#this is also me once again being incapable of shutting up in the tags

[hillerskaroyals]

the anatomy of a hug in young royals

there’s a good chance i’m overthinking this but over my last couple rewatches i noticed something interesting about the way wille hugs and gets hugged. i’ve boiled it down to this general rule:

if the intention of the hug is to comfort wille or is for wille in some way, his arms going around the other person’s waist. if wille is hugging someone else for their sake his arms tend to go around their shoulders.

at first i thought this might just be due to height differences but in both seasons edvin is taller than most of the other actors and it does seem to stay pretty consistent across both seasons.

i did a quick rewatch and tried to capture every time wille is hugged/hugs someone and here’s what i found. (this ended up being hella long so the pictures are below the cut)

s1e1 erik is hugging wille to comfort him (arms around waist)

s1e4 felice is hugging wille to comfort him (arms around waist)

s1e4 lilja annette is hugging wille to comfort him (hard to see but i think his arms around around her waist here)

s1e4 wille is hugging simon as thanks for rescuing him (arms around shoulders)

s1e4 simon is hugging wille to comfort him (not really a hug and wille isn’t an active participant but i still think it works)

s1e5 wille is hugging simon for simon (arms around waist but above simon's)

s1e5 simon is hugging wille to comfort him (arms around waist)

s1e6 wille is hugging himself for comfort x2 :(

s1e6 wille is hugging simon for simon to show him he still cares (arms around shoulders)

s2e1 wille is hugging himself in erik’s jacket both as a way to comfort himself as well as to feel close to his brother :(

s2e1 hugging alexander to comfort him/welcome him back to the school (arms around waist)

s2e1 hugging felice bc reasons (tbh probably as thanks for being a good friend and being there for him over break)

s2e4 hugging felice in apology for kissing her (arms around shoulders)

s2e5 hugging simon to comfort him about his decision to go to the police and to comfort him if this is their last chance to be together (arms around shoulders)

s2e5 hugging simon to comfort him following sara’s betrayal (arms around shoulders)

s2e5 kristina hugging wille to comfort him since she found him crying in the stairwell (arms not pictured but assumed to be around waist)

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Reunited Part 2

Pairing: modern!Sihtric x you (female reader)

Authors note: it all started with the ask, whether I accept modern!Sihtric requests, that left me deeply thoughtful whether I am really up to it. So my dear @sihtricfedaraaahvicius gave me a little push with a challenging fic request that resulted in my very first modern! Sihtric fic. Initially I didn't think of a continuation of the story, but some of you were very insisting and I'm deeply thankful for that. I have decided to make it a bit longer story. So, this interlude is intended to set the scene for the upcoming parts. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Warnings: fluff, quite suggestive on the borderline with getting smutty, heartbreak, abuse of alcohol

Summary: It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut. Will the reader and Sihtric manage to repair their broken relationship and find their way back to each other?

Part 1

Word Count: 2,043

Leave a comment if you want to be tagged for the upcoming parts.

Tags: @uunotheangel @jennifer0305 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

"Damn it," Sihtric cursed at himself as he watched the door slam shut behind you. Your sudden appearance, followed by an even more abrupt departure, had left him not only speechless but questioning whether you had been real at all or simply a fevered hallucination conjured by his foggy mind after yesterday's party.

He had undoubtedly had a few drinks too many. Waking up this morning, he couldn't even recall the name of the long-legged, dark-haired beauty he found in his bed.

"Uh, good morning, gorgeous," he greeted the girl nestled against his chest with a hesitant smile. "Oh crap, it's late already, I have to rush to the studio. Just slam the door shut when you leave. I’ll call you tomorrow!” 

This had become his standard exit strategy, and it always did the trick. Most of the time, it wasn't even a lie, as he almost always had photoshoots and studio appointments. Sihtric cautiously freed his hand from beneath the girl and, within the next five minutes, he had donned his trousers and shirt before vanishing through the doors, leaving the long-legged stranger in his bed bewildered. He didn't have her number and had no intention of calling her. He never did.

In the beginning, he was driven by a desperate eagerness to forget. He believed that the only way to heal his shattered heart was to quickly fall in love again as deeply and madly as he had with you. However, as time passed, waking up beside yet another imperfect copy of you only made him crave more for the original. At some point, he stopped deluding himself; there was no one who could replace you, so he stopped searching.

Nonetheless, being a famous and handsome fashion photographer had its side effects. His work ensured he was surrounded by women – beautiful, intelligent, and also compassionate women. There always seemed to be someone who believed they could fix him, even when he had no desire to be fixed. At some point, when once again an unsuccessful attempt to mend him had left yet another self proclaimed angel saviour heartbroken and crying, he had enough. He didn't want it anymore. He was what he was: an irreparably broken wreck, an adrenaline junkie, unable of navigating his emotions and incapable of feeling love and affection. He was just inflicting pain on those foolish enough to get close to him. From that point on, his decision was clear – he didn't do relationships. He was good for a passionate one-night fuck, but nothing more, and after a while everyone seemed to know it and accept it.

—-------------------------------------------

"Oh, honey! You're here! I've missed you so much!" Gisela nearly screamed your head off in joy, as she spotted you on her doorstep. You hadn’t seen each other in real life for all five years, but she had remained your best friend. She had been your rock during your darkest days following the breakup, always just a phone call away, ready to listen or simply be there for you, regardless of the time difference. Gisela was the better half of your soul, your moral compass, the anchor that kept you grounded in the tumultuous sea of life. She offered support and solace when you needed it most, asking for nothing in return.

It came as no surprise that, after your panicked flight from the photo shoot, your first instinct was to seek refuge at your best friend's place.

"Oh my goodness! You look like you've been hit by a freight train," Gisela immediately noticed your devastated state. She grabbed your hand and pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I saw him this morning... I couldn't... I ran away," you sobbed, your tears soaking her fine blouse, emotions pouring out uncontrollably.

"Whom did you see? Oh my god! Sihtric?" Realisation struck Gisela as she led you inside her apartment and settled you on her sofa. "Just wait a moment. I'll make you some tea, and then you can tell me everything," she said, heading to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, hidden from your view, Gisela clutched her head with both hands and began to pace around the small room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did this have to happen?" she cursed to herself. "Couldn't he have just broken his damn neck on one of his insane climbing expeditions? I can't let her go through this again. She won't handle it. And she'll never forgive me if she finds out I'm the real reason behind all this mess."

Gisela had never found the courage to tell you that her direct involvement was the reason for Sihtric's decision to break up with you. Initially, there was no point in revealing it, as you would have rushed back to Sihtric. As time passed and Gisela witnessed how hard it struck you, how much pain you endured, and how long it took for you to start halfway functioning again, she couldn't bring herself to confess that she was unintentionally responsible for all this suffering. She had acted with the best intentions, all she had wanted was for you to follow your dream and be happy. The realisation that her good intentions had led to you becoming a miserable and broken version of yourself, someone who had closed herself up and now distrusted everyone, came far too late. 

