. The fist at your side turned into shaking fingers.

The look in your eyes was like a dagger through her heart.

“Karlach?”

Your voice quaked the same it had the night you were bitten. Terrified. Hopeless. Small. There, that was the perfect description for how you sounded. You sounded small. But if there was one thing Karlach had gotten right in her imagination, it was the tear that slid down your cheek.

It just wasn’t happy like she had wanted.

“No,” Karlach finally answered Tav. “I haven’t seen them since then.”

In a move that had always warmed Karlach’s heart, Tav leaned over and rested her head on her shoulder. It was a gentle move, one that had enticed everyone in the group at one point or another. Something that instilled far more calm than it had any right to. And Karlach was falling for it yet again, indicative by the calming of her racing heart. Er, engine.

“You’ll find them,” Tav said softly. “Maybe you’ll find them in the city having tea.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be quite the treat?”

Initially, Karlach had laughed. After how hard she had tried to find you the first time, it was a funny thought. To just happen upon you by chance in the city? It didn’t even matter if it was the Upper or Lower, the thought alone was enough to have her laugh. Wouldn’t that be the best luck in the world?

Perhaps it wasn’t so funny after all.

Karlach did find you having tea in the Lower City. Or, not exactly tea, but she caught you having a drink. She had made it a habit to go by taverns in the evenings not to find you, but to relax. Enjoy the scenery and the social aspect of it all. Having drinks alone in her own home wasn’t quite as enjoyable and, honestly, it made her sad.

So of course she had stopped by the Blushing Mermaid. A simple tavern full of seedy criminals and illicit business. There were nightly brawls, horrible songs, shitty people, and stiff drinks. It was some of the most fun Karlach got into since she had informally retired from adventuring. Few places gave her as much excitement as that tavern.

But when she walked into the tavern and looked for a place to sit, she saw a familiar pair of horns and tail. She didn’t think twice before walking over to where you were sitting. A small table for two, and lucky for her, the second seat was empty.

“Mind if I join you?” She asked.

You flinched.

“Not at all,” you said.

She could feel your eyes on her as she sat down across from you. Well, she didn’t only feel it, she saw you watching her. The same way she watched you. Unblinking. Like seeing you was nothing more than a dream, and if she looked away then you would disappear. Or she would disappear, she wasn’t sure what would be more nightmarish.

You locked eyes even after she sat. It was uncomfortable, to feel like you were staring into her very soul. Karlach would always remember your eyes, she had always gotten lost in them. They had the most miniscule light in them, nearly illuminating them in the dark. Not too different from her own when she heated up.

Gods, she had missed your eyes.

You eventually pushed a tankard toward her. “Here,” you said. “You look like you could use it.”

“Thanks, love,” she said, eagerly taking it and downing it. She did need it.

Uncharacteristically, a barmaid came over to the table and leaned against it. She was pretty. Not just by seedy tavern standards, but just in general. There was no reason she should be by the table. Karlach desperately hoped she wasn’t going to get roped into some ridiculous job.

“Hungry, darling?” The barmaid asked you.

Karlach bristled at the use of the pet name.

But you looked directly at Karlach and waited with expectant eyes. Oh. Oh, that gave her butterflies. Some pretty girl called you “darling,” and you didn’t stop looking at her? You certainly remembered the way to her heart, that was for sure. She did her best to push away the, well, other thoughts from her mind.

“Whatever’s hearty,” Karlach told the barmaid who looked none too happy to be talking to her. “And keep the drinks coming.”

“Put it on my tab,” you told the barmaid as she started walking off. She gave you a smile that quickly turned into a scowl when she looked at Karlach.

“The staff know you well,” Karlach said once she was certain you weren’t going to talk first. She supposed she couldn’t blame you.

Only a few weeks ago, you had probably thought she was dead.

“I spend a lot of coin here,” you said. “Talk flows like beer, for the right price.”

“And you’re looking for talk, are you?” She tried to sound flirty. Maybe it was foolish, but she wanted you to flirt back. Even for just one evening, she wished to act like nothing had ever happened.

“I’m looking for the bastards who ruined my life,” you said.

So, flirting wasn’t back in the picture just yet.

“Right,” Karlach said as she sat up straight in the chair. “I suppose that’s worth the coin.”

“And some,” you said softly.

Your left hand stayed resting on the table as you lifted your own tankard to your lips. Karlach cursed the wooden mug. It hid her view of your pretty lips from her. At least it forced her to look elsewhere. Like your hand. There were more scars than she remembered. Little ones ravaging your fingers. She wished she could have been there to kiss them better as they healed.

She wished you would let her kiss them better now.

You both smiled politely at the barmaid when she came around and set the food and wine on the table. The tavern continued to rage around you both as neither of you were willing to make the first move. Behind her, Karlach heard the start of a fight. She desperately wished to watch. Or join in.

“You should eat,” you finally said, gesturing your head toward the warm bread and stew. “Coming back from the dead must be exhausting.”

There it was. Karlach knew it would come up at some point, especially if she managed to get as close to you as she was in that moment. But knowing that it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less. To see the borderline betrayal in your eyes when you looked away quickly, focusing on anything but her.

She reached out to place her hand on top of yours in the best form of comfort she knew. You looked at her hand, and for a moment your face softened. For a moment, there was a small spark in your eyes again. Underneath hers, your hand turned around and pushed up, forcing both of your palms together. Karlach had always loved comparing hand sizes; it gave her an excuse to hold your hand.

The moment disappeared when you pulled your hand back and placed it in your lap.

“I wasn’t dead,” Karlach said softly. She hoped you couldn’t hear the hurt in her voice.

“Then where were you?” You asked, “Because you certainly weren’t here.”

There was no way to tell if you were actually tearing up, or if Karlach simply wished you were. She wanted you to have missed her. Not to hurt, but to miss her touch. To miss her smell, or waking up beside her, or even just being near her. She was desperate to know you had missed her as much as she had missed you.

She wanted you to have loved her that entire time.

“You ready for a long story?” She asked.

You nodded once, and the tale began.