With the tea ready and after taking a deep breath, Gisela picked up the tray with cups and sugar and returned to the living room. She was determined to do everything in her power to protect you and to shield you from Sihtric and the damage his reappearance in your life could cause you. Gisela had witnessed Sihtric change, and not for the better. By now, she was convinced that it had been for the best that he had broken up with you all those years ago. You had built a successful career, you were beautiful, independent, and respected. Somewhere out there, your prince charming was undoubtedly waiting for destiny to bring you together. If you had stayed with Sihtric and witnessed him turning into the person he had become – a jerk and a fuckboy – you would have been left with nothing but a broken heart.

"Can you believe it? He just called me 'sweetheart,' as if nothing had happened," several cups of tea later, you had managed to calm yourself to the point where you could finally speak without your words dissolving into incomprehensible sobs.

"He's not worth a single tear of yours," Gisela reassured you, taking a sip from her tea. "Believe me, you don't want anything to do with him. He's been changing girlfriends like underwear. Lately, they don't even last longer than one night. I've heard that some of the fashion houses are considering terminating their contracts with him. In addition to fucking every model hired for the photoshoots, he's started drinking quite heavily. There have been a few times of him arriving at the set in the morning so drunk that the shoots had to be postponed. I have to admit he's got a certain talent, and when he's sober enough to hold his camera steady, his photos are quite amazing. But that doesn't make him a good person. You deserve better. You deserve someone who will love and cherish you, and most importantly, respect you."

Gisela continued to speak about an opening of an art exhibition featuring the works of a promising new painter to be displayed in her gallery for the next two months, and how she wanted you to attend and possibly meet someone, but you weren't really paying attention anymore. 

Nothing Gisela had said about Sihtric aligned with your memories of him. Yes, he was impulsive and daring, but he had also been attentive and gentle. You remembered how sweet and caring he had been, making you feel like a goddess. It all didn't make any sense, but then again, you were a living example of his real attitude. He had replaced you with someone else after just one week apart. Gisela was right; he had been a fuckboy, and he likely still was. You didn't want anything to do with him. Or did you?

"Hey, hey! What planet are you on? You're not listening, are you? No, no, no, don't tell me you were thinking of him. He ruined your life and broke your heart. Have you forgotten already?" Gisela nearly shouted, bringing you back to reality.

"I know exactly what you're thinking," she continued, her face displaying an annoyed grimace.

"What am I thinking?" you scowled at her.

"You were thinking that you could fix him. That if you hadn’t left for that summer course, it might have turned out differently…"

You opened your mouth to protest, but deep down, you knew Gisela wasn't far off from the truth. Even if these thoughts weren't explicit, they lingered in the back of your mind, like a faint, elusive haze, beyond words to explain. What if…

"Don't even think about it. I could assemble an entire soccer team of heartbroken girls who thought they could fix him. Do you really want to go through all of that again?"

You shook your head vehemently. No, you didn't. You wouldn't survive another heartbreak. This was one of the main reasons you had remained single over the last five years. You hadn't allowed anyone to get close enough even for the possibility of a relationship. It wasn't for a lack of willing candidates, but Sihtric had left you incapable of trusting anyone, almost paranoid, and you hadn't given anyone a real chance.

—----------------------------------

Sihtric collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows, his body tense with frustration. The long-legged doll had departed, and the cleaning lady had dutifully changed the bed sheets, a daily ritual he insisted on. He couldn't bear the lingering scent of his one-night companions on his bedding. Taking a deep breath, he tried to recall your scent, a fading memory locked away in some remote corner of his mind. It had been so sweet, arousing, delightful, and soothing. After a long night of lovemaking with you, bodies slick with sweat, your scents blending as one, he loved burying his face in your hair and breathing you in, savouring the feeling that he had finally found his home. Something he hadn't felt in all those five years since you had left his life.

And now, you were suddenly back. You were as stunning as he remembered, perhaps even more so. There was a newfound self-assuredness in your demeanour, an aura of captivating confidence radiating from you. Your eyes sparkled with inner strength and poise. 

Sihtric felt his pants grow tighter as the image of you from this morning reappeared in his mind: your lovely face, your sparkling eyes, and sensual lips; your velvety hair cascading down your shoulders; the blouse and pencil skirt giving you the appearance of a madly sexy businesswoman; your hands holding the papers; and your legs in high heels – something he'd never seen you wear before. 

Every detail about you drove him to the brink of madness, as a low moan escaped his lips, his arousal undeniable. He would have sold his soul to the devil for the chance to bury his face between your thighs, to taste you again, to feel your walls clenching around him and pushing him over the edge.

For five years, Sihtric had dreamt of this moment, playing it over and over in his mind, rehearsing what he would say and do if he ever had the chance to see you again. But now that the moment had finally arrived, he had found himself unable to utter anything of significance. He had wanted to stop you, to hold you back, to shout something that would make you turn and face him. Yet his mind had gone utterly blank, and all he had managed to do was watch you storm out of the hall with a tortured expression on his face.

And so, you had left without a single backward glance.

"She hates me. She still fucking hates me," was the only thought consuming Sihtric's mind as his hand found its way into his pants, gripping his painfully hard cock and starting to stroke it with rapid, desperate movements.

[defira85]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @elvenmother thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3? Currently 109

What's your total AO3 word count? Okay WITH THE CAVEAT that I am incapable of writing short fic or ficlets and can only write long fic and have been on AO3 since 2011.... it's 2433956. Yes that is 2.5 million words

What fandoms do you write for? Mostly computer game adjacent - Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Star Wars: The Old Republic, Baldur's Gate 3, Cinders, Critical Role, Avengers (comics verse, not movies), Once Upon a Time, Pirates of the Caribbean, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Stardew Valley, Touchstarved

Top 5 fics by kudos? Recovery Begins (Finn/Poe), A Safe Port in a Storm (Cullen/Dorian), The Courtship of Dorian Pavus (Cullen/Dorian), The Atonement of Cullen Rutherford (Cullen/Dorian), An Empire's Ransom (Ona'la||Jedi Knight/Thexan)

5. Do you respond to comments? I had a bleak period from about 2019-2022 where I was in a black hole of depression and creativity where I wrote nothing and felt a deep shame every time I got a comment on AO3, so there are people I have never responded to, but otherwise I'm adamant about replying to EVERYONE

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm. It could be Grief, a fic about Arcann observing the bounty hunter performing funeral rites for her dead husband. It might also be A Piercing Little Star, which I wrote for the DA Big Bang in 2013 about Leliana and Warden Bethany. And Ten Years Gone, about a very minor NPC couple from DA2, has a bleak ending

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'll be honest, it's Keep Telling Me To Breathe, my Durgetash fic. Purely self indulgent ending there.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not in a long time, but it used to happen more frequently on Deviant Art and on anonymous kink memes. People were more free about being assholes on LJ because they could do it anonymously. A few on AO3 but again, it's been awhile.

9. Do you write smut? Do I write anything BUT smut lmfao. I mean, yes I do, but I love writing smut, so...

10. Craziest crossover? I'm not much of a crossover gal, the closest I've got at the moment would be some multi-Hawke adventures that I wrote back in my DA2 days where one of my Hawkes was running around in universe with a friend's Hawke

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Touch wood but no, not to the best of my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I've had multiple of my Dragon Age fics translated into Russian

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? My co-conspirator @sithrightsactivist will confirm yes, and I'm basically a co-writer with @angelicfangirl on her Calli/Arcann (Swtor) fic

14. All time favourite ship? I don't know if I have one? Hnngh. I guess Ona'la/Thexan because he's essentially my OC at this point in time. I can't read other Thexan fics because I'm like, no, that's wrong, he's supposed to be married to Ona'la. And Elissa/Justice makes me feel a lot of very big emotions because I made her to be a garbage person, an outlet for a lot of my own ugly feelings and self worth issues, and yet someone actually fell in love with her and found her worth cherishing as she was and that stunned me. And Durge/Gortash, I know what I like

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Sigh. It's probably my Stardew Valley fic. Or, no matter how many times I try, my Raina Temple/Shara Jenn||Watcher Two fic (SWTOR).

16. What are your writing strengths? I write GREAT smut. And I do phenomenal worldbuilding

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't know when to shut up. I can't write short fic to save my life. I don't actually know how people write such tight, careful fics in such a small amount of words

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I did it more when I was younger and thought I was being very clever but I know enough now that I know better than to try and butcher other languages like that. I know it reads as clumsy at best to native speakers so I try to avoid it. Unless it's fictional, and then I go ham.

19. First fandom you wrote in? First? Very first? I probably wrote stories about being April O'Neill with the TMNT. I wrote about being batgirl when I was like 8. Otherwise I think it was the Wayfarer Redemption Cycle by Sara Douglass or The Belgariad by David Eddings as a teen

20. Favourite fic you've written? HOW CAN I JUST CHOOSE ONE???? Okay well I'm the most proud of Keep Telling Me To Breathe (BG3) and An Empire's Ransom (SWTOR) changed the trajectory of my life for the better. Also? I'm the only person who's written Justice romance fic, and yes, I do mean Awakenings Justice and not "inside Anders' pretty body" DA2 Justice, so I'll own that

[lamialamia]

Hi there! Secret Santa back with a second message for you.

First of all, thank you for your answers last time, they have been very helpful! I’m still in the process of outlining your fic (I randomly got a shit ton of new ideas and have spent this morning organizing them into a semblance of coherence). It’s been so fun to build this world for you. I thought it would be a struggle since it’s not territory I’ve explored before, but it’s actually been a relief with how fresh it feels to try something new!

That being said, I have a few more questions before I dive into actually full-on writing :)

1. I did some completely normal and not at all weird stalking of your profile and saw your reblog of Sledgfu headcanons, one of which was your idea that Snafu nudges Sledge’s neck. Immediately that sparked something for me and I would love to include that hc in your gift, but I wanted to ask your permission first since it was your idea! It feels a bit too much like theft for me to just use it without checking first haha!!

2. Are you at all interested in receiving the work as a gift on Ao3 when it’s published (as in I actually dedicate it to you and gift it to you)? It’s totally okay if you don’t want a gift work and would just like the link, but I just thought I’d ask in case you want it to feel more like an actual present!

3. And finally, as I’m sure you can tell, I am like…incapable of shutting the fuck up. What I mean by this is that the outline for your gift is already 1.6k words of literal bullet points of underdeveloped ideas and dialogue, so the fully fleshed out and written fic might end up being a bit lengthy (though I intend to keep it as a oneshot). Is this something you’d like me to try to tone down on? I know not everyone is interested in reading something super long LMAO. Just let me know either way, I’ll do my best!

And that’s all the questions! :)

Also, this is just something amusing that happened during this process: my original summary for the fic was almost identical to one of yours, completely by accident. I’m so glad I went and checked out your writing before I ended up leaving it like that. That would’ve been so embarrassing lmao

P.S. Your header image makes me laugh every time I see it, love it!

P.P.S Your tags on my first ask made me so happy! :)

Sorry for bombarding you once again, and I look forward to hearing from you!!! 💞

Hey Secret Santa!!!! <3

I know that feelings when a fic idea gets out of hand, I have been there, I have done that. It's a blessing and a curse lolol

Ok, about your question:

1/ Yes. My hc is not a property but like dandelion seeds I blow into the wild. Anyone can catch it and blow it away. This metaphor is weird. Anyway, yes, pls use any headcanon on my blog as you wish.

2/ Yes. You can gift me the fic on Ao3 :D

3/ As long or as short as you want to write. I love long fic, I love short fic, I love medium fic. Because fanfic is a labor of love so any length is perfect <3 I mean, the fic I'm writing for my giftee is getting long too! but it's about the story and not the WC, ya know.

Thanks for everything <3 love ya

[sneez]

the english civil wars + the onion (1/2)

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

[obae-me]

Upside Down CH-1

Author’s Note: Hi, yes, hello, welcome to the fic series that no one asked for! Do I have other things I need to finish? Yes! But has this been the only thing on my mind for the past four days? Also yes! For some reason I was incapable of writing anything else! Thanks, brain, for this out of the blue obsession! 

Tags: Reverse AU

Word Count: 4587

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Hell Away From Hell

Wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. It had to be. Although, with every clink of your restraints, your reality was becoming ever clearer. The chains rattled, echoing down the hall like a set of twisted wind chimes. Ones that sung of your dismal fortune. The demon ahead of you yanked the lead attached to your cuffs, sending you stumbling forward. You bit your lip to keep from cursing. Steading your body, you took their less-than-subtle message and picked up the pace. Keeping your eyes glued towards your destination, your stomach sank to your knees. Why? Why had you been brought to the castle? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not anything to warrant being escorted by the palace guards in chains. And as they led you silently inside, past the polished halls and gaudy antiques, your fate pounded just fervently in your mind as your heart was in your chest. 

They were going to present you in front of the prince. 

It was torture in and of itself just making it to the throne room. The worst part about it all was your rampant imagination. You could only imagine what type of horrific techniques the prince was aware of. Halting in front of the large double doors, the demon behind you moved to open the entrance. Holding it open, the guard tugging you along guided you in. You managed to take only a few steps inside the room before you were practically thrown inside, your body tumbling over the ground. Both the guards smirked at you, flashing their pointed fangs in their conceited gestures before shutting the door, leaving you alone inside. 