Karlach knew, more often than not, that she rambled when telling stories. A lot of times she would even over-embellish to make the tale more exciting, or make herself seem more brave, more amazing than she really was. Sometimes her stories involved death, despair, and harrowing adventures that only the great Karlach could escape.

This was nothing of the sort. There were no grand theatrics or tales of grandeur. It was simply the truth. How she had been sold by someone she had trusted with her life. How she had fought a battle she wanted nothing to do with, and finally, by some miracle, managed to find a group of people that she genuinely cared about. And who cared about her in return.

You watched patiently. Gods, Karlach had missed your patience. Whether it was for something small, or large, or insignificant, it didn’t matter. When she would come to you, fuming about something that had happened, you had waited patiently for her to finish her rage before talking her through all those feelings. She missed having you to talk through her feelings with. Dealing with them on her own wasn’t as easy.

Although she almost laughed at how wide your eyes got when she talked about the whole tadpole thing.

“You all knew what was going on in each other’s minds?” You asked.

“Yup,” Karlach said, popping the “p” loudly. “Things got real interesting when the feelings started to come out.”

“No doubt you got a front row seat to some rather raunchy nights,” you said with a smile and the lightest laugh.

Oh Gods, Karlach could melt right on the spot just from that sight.

But the smile and laughter quickly died down, and you set your jaw once again.

“Gortash told me you never showed for duty that morning,” you said without any emotion. “Said it right to my face.”

So that’s what he had said. From the moment Karlach had gotten back to Baldur’s Gate, she had wondered what everyone had been told of her sudden disappearance. Had they been told that she had died on the job? That some mysterious warlock had taken control and kidnapped her? Surely he hadn’t told the truth that he had sold her for his shiny new toys.

She hadn’t expected something so… mundane.

“I would have never left without warning,” she said softly.

You chuckled humourlessly. “I knew that,” you said, “and so did your parents.” You let out a deep sigh. “But neither Gortash nor I could offer any proof one way or another.”

The noise of the tavern was more rowdy now that it was getting later into the evening. You were looking out into the crowd, and Karlach saw the strong set of your jaw. The twitch of your ear. She tried not to lose her cool when your tail brushed against hers. Keep yourself calm, Karlach, she told herself, you’re finally making progress. It didn’t help that your tail intertwined with hers and stayed that way.

“And you killed him?” You asked, finally looking back at her.

Angry you was a sight to behold. It got Karlach all hot and bothered.

“I did,” she said proudly. “Even put his head on a pike for shits and giggles.”

“Good,” you said with a nod. “He deserved worse.”

In all honesty, Karlach agreed with you. Gortash deserved worse than death. She wished she could have put him through everything she had been forced to go to. To have him fight a historical war, have him fear for his life every second of every day. Force him to live each day not knowing if the people you loved were safe.

But she didn’t want to be thinking about Gortash. Not that night. She wanted to be thinking of you. To sit with you, and enjoy being in your presence once again. It was a long shot, but she wanted to feel your hand in hers. There had been many years between your last meeting, she wanted to rediscover everything about you like it was the first time.

In short, Karlach wanted to fall in love with you all over again.

“Are you busy in a few nights?” Karlach asked.

Your head tilted to the side. It was adorable. “What?”

“Are you busy?” She asked again.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you stammered. “Why?”

“Well,” she started, drawing the word out. “I know it’s been, ah, a little while.” She ignored the roll of your eyes. “I was wanting to go on a date.” You kept looking at her. “With you.” Silence. “We would go together.” A twinkle in your eye. “You can stop me at any point.”

Your stunning smile returned. A small smile, one that, in the past, had accompanied trouble. Gods, she loved you. She was willing to put in all the effort necessary to rekindle that romance, but she loved you. Every little bit of you. From the tip of your horns to your toes.

And she very much loved the way your fangs got caught on your lips.

But that smile fell again. Karlach wished she could have a painting of your smile so she could look at it whenever she pleased. You were far more serious this go around. The same air of triviality was gone, replaced with something Karlach wasn’t entirely sure she liked. Something had hurt you. It had hurt you deeply, and she didn’t quite know how to help.

“You don’t want a date with me,” you finally said.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Karlach tried to stop you. “I missed you every moment I was gone.”

“You missed someone who no longer exists,” you said. “That person died with their Oath.”

“You’re more than an Oath, lovely,” she said softly as she leaned forward on the table.

“You miss someone who laughed,” you continued. “Someone who had kindness in their heart and wanted to keep everyone safe.”

Karlach stayed silent.

You leaned forward on the table to match her posture. “I want to catch the bastards who ruined my life.”

“Then I’ll help you,” Karlach said. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got some extra muscle to use.”

You shook your head. “You’re not understanding.”

“Then explain it to me,” she said. “Because I spent over a decade away from you, and I’d like to try and get some of that time back.”

“I want to watch the bastards burn,” you said. “And I don’t care who burns with them.”

The very tone in your voice was enough to freeze Karlach to her core. That was an unusual feeling. It was uncomfortable. She wouldn’t dare change her mind, but she had the eerie feeling that you were right. You weren’t quite the same as the person she had fallen in love with in her younger years.

You finally reached out and placed your own hand over hers. Karlach exhaled deeply and looked down. You were touching her. You were all but holding her hand. And she had been right, you ran cooler than her now. It was a wonderful contrast, something that sent a shiver down her spine. Oh, she wanted to feel your hands all over her, holding her tight and never letting go.

“You have a big heart, Karlach,” you said softly. “And I never stopped loving you.” Karlach felt her engine stutter. “I will not taint the very thing I love about you.”

She watched, motionless, as you stood up from the table and walked over to her side. Without the hint of fur, you looked more like she had remembered. Soft, warm, utterly beautiful. And when your lips pressed against her cheek, she wanted to cry. It was one thing to imagine the feel of your lips again, but now that she had it? She would kill to keep it.

“Stay away, Karlach,” you said when you stood back up.

You carelessly dropped some gold on the table, gave her one last look, and left the tavern. Once again, you had disappeared on her. The tavern was full, more full than she had seen in months, and she felt alone. She had watched you walk away again and still couldn’t bring herself to follow you and beg you to stay.