“MC.” All the air inside your lungs had conveniently escaped. Lifting your chest off the ground, you tightened your lips as you met his gaze. Those glistening emerald eyes pierced right through you. Quickly, you lowered your eyes, attempting to show as much respect as you could to gain his favor. 

“M-my lord.” 

The melodic note that left his throat was a mix between a laugh and a coo. “Now, now, none of that groveling. I had you brought here to ask you a favor!” You could hear him stand to his feet, and you watched his shoes approach, clicking against the marbled tile. Then, you felt the smooth skin of his hand caress your right horn. The sudden sensitive feeling had your tail rapidly twitch and tuck under your leg. He pushed your horns back, raising your chin so you could look up at him. His dark hair drifted down across his forehead, curling around his horns that curved above his head like a broken halo, his face soft and inviting, and yet your gut wouldn’t let you believe it. “Please, from now on, just call me Simeon.” 

Simeon hummed as he lifted his tea cup to his lips. He had been hospitable enough, but you still couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Plus...what he had brought you in to ask you was...well, something short of insanity. You continued to rub your wrists where your constraints had been. And as much as the prince of hell apologized for his guard’s brutish behavior, you had a feeling it was purposeful. A message of sorts. Even now, as he had his little servant bring in sweets and tea as sickly sweet as it could get, it all tasted bitter to your tongue. “So let me get this straight,” you started. “You want me to be a member of this…” 

The prince tilted his head, eyes practically shining. “Restoration program.” 

You cleared your throat after the little scone this blonde demon had given you made your throat run dry. “R-right. And I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter?” 

His voice was soft, but the light reflecting off his horns and his fangs suggested another answer. “We all have choices, MC.” 

Swallowing your nervousness, you lowered your head again. “But, with all due respect, sir...why? Why a restoration program?” 

Another voice chuckled behind your figure. “Because, why not?” You strained your neck, getting a view at the newcomer behind you. White hair, a mischievous smile, and something unknown swimming at the back of those dark eyes. Not only that, but the figure was wearing clothes as pure as clouds, with a certain glow to him. 

Simeon stood, hand out to greet this person as if they were an old friend-and for all you knew, they might’ve been. “Solomon, how good to see you.” 

The new guest-now known to you as Solomon-beamed. “Likewise. You’re looking well.” He turned, giving you a once-over to take you in before nodding. “And you are MC, yes?” 

Glaring, already feeling your skin about to burn, you leaned away from him. “And you’re an angel.” Your distrustful attitude let him frown for just a moment, but whether it was just his angelic nature or his personality, that smile was right back on his face. 

“Yes, well, the plan requires an angel, so Simeon personally asked me for my hand in this matter.” 

The both of them could tell that you were unbelievably confused, so Simeon gestured for the angel to take a seat at the table. “Luke.” The prince gestured to his small servant, the one who had not only brought you sweets but had taken the liberty to be staring you down the entire time. Finally, he turned his attention away from you. “Please do me a favor and get our new guest some refreshments.” The lesser demon squinted at you, nearly growled at the angel, and then took his leave with rapid little steps. Simeon laughed quietly to himself. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to others quite yet. But, MC.” With your name mentioned, you straightened your posture. “I’ve been planning this for quite some time. It’s been a desire of mine to bring the three realms closer together.” You couldn’t help but wonder why, what purpose it served, but you kept your mouth shut. “And while I’ve started to make decent progress fixing the old wounds between the Devildom and Celestial Realm, most of my kingdom and Solomon’s people refuse to make connections with the humans.” 

Mortals...even just the mention managed to leave a heavy pit in your stomach. “If I may speak.” You waited for the prince’s go-ahead before speaking your mind. “What would be the point of connecting with the humans? They serve little purpose. They’re either so corrupt they destroy their own kind or they think they’re so pure they isolate themselves or get themselves killed in the name of their twisted justice.” Speaking so passionately against the idea, you didn’t realize your nails had grown into talons, leaving marks in the wooden table. You took a breath, reclaiming your typical form. “They can’t even do themselves any good, what makes you think they’d be good for our realms?” 

Solomon, an expression of understanding mixed with pity, bounced a little in his seat. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He turned his head to Simeon, who was nodding at you with a bit of approval. 

“That’s what this plan is all about. Testing them, observing them. We’ll be watching these humans, and at the end of this project, we’ll be able to determine if they’re ready and worthy of being brought together with us.” The ruler crossed one leg over the other, his tone making it sound as it was as simple as eating pie. 

Setting down the fork to your pastry, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. “And by we you mean?” 

“Why, you and Solomon of course! A demon and an angel, both working together to restore the bond between the human world and ours! The Demonic and Angelic Restoration program! Or D.A.R. -dare- for short.” If it weren’t for the horns, you’d almost think this demon was an angel with the way he eagerly talked about restoring bonds and bettering the nature of the realms. But, then you felt nauseous. 

“What...what exactly do you need me to do to help with this...program? And why me?” 

It was actually the angel that spoke up. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Morningstars?” 

It was such a silly question, you ended up scoffing. “Who doesn’t down here? Those brothers are filled with so much corruption and chaos they end up fueling about half the lesser demons down here...why?” 

They both straight up ignored your question and instead asked you some of their own. Simeon leaned forward, looking at you intently. “It took me quite a bit of time to find you MC. Most people don’t know you exist, and those that do hardly know your name. You simply are known to most as Isolation. Is it true that you’ve never made a pact with a human? Rumor is that you even refuse to subsist off their sins. And you’ve never taken a soul? That’s typically unheard of nowadays.”  

Shifting in your seat, you gave it to them straight. “It’s true. I do whatever I can to avoid contact. Haven’t even seen a human in the past millennia. Haven’t talked to one in about twice that time.” 

Clapping his hands together, Simeon let out an amazed sigh. “Perfect. You will be able to have a fresh eye! A clean slate. An unbiased--well, mostly unbiased opinion. You won’t be tempted to corrupt them, you’ll give me honest answers.” 

“Plus,” the angel agreed, “if you have the strength and willpower to live without human sustenance and influence for this long, you probably will have the patience to keep from killing them. If anyone could manage to live with the Morningstars, it would be you, from what I’ve heard.” 