It didn’t take long for Karlach to realise what you had meant when you said you didn’t care who you took down in your journey. At most, it was only a tenday later that she got wind of the explosion at an old abandoned church. The explosion had killed a dozen people, three of them children. Stories made their rounds around the city of a tiefling with scales and dark spells.

Karlach knew in her heart of hearts that it was you.

She tried to catch you in the act. Fuck, she tried for months to catch you. The whole gang had even come together to try and help, keeping their eyes out for any sign of you. The only one who managed to find out part of your intention. When you had mentioned the “bastards who ruined your life,” you were talking about the local pack of Werewolves. Which made sense, as far as she knew, they were the ones who had attacked when you were younger.

The only thing none of them could piece together was your methods. Sometimes they would find the remains of a Werewolf, other times they would find unrelated bodies. How had you managed to continue moving around the city when it was fairly well known that you were, at the very least, a suspect? Did you know, or did you simply not care?

Karlach didn’t know what to do. She knew you were good. She knew you. Broken Oath or not, you wouldn’t change completely. You wouldn’t ruin your life for revenge, that wasn’t in your nature. And even if it was, Karlach believed in you. Nothing could have pushed you that far.

Regardless, Gale and Shadowheart convinced her to have her axe coated in silver. Just in case.

“I think I know where your little killer will be,” Astarion said during their regular dinner at Karlach’s house.

“Where?” She asked quickly. “Are they okay?”

“I believe they’re fine,” he said nonchalantly. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. “Hells, word gets around the monster world. You should be asking if everyone else is fine.”

“Astarion,” Karlach warned.

“Alright, fine,” he sighed. “There’s a party in half a tenday,” he said. “A large portion of Were creatures are supposed to attend.” He picked something out from between his teeth. “Word underground is your little darling will be there.”

Karlach practically jumped into the seat across from Astarion. He didn’t even flinch; it was rather big of him. Sometimes, whether he intended to or not, he seemed a little wary of her sporadic movements. Maybe it was because he couldn’t predict them, or maybe she was just too loud. She didn’t know. But now, after so long together, he didn’t even budge.

She was so proud of him!

“How confident are you in your source?” She asked.

He laughed. “Darling, it’s not a source,” he said. “It’s coming from a friend.”

“Sorry,” she said softly. “I just want to help them,” she said. “Before they do something they regret.”

It was deeper than that. Hells, everyone knew it was deeper than that. Even Astarion, who made it a point not to see the deeper meanings of things, could see right through her as if she were glass. She didn’t just want to keep you from doing something stupid. She wanted to get back the life she had with you before everything went to shit.

She just wanted you back.

Astarion’s hand was cold on hers, and she looked up to see he had moved closer to offer a rare display of physical comfort.

“How about I do some digging myself, hmm?” He asked. “After all, I am rather charming.”

“Just don’t push them,” Karlach said with a smile. “I can’t guarantee how they feel about vampires.”

Astarion laughed. It was a nice sound. “Lucky for me, I’m simply a spawn.”

It was rather lucky for Astarion. It was only a few nights later that he came to see Karlach, out of breath and uncharacteristically shaky on his feet. You were very much not entirely okay with vampires, but you gave him a pass. He relayed your message - telling her to stay away, as if she would actually do that - and offered to join her at the party.

She quickly agreed it would be best.

Acknowledging that she might need help was a hard pill to swallow. There was no chance, no way in the Hells that she would have to do anything to stop you. She wasn’t foolish, but she knew her worth. If she could just get you to listen then it would be fine. You could both enjoy the party and then ride off into the sunset.

When the evening of the party came around, Karlach felt rather pretty. Her dress was gorgeous and it could hide a few weapons. Beside her, Astarion looked as handsome as always, and they both appeared at the party as if they had been personally invited.

Well, technically Astarion had been, but Karlach enjoyed feeling like she was sneaking in. It was more fun.

The party itself was swinging. All the energy in the air changed the moment Karlach and Astarion stepped into the underground hall. If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn it was a ballroom in one of the above ground castles. Gods, she was in love with it. The architecture, the people, the energy. She wanted to grab Astarion and just dance the night away.

“Shall we?” Astarion asked as he held his hand out for Karlach to take.

“Oh fuck yes,” she said eagerly.

For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the last time she had had quite as much fun as that evening. Children were laughing, people were talking, the mood was light and airy. Hells, a few kids even asked her for a dance. Her! Could you believe it? She certainly couldn’t, and it was made even more hilarious when they asked Astarion next.

Karlach excused herself for a moment to grab something to drink. Dancing was exhausting, and she was parched. At that moment, she didn’t care if it was wine, beer, or simply water, she just needed a small break. A small drink, then she could get back to the party and have her fun. Gods, she wished you were there with her-

-oh.

In all the excitement, she had nearly forgotten why she was at the party in the first place. It wasn’t for a fun and exciting date night with Astarion, even though she would certainly take him up on the offer again in the future. She was there to keep people safe. To keep you safe.

More children laughed.

Oh boy.

If you were truly around, she needed to find you. She needed to get to you before anything happened, if anything even was going to happen. Her feet carried her around the giant hall, allowing her to look in every crook and cranny for anything potentially dangerous. The entirety of her heart hoped she was wrong and you weren’t there, you were simply upset.

Her mind wasn’t so convinced.

The hope was starting to take over when she approached the final few corners of the hall. There was nothing to be found. No bombs, no barrels, no nothing. Perhaps Astarion’s friend had been wrong and you weren’t there. Wouldn’t that be a miracle? It would give her more time to find you and perhaps talk a bit of sense into you-

“-I told you to stay away.”

Never mind, no time for miracles.

“You know I’m stubborn,” Karlach said as she turned around to look at you. Unlike her, you stayed dressed for business. “You always found it cute.”

“It stopped being cute a long time ago,” you said as you practically stormed off down a hall that Karlach hadn’t noticed.

She followed you instantly.

“Mind sharing your nefarious plan?” She asked once she finally caught up to you. Gods, you could move fast.

“Leave, Karlach,” you huffed.

“You know there’s children up there, right?” She continued.

You pulled up to a stop, and even though she was watching your back, she could see the heavy fall of your shoulders. What were you thinking? Surely you weren’t really going to risk all those people. They weren’t all guilty of whatever you accused them of. It wasn’t possible. This wasn’t you.

It couldn’t be.

“Take your spawn and leave,” you finally said. “I won’t tell you again.”

Karlach stayed frozen in place as you walked forward only a little more, stopping at what appeared to be a book. A… spell book? She didn’t think you had any interest in that subject. You certainly had never shown interest before. Why would you care now?

“What’s that?” She asked as you took a page out of the book.

You sighed and refused to look at her. “A Scroll of Cloudkill,” you answered.

“You can’t use that,” Karlach said.

Her engine froze over when you finally turned to look at her. Your eyes weren’t sad, not really. They were more… resigned. And maybe a little sad. But it was silly, you wouldn’t use that scroll on everyone. It would kill people, you knew that. And you weren’t one to kill people unnecessarily.

“I told you,” you said with a shake of your head. “I don’t care who burns with them.”

Karlach had a moment, only a moment, to make a move. If she stayed there, you would head into the party and kill everyone. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow you to do it, no matter how much she loved you. Something you had always loved about her was her sense of right and wrong.

This was wrong.

She quickly stepped in between you and the hall where everyone was still laughing and enjoying their evening. You were both just far enough away that no one would hear. The look in your eyes changed as you looked at her. It broke her heart. She was determined not to move.

You crossed your arms over your chest and cocked your hip.

“I can’t let you do this, lovely,” Karlach said softly. “They’re innocent.”

“They’re as guilty as I am,” you said.

“Not the children.”

“Not yet.”

Karlach sighed. She had forgotten you were just as stubborn as she was.

“What happened?” She asked you. “What hurt you this badly?”

“Just move,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you tell me,” she argued.

Your jaw tensed. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Just tell me,” she said. “How bad can it be-”

“-I killed your parents.”

Oh.

It could be that bad.

“It was a full moon and I was distracted,” you said with a quivering bottom lip. “Your parents made the mistake of coming to help.”

No. That couldn’t be the truth.

“I slaughtered them,” you continued with a shaky voice. “Just the same as I slaughtered my own parents.” There was a fire in your eyes.

No, no, that wasn’t true. You had loved her parents. They had loved you. You all made up the happiest little family Karlach could have ever imagined. She had dreamed, night after night, of coming home to have everyone together again. Her family was what got her through all those years alone.

“If they-” you pointed toward the party “-hadn’t cursed me, they would all still be alive.”

Karlach couldn’t understand your words. Nothing was adding up. You had always taken precise precautions to keep yourself and everyone else safe during a full moon. She remembered helping you, ensuring the shackles were where they should be and were tight enough to keep you in place. You would have never done anything to risk anyone else.

“They took everything from me,” you said. “My Oath, my family, my freedom.” You exhaled harshly. “I want to watch them burn.”

You had sworn an Oath of Devotion.

They’re an Oathbreaker now.

You weren’t the same.

Karlach stood taller, reaching for the disguised silver sword she had managed to sneak in. She wasn’t the most comfortable with the type of weapon, very much wishing she had her axe, but it would do. Your eyes immediately went to the weapon in her hand, and your shoulders fell.

“I can’t let you kill them, love” she said.

For the first time in a long time, Karlach prayed. She prayed to any and every god that she could think of. Small and large, good and bad, she didn’t care. She just prayed. Prayed for you to come to your senses and come back to her. Come back to her because she loved you, and she couldn’t bear to see you so hurt.

If she looked close enough, she thought she could see a tear in your eyes.

“Fine,” you said softly. You reached over your shoulder and pulled your own sword out of its sheath. “You’ll burn with them.”

Neither one of you were willing to make the first move. Karlach was smart enough to know she didn’t have her weapon of choice, and hopefully you were smart enough to know she had the upper hand when it came to strength. You had never matched her in muscle, instead opting to be more agile. She remembered when you had spared for fun.

This tainted the memory.

You moved first. A heavy overhead chop. Karlach blocked it easily, and you stepped back. But it was enough of an opening, and she went in for it.

Neither of you had the upper hand. Even from the start, she knew you would be evenly matched in one way or another. Karlach had fought in Avernus, but you had the perks of a Werewolf and an Oathbreaker. And, as memory served, you played dirty.

She clenched her teeth when she knocked you back with a blow to the chest. She had simply used the pommel of the sword, refusing to use the blade. But you looked up and her and mumbled a few words, and Karlach felt something crawl up her legs. Roots. She was stuck.

You stood up and started walking over. “Stay.”

The engine in her chest raced. She couldn’t let you leave. Frantically, she looked around the small room, looking for anything she could use to either get herself loose or- aha! Karlach reached out and grabbed a chair. A quick prayer left her lips - both for you and herself - before she threw it.

The noise you made when the chair hit your back would have been comical if she hadn’t been trying to stop you from committing potential genocide.

The blow was enough to ruin your concentration, and the roots slithered back down Karlach’s legs, freeing her once again. You looked at her once, only once, before turning back toward the party. Now that was just fucking rude. You couldn’t even give her more than a glance after that?

She ran up behind you and, before you could fight back, wrapped her arms under yours and locked her fingers behind your head. You growled; a sound that normally would have gotten Karlach all hot and bothered. Pain radiated through her leg when you kicked out, hitting right above her knee.

Just for that, she pulled her arms higher, lifting you off the ground.

“Let me go,” you groaned between clenched teeth.

“Promise you’ll stop,” Karlach said into your ear. “Promise we’ll go home.”

For a moment, you stopped struggling, and Karlach let herself get hopeful that you agreed. She could get over all of this. She could forgive all of this. It was a simple fight, lots of couples had fights. Sure, it had been building up for over a decade so it was a little… nasty… but it was normal. You could both go home and work it out another way. A sexier way, even.