You were grateful you had put down your drink a while ago. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wait, excuse me, what did you say? Live...with the…” 

“Mr. Morningstar!” A laugh, a handshake, even a pat on the shoulder, it nearly made you ill watching the upcoming king of the Devildom greet a human like this so casually. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at this mortal...one of the Morningstars, the eldest. The one who fueled the most demons without even knowing about it. People down in the Devildom called him by Pride. A human world CEO-whatever that meant. He was powerful, influential, not to mention ridiculously rich. And he’d do whatever it took to keep his status, even at the misfortune of plenty of other people. His suit and posture told you pretty much all you needed to know about him. A fancy well tailored pitch black suit, a striking red tie with a subtle but regal diamond design, diamond cufflinks, the works. It was as if dust and winkles knew to avoid him entirely. His hair was as dark as his suit, save for the ends which were greying. He didn’t seem that old, so you wondered if it was intentional or simply stress. You thought you heard someone say that once, that humans could get grey hair from stress. Did they all possess capabilities to change their hair based on their emotions? That human lady you saw outside the building with the blue hair must’ve been feeling something intense. 

“Mr-” The human you had come to see was cut off. 

“Please, you know to call me Simeon by now!” 

The mortal cleared his throat. “Simeon…” The human glanced at you, and raised his chin as he took Simeon by the shoulders and brought him away from you. If you had been a human, it would’ve been a decent tactic to keep you out of earshot. Unfortunately, you could still hear everything they were saying. “I know you have good standing with the company, and I’m pleased to know you respect and trust me with such a task, but...this is far from business.” You could feel his eyes on you. “I have to respectfully decline your request. I don’t think I can allow them to live with us for a year. You know my family.” 

“It would only be for a year, and I know you have plenty of room in that house of yours!” Simeon laughed a bit and then lowered his voice. You could feel the alluring pull of his influence flood the space. The human stiffened, his intuition picking up on a shift in the room. “Besides, Lucifer. You know I wouldn’t ask for a favor like this without some proper and well deserved remuneration. Listen...I happen to have something on the head of that business owner that’s been butting heads with your company. Wouldn’t it be nice to have them completely out of the picture? Not only is that increasing your profit, but if they happen to...I don’t know, completely go bankrupt, that little building of theirs on the corner of Main is some prime real estate.” Reaching into his pocket, Simeon pulled out a small...plastic...rectangle of sorts, with metal on one end. “I got everything right here.” Smiling, one hand firmly against Lucifer’s upper back, he looked him right in the eyes and whispered something you knew would have this human caught. “You can’t let them bother you like this. You need to show them and everyone else who you are, and that you’re not to be messed with.” 

It took the mortal a moment of internal struggle. Decline the offer and figure things out himself without assistance? Or swallow the smallest bit of ego for self satisfaction? Either way, this mortal was past helping. Already drowning in pride. Eventually, he gripped the object, tucking it into a pocket beneath his suit jacket. Despite being handed assistance, he still found a way to be demanding. “Alright, but no more than a year, and if I feel like anything is going awry, I’m sending them away. Is it really too unreasonable to just set them up on their own? Surely for you it’s no problem.” 

Backing up slightly after his incentive worked, Simeon shook his head. “I would feel endlessly guilty leaving alone, desolate, isolated, after what happened. Poor thing...they haven’t even said a word to me in days.” That last part wasn’t a lie. You’d nearly refused to say anything to him since being dragged to the human world. Prince or no prince. “My poor cousin, suddenly losing all their family like that. It’s tragic, isn’t it? Losing people you love?” 

Lucifer, with his arms folded, let his hand tightly grip the fabric of one of his sleeves. His eyes lowered the slightest touch, his jaw tightening. “It...is...I know it all too well.” You caught a hint of some emotion from the mortal. 

“Then you know that what would be best for them right now is company. Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought them to you if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, this is a win for all parties involved, right?” Simeon gestured to the gift Lucifer had tucked away, and the last string of resistance had been snipped. 

Sighing, the human looked at the luxurious watch on his wrist. “I’ll take them home. Let my brothers know what’s happening. Is it too much to assume they’ll be better behaved with a guest in the house?” 

Laughing once more, the prince shrugged. If only Lucifer knew who he was in the presence of. “You’ll all just have to find out!” Patting the other man on the shoulder, Simeon then came over to you with his arms outstretched. “It’s all settled, MC!” He pulled you into a hug, taking the time to speak quietly to you. “Remember to keep your identity a secret. I’ll be checking up on you and Solomon once a month for a report. Keep them safe. Play nice.” He pulled apart, coming around behind you and settling his hands on your shoulders. “And remember, what Mr. Morningstar is doing is unbelievably nice, so make sure to thank him and keep yourself out of trouble.” 

You broke your vow of silence out of irritation. “I’m not a child you’re sending away to school. I know how to keep my own head on my shoulders.” You attempted to brush his hands off but the grip was tightened. Swallowing your frustration, you kept yourself from grimacing, looking at the fabled Lucifer Morningstar. “Thank you...for letting me live with you.” 

For a human, he had a tenacity for picking up on things. He noticed your lie, giving you a stare down of his own before grabbing his phone. You only recently figured out what those devices were. Simeon had made sure he gifted you one of your own, since apparently it was the main source of communication in this realm. Too strange, but you picked it up fairly quickly. Lucifer just raised his head and pressed his cell against his ear. “Just make sure you refrain from being as irksome as my brothers.” The line he was dialing picked up. “Yes, have a driver prepare to come pick me up. And someone please contact my brothers for me so they know I’m bringing home a...guest.” 

It was going to be a long year…

The...metal contraption rumbled, making your head feel light. Without magic to get around, they had to use...these things. The movement slowed till it came to a stop. Looking out the pane of glass, you peered forward to see what the issue was. A big red circular light shone a bright crimson in front of the lane. Was it a threat? If so, why was the world seemingly filled with them? Then the eye turned green and the long carriage rumbled back to life. It was completely different than the last time you had been here. 

“Before you even step foot in my home, we need to set some ground rules.” Even just the sound of his voice almost physically rubbed you the wrong way. You bit the inside of your cheek. Play nice, the prince had said. How long could you keep your patience around these mortals? You looked up at him, feeling him stare you down to the corrupt depths of your soul. “Since you’re going to be living with us for so long, you’re going to have to follow the same rules I give my brothers? Understand?” 

Was this all worth it? Would having your soul be torn to shreds be that bad? “Yes.” 

He nodded, then decided his attention would be better focused towards whatever he had on that electronic device of his. He gave you orders without even looking at you. No wonder all the lesser demons who fawned after him were so pretentious. “No parties. No pets. You can stay up however long you want, but you must be back at the house no later than midnight. You can have your own room but you must keep it clean, don’t expect me to hire a maid for you. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. I might be providing a roof over your head, but anything you need is up to you. You break anything, you’re responsible for replacing it. Just use the basic level of common sense and we should have no trouble. Hopefully the year will be over before we—oh excuse me.” Without another word he picked another call, his third one since you’d been blackmailed into this ride. You just gave a gentle sigh and stared out the window. Just a few days ago you’d still existed in your botherless existence. A personal utopia of your own making. Now you were in this...hell away from hell, the scent of smog and exhaust still burning the inside of your nose. 