But her hopes were too high. Again. When Karlach had let her guard down, you kicked out again. Your boot connected with her hip, and instinct had her doubling over to protect the spot. It was all you needed to get out of her grasp and turn back around to face her.

The silver sword was right beside her foot. All she would have to do was grab it, and you wouldn’t be going anywhere. All she had to do was subdue you, and then you couldn’t fight back. You couldn’t get into the party, and you would listen. But she didn’t think she could do it. She couldn’t hurt you.

You turned away from her and, once again, slowly headed toward the party.

A groan left your mouth before the sword clashed to the floor again, quickly followed by the sound of your knees hitting the cobblestone. Blood flowed freely from the newly created wound on the back of your knee. It was a disgusting black colour, not typical of you at all.

Then again, nothing was typical of you anymore.

Karlach limped in front of you and picked up the sword once again. You clenched your teeth and looked up at her in shock. She had hurt you. No, she had made you bleed. She had used silver against you. It would take you months to heal from the wound, and that was assuming things went well.

The very thought made her chest ache.

“You were supposed to be the same when I got back,” Karlach said slowly. “Everything was different, but you were supposed to be the same.”

You stayed silent aside from the occasional groan.

“You know the pathetic part?” She asked. It was a rhetorical question. “If you agreed to go home with me right now, I would forgive everything.”

Something lightened in your eyes. She knew better than to hope for the better.

“I would forgive you for trying to kill children,” she continued. “All because I love you.”

You looked away.

“The thought of you got me through Avernus,” she said. Her hip ached. “The thought of you gets me through now.” She sighed. “Because they may have taken my physical heart, but you’re my real heart.”

“Karlach- hey!”

Pink ropes circled your body and constricted. You groaned when they tightened again. Karlach hadn’t done that. She didn’t even know any of those spells. Footsteps came up behind her, quickly giving way to Astarion; who just so happened to be holding a scroll.

“Stop spewing poetic,” Astarion said, “it’s beneath you.”

“Spawn,” you spat out.

“Mutt,” he shot back.

“Why are you here?” Karlach asked.

“Party’s over,” he said, “The Watch is coming.”

Oh Hells, there was just no room to breathe anymore, was there? She was trying to open her heart to you! She was trying to change your mind! They needed to butt out and let her grieve!

“We need to go,” Astarion said.

She looked down at you. The smallest trickle of blood was falling from your nose; no doubt from the constricting ropes that continued to tighten. If she left you, The Watch would catch you. It was clear everyone knew you were guilty of one thing or another. What wasn’t clear was if The Watch would rather protect you or the Underground.

Oh Hells.

“Come on, pup,” Karlach said as she grabbed you and threw you over her shoulder; much to your protest. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Must we take them?” Astarion asked.

“If we leave them, they’ll turn you in for scraps,” she said after she started walking down the hall.

“I’d turn him in for free,” you mumbled.

You grunted when the ropes constricted again.

“This scroll is glorious,” Astarion commented.

Oh Hells. Karlach was not looking forward to whatever was about to happen.

Well. In some roundabout way, at least she got you back. Some demented version of you, sure, but… Mum always had taught her beggars couldn’t be choosers.

[pit-and-the-pen]

The Art of Dancing in the Rain

Summary: Eris needs to unwind, reader has the best idea to do exactly that.

Eris x summer court reader fluff

WC:1.5k (short and sweet)

A/n: As a Florida girly, playing in summer rain is so nostalgic that I had to write about it. Also I live for soft sweet vanserra brothers.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list general or character specific

Eris was about ready to tear his hair out.. He wasn’t even supposed to be doing work but when Tarquin had handed him the stack of parchment, he couldn’t exactly say no. So that was how he ended up holed up in your childhood bedroom. Windows thrown open at the hopes of chasing in some semblance of a breeze. His skin felt sticky, unused to the summer heat.

Mind reeling with the half-assed documents in front of him. Trade agreements that had so many loopholes, it was a miracle the paper they were written on didn’t resemble swiss cheese.

The two of you were supposed to be visiting with your family. Which is where you were. Probably playing with your sister's new babe. The whole time during her pregnancy Eris would listen as you babbled excitedly about all the things you would do with the baby, hearts practically forming in your eyes. The moment she had gone into labor you had Eris winnow you both and the several bags of presents for the little tot. You had left to give the new family time to settle but you could only stay away for a few months, refusing to miss any major milestones for your precious niece.

You had been particularly excited to show off the little strawberry covered swimsuit you had found, ignoring Eris’ reminder it would probably be too big for the infant. And that the water would be far too cold to swim in at this point in the year.

So here Eris was cursing his dead father for the millionth time. This time for his utter lack of organization. For making him have to take time away from his excited mate and her family. He would love nothing more than to see you playing in the waves, splashing around with the small bundle in your arms.

A small knock on the door startled Eris from his musings. He jumped slightly before he recognized your signature knock. The only one he never had to answer to. Just like he expected, you slowly opened the door and searched the room for him. Your breathtaking smile was enough to make him put down his paperwork. Returning it wholeheartedly.

“Pumpkin, what are you doing here?” He asked, a smile not fading from his face. You crossed the room in a few steps, the light fabric of your dress catching on the wind that had not been flowing through the room a few moments ago.

“Do I need a reason to check on my favorite person?”

“I didn’t realize the babe was in here.” He made a show of looking around the room, like he might be able to find the small child

“Well the biggest babe is in front of me right now” He shot you a fake scolding look that made your head tip back in laughter. “I wanted to check on you, you said it wouldn’t take long and that was hours ago. I had to make sure you weren’t wasting away.” You closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his waist. You head resting perfectly against his chest. His hands came up to rest on the small of your back and he placed a small kiss to the crown of your head.

“I should be done here soon, sweetheart. Go spend some time with your family.” He muttered but only squeezed you tighter. You looked past him, eyes glancing out the window before a breathtaking smile graced your face. You looked back to him and held up a tentative hand out to him.

“Do you trust me?” You asked simply. He didn’t hesitate.