The rest of the ride was spent with you trying to think of ways to escape this fate, but finding none in sight. You didn’t need to fully see the building to get this overwhelming wave of impurity. The tempting allure of sin. Practically a demon buffet. These morons were just screaming to be killed or worse, eaten. Even just approaching the gate to the driveway, you could see remnants of spirits, demons without full forms clawing at the fence. Wisps of black sinking into their sidewalk. But not even those, you could smell the presence of other lesser demons...but more dangerous ones. Outside the gate were small crowds, not too many, but enough to safely conceal their presence. Photographers, journalists, fans, wherever they were, they were eager to get in. And amongst the rabble stood demons pretending to be mortals in an attempt to sink their fangs into one of the Morningstars. You slunk down in your seat, trying to conceal your presence, but you were sure they’d be able to feel you. The car slipped past all of them, approaching the first set of gates. Whoever was patrolling the vehicle pressed their fingers against a small pad attached to a pillar by the gate. It waited for a moment, then made an affirming noise before the gate swung open. The cries of mortal and hidden demons alike pleading for the smallest sliver of attention from this human made you feel sick. 

Despite having nearly ignored you the whole time, Lucifer scoffed. “You’ll get used to it.” The curved metal fence shut behind you, and the sound of the crowd slowly faded as you pulled up in front of the massive house. If anything, it reminded you a little of home. It was an old fashioned looking house, but fanciful nonetheless. With dark stone, piercing towers, arched windows, and an overall gothic aesthetic. You managed to take a moment to breathe. At least there was one silver lining. Lucifer stepped out of the idle vehicle first, paying you no mind as he approached the steps to the door. Slightly panicking, you tried simply pushing the door before noticing the small handle. Pulling it unlocked it, and you rapidly exited, feeling the motion sickness fade with your feet on the ground. You followed the mortal to the door, and was slightly pleased when he put his phone away to open the door, leaving it open for you. Lucifer shut the door, a small high pitched noise ringing through your ears. You turned and watched him mess with a little panel near the door. “Our security is top of the market. I make sure the code is changed every day, so if you’re not inside by midnight, I hope you enjoy camping.” 

You were about to speak up about that, but both of you were bombarded with noise. A noise you would later learn to get used to. “Oi! Lucifer!” A bundle of energy came racing down the stairs. Wild hair, dark skin, rings on nearly every finger, you recognized this individual without having to ask his name. You could feel the influence. Greed. Demons almost loved this brother more than Pride, because from what you’d heard, he’d make deals impulsively with demons without knowing their true intentions. As long as money or something expensive was in front of him, he’d jump for anything. It had gotten him in more than enough trouble, and it made him too much of a prime target. At least Lucifer knew how to look over his shoulder. The second brother confronted the eldest. He didn’t even glance at you. “Hey, I need some cash! For some reason my card keeps declining...you can spot me right?” 

Lucifer didn’t even hesitate. “No.” 

“Eh? Why not?! I did that thing the other day for you, remember?” 

“Hm?” Lucifer tilted his head, taking the time to recall-or pretending to. “Which thing would that be? Would it have been before or after you stole and immediately maxed out my card?” Lowering his eyes, the older one gave off a menacing smile. 

Mammon took a step back, muttering. “O-oh you found about that, huh?” 

The smile turned into a full on yell. “Of course I found out! I got a call from the bank as soon as they saw the purchase! What exactly do you need a golden tiger statue for, Mammon? Seriously, you’re absolutely ridiculous! I returned it by the way, and in the meantime I cancelled all your cards.” Mammon went to open his mouth in anger but didn’t have the chance to say anything. “You can try to find some extra work to pay off all the bills you’ve left me with. And if I think you’re ready, I’ll reopen your accounts in two months.” The effort of shouting sent Pride’s eye twitching. He lifted a hand to press against his forehead, the blood draining from his face. You shifted ever so slightly in your spot and he groaned. “Right, you’re here. Mammon, this is MC.” 

Eyebrows raised, he jumped a little when he finally spotted you were in the room. “Wait, wait, wait, that whole thing with someone staying with us for a year wasn’t a joke?” 

“No.” Although the slight warble to his voice seemed that that fact was just now settling in. “It wasn’t. And since you’ve so kindly volunteered yourself, you can take their bags and show them to their room.” He simply turned. No welcome, no tour, no warmth in those cold eyes of his. 

“Hey! Come back here!” Yet the younger sibling showed no signs of chasing after him. “Lucifer!” His older brother just quickly headed up the stairs and disappeared into the house. Was it really going to require a full year of observation? Just from what you were seeing right now, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Nothing. Mammon ran a hand through his hair, one of his strands getting stuck in one of his rings, but he tugged it out without noticing, like it was a daily occurrence. “I can’t believe this.” You could watch as the anger started to swell within him. “Screw this, I’m out of here!” You were ready for him to leave, to give into his emotions. He had wrapped his hand around the door handle before he stopped. Pausing, he just tutted to himself before shoving his hands in his jacket-pockets, looking in your direction but not fully at you. “You want the guest room we have upstairs or down?” Loud, brash, rude in some ways, but there was a weird sort of innocence about him. You simply shrugged. He nodded, grasping one of your bags suddenly, gesturing you to follow. “I’ll give you the downstairs one. Most of our rooms are on the second floor, so it’s a bit quieter down here, plus it stays cooler.” He led you past the entrance hall and back into the rest of the house. “Plus, it’s easier to sneak out from here, but you didn’t hear that from me. I’m guessing Lucifer gave you the whole rule spiel?” 

You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah.” 

He hissed in air through his teeth. “Sucks, man, are you sure you want to stay here?” 

The pain around your wrists was still too prominent. Etched into your skin was a mark, a line of runes and symbols around your wrists. Who knew demons could give temporary pacts to other demons? Simeon ensured you a small fraction of his power, just in case you ran into trouble. But in exchange he had a hold on you, able to summon you to him whenever he needed you. It was your chain keeping you imprisoned here. There was no running. There was no hiding. “I didn’t have a choice.”

[silversatoru]

the thin line between hope and despair

yelena x gn! reader

synopsis: you’re in love with yelena, and she feels nothing for for you. constant hook-ups and faded morals = very messy feelings

tags/warnings: nsfw, some smut?, angst, unrequited love, one-sided feelings, fuck buddies

word count: 2.5k

a/n: for my my sweet bby girl @brandmeyelena <3

Yelena knows what she’s doing with you isn’t right — on so many fucking levels. Taking advantage of your utter desperation for her over and over again when she knows damn well that she couldn’t care less about you. It wasn’t fair, especially for you, but she just couldn’t really find it in herself to feel sorry for someone so pitiful. You were so willing to devote yourself to her in exchange for mere crumbs of her affection, and it was pathetic. You left a sour taste in her mouth, a taste of sorrow and complete wretchedness, but you were also the perfect distraction. The perfect relief from all of her stress and all of her responsibilities with the volunteers. She was tired, and you were just so damn desperate to make her feel better — so how could she refuse? The answer was simple, she couldn’t.

That exact thought process is what landed her here today, with her fingers around your throat and your eyes rolled back into your head. She knows you love it too, being used like this — the way your cheeks grow flushed and your eyes get foggy when she cuts off the circulation to your brain. But she doesn’t do it for you — Yelena enjoys these things just as much as you do, her power hungry ego being fervently stroked by dominating you like this. Pinning you underneath of her and giving you orders made her feel in control — and that was perfect, because god knows she isn’t in control of anything else in her life right now.

Get down, she’d hiss at you, pointing to the floor with her long, slender index finger. Your pathetic frame would sink to your knees instantly, wordlessly doting to her every command. She’d lean back on her shoulders, her hips propped on the edge of the bed, and give you an expectant look. You know what to do. Do it, her voice would snarl, her empty eyes swirling with hunger. You’d feverishly obey, launching yourself forward and graciously opening your mouth for her pussy. You were dedicated to your craft, taking your time and ensuring that your tongue consumed every inch of her. Yelena’s head would fall back and, raspy, wet noises gurgled from her throat. She was entirely consumed by this twisted bliss — and she was a horrible monster for letting you do these things to her, but she felt far too good to care.

So now here you were, your tongue buried deep inside her while you worked desperately to make her feel better. She was quieter than usual today — the only things to leave her lips were small groans and half-assed insults. Things like the occasional “faster” while she pulled your hair, or “stupid slut” when you weren’t doing things quite right. The slander only made you work harder however, and honestly anything that came out of the blonde woman’s mouth was music to your ears. You stared up at her with rose-colored glasses, living in a delusional world where you truly believed Yelena cared about you.

It was a dreadfully fucked up dynamic — this relationship the two of you had, if it could even be called that. One of you lived in a terrible fantasy of what could be and the other was practically incapable of feeling human emotions. It was truly only a matter of time before the world started burning around the two of you.

A very short matter of time.

Yelena was spasming underneath of you now, warm juices and shaky convulsions racking through her body and into your mouth. You drove your tongue deep against her contracting walls, your eyes squeezed shut. A disgustingly sticky mixture of her fluids and your own saliva dripped down your chin as you finally pulled away, a bitter taste hanging on your tongue.

And Yelena was always quick to leave, she never stuck around any longer than she had to. She came, she came, and then she’d pull shitty excuses out of her ass as to why she needed to leave so soon. Those reasons more often than not consisted of one person — Zeke Yeager. Whether or not there was something romantic between the two, or if she was just highly devoted to him, you could never tell. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know, honestly, because the answer might just break your heart.

Why don’t you stay tonight, Lena? You looked over at her as she pulled her trousers up her long, gangly legs. You craved something deeper with her, something more than just occasional casual sex — but it was really too bad that she didnt reciprocate those feelings at all. Sorry, there's a meeting tonight. I have to go. She’d respond, her voice dull as she carelessly brushed you off and slipped on her boots.

Will Zeke be there? Your voice always got low when you talked about him, but you made intentional efforts to hide the jealousy in your tone. Of course he’ll be there, he is the leader, she’d state dully as if this was obvious, and maybe it was, but it still made your chest ache.

You spend a lot of time with him lately, even outside of meetings, you’d state your observations out loud for the first time. Confrontation wasn’t something you enjoyed, and you certainly weren’t any good at explaining your feelings either. But your heart was starting to nag you lately, and you needed to voice your opinions before it was too late.

We’re preparing for a war, her eyes grew incredibly narrow, try not to make such selfish accusations right now. The words were like daggers of guilt stabbing between your ribs. Yelena had a way with words — a shiny silver tongue that always made you believe what she said without a doubt. You started to believe that you were being selfish — after all the war was very real and Yelena was very involved, that's probably all it was.

You’re right, I’m sorry. I just wish you were around more. Your voice was much quieter now, shame and remorse churning in your stomach -- maybe you would have been better off not saying anything at all.

We’re busy. You have to understand where I’m coming from here. It’s hard for me to make time right now, she’d continue to spew nonsense into your impressionable ears. She didn’t like that you were starting to question her, not at all. She’d say whatever you needed to hear to keep you around at this point — she didn’t plan on losing her little fuck-toy anytime soon. If you needed a little affection to keep you complacent, then she’d just need to put on a little show for you.

Come here, I’m sorry, her tone grew softer, but not at all sincere. You helplessly sunk into her spindly arms, and she pulled you tight to her chest. Just hold on until after the war, okay? Once we make the world a better place, we can do whatever you want.

More false hope, false promises, and false reassurance. The war would be brutal, you’d probably die at some point in a terrible event of collateral damage. You’d die and then Yelena would never need to fulfil her empty promises -- it was that easy, and you’d never know the difference.

That sounds nice, you’d smile, your heart warming at the idea of living in a free world with Yelena by your side. You fell ignorantly for her words, missing every single warning sign and every single red flag. Maybe if you’d noticed the subtle darkness in her eyes, the strain in her tone, or the way she hugged you a little too roughly, you could have saved yourself from the ensuing heartbreak. Or maybe if you had realized that with you being a scout and her being a follower of Zeke, it was unlikely that the two of you would ever work out. But you stupidly refused to consider any of these things, and it was going to cost you your heart.

That fateful memory was a few months ago, and now the both of you were in Marley, anxiously waiting for Eren’s plan to unfold. You were partnered with your friend Connie, his lips twisting into a thin line as the two of you hid in the shadows on top of an industrial building. You were incredibly capable with your 3dm gear, and even more capable with the new gun technology, but you were practically useless with your head in its current state. You watched the streets with fervent eyes, dashing them up and down nearby alleyways and hoping for any sign of Yelena. The attack hadn’t even started yet, but not knowing her whereabouts made you incredibly uneasy. She was probably wherever Zeke was, of course, but you liked to think that wherever she was, she was worried about you too.

Yelena was hiding in plain sight, dressed in a traditional Marleyan Army uniform with fake facial hair wrapped around her chin. She did as she was ordered, trapping two of the titan shifters in a large hole and then retreating back to her position. She was focused solely on her task, and on Zeke and how she could ensure his safety, and honestly, the thought of you hadn’t crossed her mind once tonight.

When Eren’s attack came, it came suddenly and violently -- and it was like nothing you’ve ever seen before, or at least not since the colossal and armored titans attacked so many years ago. Before you could even take in the horrifying scene in front of you, Connie was grabbing your hand and ushering you to run, the two of you taking off with your 3dm gear. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering as your body swung through the air, frantically searching the streets for the tall, blonde woman who owned your heart. But maybe you should have paid less attention to finding her, and more attention to where you were going.