“With my life.” He swore and you wrapped your hand around his and started pulling him out of the make-shift office through the giant sliding glass doors in the room. They opened right onto a small private beach and he tried not to grimace at the unfamiliar feeling of sand under his feet.

“Okay, now that you’ve got me here,” he wiggled his eyebrow at you, “what are you planning to do to me.” He was rewarded with another sweet giggle. When you stopped, you got silent. Waiting for something he realized. That familiar twinkle in your eye that told him you were scheming.

“Just stand here. Should be any second now.” And as if on cue a loud crack filled the sky and Eris vaguely felt something cold and wet drip down his scalp. Then another, and another until suddenly the sky opened up, the downpour of cool summer rain. You let out a sound of pure joy at the feeling of it against your skin. Your dress was already starting to cling to your skin and your hair was already starting to fall into your face.

“We should go inside my love.” Eris spoke up with a shake of his head, trying to free himself from the spell that you seemed to be casting on him.

“Dance with me?” You said a little too loudly, trying to be heard over the loud rain. He cocked his head slightly, swearing he must have heard you wrong. Huffing slightly, you grabbed his hand and gave his arm a tentative swing. Still not entirely getting the hint, you pulled him close to you and threw your arms around his neck. You started swaying slightly and Eris, with practiced hands, came to rest on your waist.

The two of you rocked back and forth, swaying to an invisible song until he leaned down close to your face. “If you want to dance, who am I to tell a beautiful female no?” You didn’t even have time to think of a response before he grabbed your hand and raised it over your head, swinging your body in a dramatic circle. He wanted to drown in the sound of your answering laugh. It warmed his body against the chill of the rain and he spun you once more just to hear that sweet sound again. He spun you around until you were dizzy and needed to lean against his chest for stability.

The small swaying motions quickly turned into a broken waltz. Nothing court worthy as the wet sand made it hard to find your footing but he got to hold you close so he wasn’t going to complain.

As the rain continued to pick up, you started to hum the melody of your favorite song to dance to. He couldn’t help his own laugh that flowed out of his mouth, your joy too infectious for him to feel silly about his current actions. He loved his hands to your waist and lifted you off your feet and into the air in a graceful arc.

When he placed you back on your feet, you wrapped your arms around his neck again and pulled his lips down to meet yours. You tasted like you mixed with the taste of the fresh raindrops that freckled your face and lips. He instantly felt drunk off the taste and pulled you closer against him, tipping your head back slightly to deepen the kiss.

The two of you stayed out for well over an hour. Spinning and laughing and kissing. Until the sky started to lighten and the downpour slowed down to a trickle. You were panting slightly, worn out between the heavy giggling and movement of your dancing.

You pulled his forehead down to rest against his. “I love you, Eris” and the reverence those four words heod as they flowed off your tongue was enough to make his knees weak.

“And I love you sweetheart.” He continued to sway the two of you back and forth until the rain had completely ceased before dipping you low enough for the tips of your hair to dip against the damp sand. He pulled you back up to him, your chest bumping against his and he put a single finger under your chin and placed a sweet kiss onto your lips. Pouring all his love into that point of connection. When he pulled away he couldn’t look away from your eyes. Bright and so full of energy that he truly couldn’t believe you were his.

He was still in awe every day of your beauty and the unabashed way you felt your emotions. Today it was joy and he felt that same feeling mirrored in his own face as he pulled your head against his chest, more so embracing now than dancing and whispered a quiet, “thank you” into the crown of your head. He couldn’t say all the words he wanted to but he hoped you could hear the meaning behind those two. Thank you for loving me, thank you for showing me that goodness still exists in this world , thank you for being with me when I was in a bad mood, and thank you for reminding me how it is important to enjoy the little things like dancing in the rain.

“No, Thank you” Thank you for letting me love you, thank you for loving me back, thank you for still believing in that good and working so hard to make sure it’s still there, thank you for coming out with me and sharing this moment with me. Those words held so much more meaning than either of you could either find the words for but the two of you felt them all the same. As the two of you swayed until the sun started to set along the sea, Eris wished he could bottle this moment and carry it around with him for the rest of his life.

Tagging the Eris fans now that it’s not 1 in the morning (hopefully) @daycourtofficial @secret-third-thing

[calxide]

⸻ SLEEPLESS NiGHTS 💤

kazuha x gn!reader | 500+ words ; no pronouns used for the reader. i, literally, cannot sleep so i wrote this fic pls help. written in lowercase. not proofread pls just let me sleep already. words: milk, punch are mentioned. sleeping tgt. god when will i have this. just pure fluff, some brainrot, and definitely no sleep for me.

“i can't sleep.”

it's past two in the morning, yet here you are, standing in front of a dazed, closed-eyed kazuha — a plushie in your arms, blanket on your shoulders, and an oversized pajama.

kazuha tried his best to force his eyes open. but he fails, so he just sends you a smile.

“come in.” kazuha almost hit his head on the doorframe when he turned around to make way for you to get in.

you plopped yourself comfortably on his sofa. “sorry, i had a terrible sleeping schedule last week. now, i can't get it out of my system.”

you've been pulling all-nighters last week because of the hell-stack of schoolworks you had to do, and now, you couldn't bring yourself to sleep, so you decided it's best to show up at your best friend's door at 2 am since you live in the same building anyway.

kazuha chuckled and went to the kitchen. “milk?”

“sure… i'll take anything to make me pass out.”

“a punch then?” he joked.

“why not?”

a few minutes later, he comes back with two glasses of milk in his hands. “here you go, sleepyhead.”

“you're the sleepy one here, dummy.”

“fake it til you make it, they say,” he joked and took a sip from his glass.

as soon as you both finished drinking, kazuha offered to bring it in the sink. after a while, he came back with a blanket enough to fit you two in—enough to cover the sofa you were sitting on.

you raised an eyebrow as if asking what's his plan for the night. kazuha simply shrugged, sat beside you again and covered you.

the blanket was fluffy. it was warm to be under the blanket, and even warmer with kazuha by your side.

you noticed him drifting off. kazuha has been a victim of your sleepless nights for quite awhile now, but he doesn't seem to mind. sometimes he'd ask you to tell him stories so your problems would come off your chest, sometimes he'd be the one to tell tales for you to fall asleep.

but tonight, kazuha's clearly tired, he's completely dozing off. his head was hanging and you're worried he might actually fall off the sofa.

“you can sleep on my shoulder, you know,” you whispered your offer. “or like, just lay your head on the sofa.”

without thinking much, kazuha immediately made himself comfortable using your shoulder as his pillow. you wondered if he had forgotten you were the one who he was supposed to help fall asleep.

although, you don't really mind. sometimes, it's not bad to lend a shoulder to a friend, literally.

you and kazuha just stayed like that for who knows how long — it was quiet, the comforting kind, with the only source of noise coming from the air-conditioner.

you examined his peaceful sleeping face. kazuha looked beautiful as he always does.

you smiled as you felt your heart flutter. ah, silly thoughts.

“good night, kazu,” you mumbled.

you planted a kiss on kazuha's hair, then laid your head on top of his. yawning, you finally felt the melatonin kicking in. and so, you drifted off to dreamland.

kazuha shifted his position a bit and smiled as if he was dreaming. “sweet dreams, y/n.”

NOTE hello hahahahaha 5 months in in 2024 and im back just because my eyebags are insanely bad and i havent had an 8-hour sleep since god knows when (exaggerated but u get my point) plzzz wait for me school is almost done. thanks hope i can fall asleep now... p.s. i havent written anything for so long now so i apologize...

[strwbrryeyes]

☼ intro (end of the world) ☼ (kageyama tobio x reader)

⟡ cw: she/her pronouns used but not much, lmk if i miss anything else

⟡ a/n: i have been wanting to write for this album since the day it came out so im gonna do little drabbles for the songs as a way to make up for my lack of writings/requests that i actually need to upload so i hope you all enjoy it :3

⟡ eternal sunshine masterlist

You had been dating Kageyama Tobio for a little over a year at this point. Everything was always moving so fast…for him. While Kageyama was constantly playing volleyball and traveling the country for official matches, you were in college working towards your dream career.

Although you and kageyama have made so many efforts to keep in contact regularly by video calling and texting constantly or even travelling to see each other when possible, it has been difficult to come to terms with the fact that you do not spend as much time as you want to with each other. It has gotten to the point where you don’t know if keeping this relationship going is even worth it anymore. Both you and Kageyama want to get through it, you have had countless talks about wanting it to work out and you both always come to the agreement that neither of you wouldn’t trade anything for the world.

You think you’re meant for each other but you keep thinking to yourself ‘why dont i know that he is the one for me? Why do I only think it?’ but of course, you shake it off and continue on with the relationship. Even with all of these thoughts of figuring out if you are supposed to be with him for life or not, there are moments where the tough times make the good times worth it…and that is what keeps the both of you going. One of those moments was on your birthday a few weeks ago when Kageyama decided to surprise you with a visit.

☼ ⋆。𖦹˚⋆

After a long day of classes and your job at a doggy daycare, all you wanted to do was lay down in your bed with some comfy pajamas, eating chips without regard for the crumbs that would land on your bed sheets all while watching your favorite reality show. It was a pretty solid plan but it all went down the drain the minute you stepped foot into the hallway that had your apartment and saw that your door was opened. Your whole body filled with dread as you walked closer, worried that you had just been robbed but as you got closer you saw a small trail of silver confetti leading you through the doorway and as soon as you stepped foot infront of the entrance of your apartment, you stopped all of you belonging onto the ground and ran to the one thing that could be better than a lazy night. Your boyfriend.

“Tobio! What are you doing here?” you ask Kageyama as you jump into his arms while you become a giggling mess (who is also crying).

“I couldn’t have my angel be all alone on her birthday!” Kageyama chuckles as he embraces you in his arms but is quickly confused when you fall silent right after he finishes speaking. “[name]? You good there?” he questions you as he puts you down to be greeted with the blank expression on your face.

“My birthday..?” cocking your head to the side, you look behind Kageyama to see decorations all over your living area, eyes landing on the big ‘happy birthday’ sign. You had completely forgotten today was your birthday. 

“Babe, don’t tell me you forgot your birthday?” Kageyama laughs out before pulling you in for another hug “and you say i’m the dense one.” he flicks your forehead before kissing it and all you can do is laugh along with him.

The rest of the night was pure bliss as you layed in bed with your loved one, eating your favorite type of sweet from your favortie bakery down the stree, while watching your reality tv show.

☼ ⋆。𖦹˚⋆

Thinking about this small but memorable event, you can’t help but smile as it helps you become certain that you and Kageyama are meant to be. You now knew that Kageyama Tobio would be the first and last person you run to if the world were to ever end and honestly, as your pulled out of your thoughts by your ringing phone that is signaling you that your boyfriend is calling you, you wouldn’t have it any other day.

[strawberrywinter4]

May 8 | Prompt: Hobby

“You look horrendous.”

Sherlock’s words thrash Greg’s daze, and he turns to the detective to make sure he heard correctly. “What?”

“I said you look horrendous,” Sherlock repeats, eyes not leaving his device.

Greg holds a scowl, his eyes flickering down to the floor. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

It’s odd that Sherlock would even mention anything other than the case they are currently glued to. They are about to question the suspect that is being brought by other enforcers. In the mean time, Sherlock and Greg have slipped into a peaceful silence in two uncomfortable chairs just outside in the hall. Only now it’s not so peaceful and Sherlock has brought that upon them through insults.

“What I’m trying to make you understand is that you obviously haven’t slept properly in the past week,” Sherlock observes. “When you and your wife were together, that was never an issue.”

Greg has to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Mm.”

“Sherlock,” John hisses as he comes toward them with two coffee cups. “You can’t just say that out of nowhere.”

“Oh, please, John. You were informing me of that viewpoint just last night,” Sherlock says.

Greg’s jaw drops open as he looks between the two men, Sherlock impassive and John embarrassed. “Oh, I see how it is, then!” he says, crossing his arms. “You two just want to have a laugh so you decide to think of ways to gossip.”

“No, Greg. That’s not what this is,” John argues calmly, sending a glare to Sherlock which he ignores. He hands the coffee to Greg, and Greg’s about to deny it in stubbornness before he gets a whiff of the warm goodness. Instead of turning his nose up at it, he takes it, mumbling a ‘thank you’ in the process. “I was only saying that you seemed off, mate,” continues John. “You’ve been digging yourself in cases and that isn’t like you. We’re just worried, is all.”

Greg sighs, his tenseness dissipating. “I know. I’m sorry for snapping, it’s just—”

“It’s fine,” says John, taking a seat next to him. “But…you know, my suggestion is that you find an activity you enjoy or something. Get your mind off work for a while.”

“I second that,” Donovan pipes up when walking towards them. “You look awful, Greg.”

“Yes, thank you,” Greg grits out.

“When you feel up to it, get home, look on the internet,” Donovan instructs. “Trust me, I’m sure you can find a hobby, no matter how weird.”

And Greg does just that. After the case, he heads to his flat and takes a long nap, it nearing 5AM. Once he’s woken up and somewhat refreshed, he scrolls on his laptop.

The first suggestion that pops up is gardening. He could do that.

He sets up a little string of seeds in a row of dirt just outside his balcony. He had asked the man at the shop which seeds he recommended, and the kind man sent him off with various different seeds.

“I’ll name you Toby,” Greg says as he plants a seed he doesn’t know the name of. This should be simple enough.

The plants are short lived when Greg buys a hose and puts it at the wrong setting when watering the plants. It’s at the highest setting and when he turns it on, the weight of the water knocks the wooden bucket of plants off, sending them flying down his balcony. He winces when he hears them crash on a car below, the vehicle honking. Greg rushes inside, trying to ignore the loud cursing that the owner of the vehicle provides.

“How about knitting?” Molly suggests a few days later. “Always calms me.”

“Okay,” Greg considers. “I’ll knit something for you.”

Molly smiles shyly. “I’d love that.”

That activity is short lived as well. Greg can’t hold his frustration for one moment as he constantly pokes himself, gets lost with the tutorial on YouTube, and all in all, the supposed sweater turns out to be a bundle of false direction.

Greg puts the attempted knitting project on the counter in front of Molly.

Molly smiles in pity. “It’s a start.”

“No, it’s shit.” Greg sighs, wishing he could glare at himself. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” says Molly. “How about you find something a little more simple? Something that doesn’t require a set of rules.”

Donovan suggests a hiking trail outside of London. Greg can do that. He can absolutely do that.

“Fuck!” Greg curses when tripping on another long set of weeds. A family passes him, sending him horrified expressions. Greg huffs, sweat dripping down his back. “Yeah, why don’t you take a picture while you’re at it.”

He doesn’t know how Donovan recommended this with such ease, as if it’s the simplest activity in the world. So far, Greg has received numerous scars on his ankles due to sharp ends of rocks and vines, he’s cursed every minute he’s walked (he’s sure he will get kicked out of the park soon), and dizziness from the heat has taken over.

Once back home, he flops on his bed, rolling himself up in blankets. He’s not good at anything. Nothing is for him. Greg shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. Either he’s shit at all hobbies or he’s meant to suffer as a workaholic.

A week later, his neighbor, Mrs. Sue, knocks on his door. When Greg opens it, she’s holding a grey kitten with bright yellow eyes in her hands. Mrs. Sue sneezes several times, putting on a smile.

“Hi, Greg,” she says a bit timidly, her nose noticeably stuffed. “Uh—well, my sister left me with this and I was wondering if you could sit her for a day, only a day. I need to find some place where they will accept cats because I’m quite allergic.”

“Oh,” Greg says. “I mean—yes, of course. I suppose I could sit for a day. What’s her name?”

“Luna,” Mrs. Sue informs, already handing him the cat. “I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

When she leaves, Greg shuts the door and puts the loudly purring cat down. She rubs against his leg, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“Well, aren’t you just a cutie,” Greg comments. “C’mon. I’m sure I have some milk. Cats like milk, right?”

The whole day, Luna is nothing but attached to him. When Greg sits, she settles herself on his lap. When Greg does his light workout routine on the floor, she’s under him when he does push ups and on top of him when doing sit-ups. Greg can’t help but laugh. Even after he’s taken a shower, she’s waiting patiently outside the door, looking up at him expectantly.

Afternoon hits and the doorbell rings. Disappointment admittedly looms through Greg, especially when he looks down to see Luna sleeping soundly against his leg.

He opens the door and Mrs. She is holding a box. “Thank you so much, Greg,” she says. “I can take her now. I found a place.”

Greg blinks, and he’s considering giving her back to Mrs. Sue. Maybe it’s for the best.

But when Luna looks up at him with her big yellow eyes, Greg can’t resist.

“Erm…actually,” he starts. “I wouldn’t—y’know, mind keepin’ her.”

Mrs. Sue’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Greg shrugs, “she’s a sweetheart. I would be happy to, actually.”

Mrs. Sue signs in relief. “Thank god. I didn’t even know if the place I visited would have accepted her.” She smiles. “This works out perfectly, Greg, thank you.”

Once she’s gone, Greg sits on his chair and pats his leg. Luna hops up and begins to purr against his chest. “Guess this worked out just fine, hm?” he says as he scratches behind her ear.

Though it isn’t classified as a hobby, Greg finally finds something that keeps him busy and content. Though Luna’s constant mewing and purring can be annoying at times, Greg is delighted to have another pair of soft footsteps on the floorboard. He’s happy to have some noise other than himself in the once quiet space. He’s glad to have something to come home to, something to look forward to.

——

Thanks for reading! I know I haven’t been following with the prompts, but I’m sick at home and actually have some time to write so I thought I’d do this prompt today lol.

Greg is one of my absolute favorite characters and I love, love, love writing him. I stand by that he’s both an impatient and patient man, but that’s okay! He finally found something that makes him happy.

Prompt by @calaisreno Thank you for making this a tradition of sorts. I loved writing this!

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