Connie’s shrill scream shook you to your core, and at first you didn’t even notice the array of guns pointed right at the two of you. A group of Marleyan soldiers were lined up atop a building, every single nozzle of their firearms preparing to shoot at you and Connie. Your friend shot his gear downwards, swooping underneath the scope of the guns and shouting at you to follow him. And you tried, you really did, but you were horribly distracted and accidentally shot your gear into the very edge of a building. The hook crumbled the corner of the building and was unable to secure itself, sending you hurling to the ground beneath you. Your breath was wiped clean from your chest as you smacked against the ground, dust and dirt filling your lungs. Connie was forced to swing up onto a higher building, narrowly avoiding the bullets and unable to come down after you. Your bones ached as you peeled yourself off the ground, looking up just to see pieces of rubble hurling towards you. What the FUCK, Eren? You silently cursed out that irresponsible titan boy, scrambling to avoid the giant chunks of building that were quickly getting closer.

You thought you’d made it, your heart beat gushing in your ears as you launched yourself towards another building, only to be knocked back down by a slab of broken concrete. Pained yelps squeezed out from your throat as your body fell helplessly back to the ground. This fall did a number on you, your ears ringing and your head pounding with a dull pain. The large piece of rubble had crashed into one of your legs, rendering your leg immobile and absolutely crushing your gear. Connie couldn’t help you, not when saving you guaranteed his own demise — you needed to do this on your own, unless-

“Yelena!” You called out to the towering woman who was stumbling towards you. Her arm was wrapped around an injured Zeke, and she was working hard to carry him to safety. Levi must have rocked his shit again, you’d have to thank him for that if you made it out of this alive.

Yelena stopped momentarily when she saw your mangled leg, but not even an ounce of concern crossed her determined face. She looked you up and down, and then glanced down at Zeke as if she was weighing her options.

“I’m sorry,” She shot you a horribly unsypathetic look, dragging her gaze away from you and hurrying off with the injured blonde boy.

It was so simple, so short, and there wasn't the smallest hint of remorse in her voice. Your brain couldn’t process how easy it was for her to leave you there, your mouth hanging open in a small “o”. You would give your life for Yelena, and she didn’t even blink when you were faced with certain death — and that’s when it all started to set in. The delusional facade that you’d imagined between the two of you was shattering, small pieces of glass memories crashing and crumbling around you. The cruel owner of your pitiful heart felt nothing for you, and it had taken this long for you to finally realize.

All of the days and nights the two of you spent entangled in each other's arms had meant nothing. All of the time you spent with your lips locked against hers and her large hands caressing your body had been devoid of anything more than lust for her. Terrible embarrassment washed up inside of you as you recalled all of the sinful things you did for this cold-hearted, unfeeling woman.

Your motivation to fight was gone, your eyes locked onto Yelena’s tall figure as she ran further away and out of view. She’d picked Zeke over you again, she always did, and she always would. She practically worshiped him, like he was some kind of fucked up, twisted god. You weren’t sure why you ever thought you could compete with that.

In the midst of your complete breakdown, a firm arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into the air. Connie had come back for you, cold air stinging your face as the two of you shot up to the safety of a tall, nearby building.

“Fuck, y/n, stop being so careless! And I hope you’ll finally give up on that lanky bitch after she walked right past you like that,” he let out an exasperated breath, slumping behind a large brick wall.

“Sorry… thank you,” you mumbled, “You really shouldn’t have risked your life like that”.

“No, but that’s what people are supposed to do when they care about each other. Is it finally sinking in, that she's been using you for the past year? I tried to tell you so many time-,” He continued to ramble on in frustration.

Every one of his words poured salt into your already burning wounds, tears beginning to leak from your eyes. Yelena didn’t care about you, she never did — she’d never even sacrificed time for you, never mind compromising her or Zeke’s safety for you. And you were stupidly ignorant to ever think that she saw you as more than a toy she used to pass the time.

[caker-baker]

I love your super speed vs. telepathy snippets so much! Well, actually, I love all of your writing but I was really hoping you might continue it please? I would be very grateful!

The faces of the hero’s friends, cohorts, whatever one should call them, were clear in the villain’s mind, the hero had each memorized quite well.

They once again pulled at the mental track, letting go once they knew their hero was far away from whatever this place was.

Heroes didn’t always get the luxury of nicer headquarters, the villain had to admit that. If they couldn’t steal money, they must get it from their day jobs, or wherever they disappeared to when they weren’t fighting.

The clearly used pin pad showed wear on the numbers the hero had in their head, the passcode could’ve been figured out even if the villain didn’t go through their mind.

8, 5, 18, 15, 5, 19.

It corresponded with the alphabet, spelling ‘heroes’. A stupid name, a stupid passcode, even the hero thought that.

No matter.

The villain was able to walk right in, hands shoved in pockets, a grin on their face.

It was quiet in the talking sense, not extraordinary by any means. Four people in total lounged about.

Only one hero took immediate note at first. If the hero’s, now the villain’s memory served, this hero had no particular powers, but she was a skilled fighter.

And loud.

It’s the crazy villain. The others haven’t noticed. Where are their weak points? Attack first or wait?

So unorganized, this hero’s thoughts.

“Personally,” the villain began, slowly taking their hands out of their pockets. “I would attack first. It makes it easier on me.”

“Guys.” The unorganized hero said, voice stern. Her words were of no use, though, as the three others had already stood.

A thousand thoughts hit at once.

That’s not Hero.

Why hasn’t Hero come back yet?

They knew the passcode.

What did they do to Hero?

It didn’t work.

Did Hero betray us, or did Villain use them?

Not this one. Anyone but this one.

Its three against one this time.

The villain winced slightly, while the heroes had taken their fighting stances.

“Is it too many at once, Villain?” One of them taunted. Their words were brave, albeit foolish, yet their mind betrayed them.

“No point in putting on a brave face.” The villain said. “Not when I know how you really feel.”

The first attack came directly from the villain’s front - the fighter.

They knew they weren’t as good as her in physical fighting, but her strategizing skills needed polishing, especially considering the villain could hear where she planned to attack.

What was meant to be a surely vicious punch to the jaw ended up as an arm twisted behind her back.

The villain heard the next move before this fighting hero did.

Even if she didn’t realize it, she was thinking about how to get out of this on a subconscious level, her body just recognized it before her mind.

With no remorse, the villain pulled her closer, fingers on her temple, vaguely wondering why they hadn’t used this trick more often.

“Sleep.” They commanded, watching her fall to the ground.

Three other heroes had stood in silence. According to their thoughts, what she just did was incredibly reckless, incredibly unplanned. The same question did find its way to all of their minds - Will she ever wake up?

“She will.” The villain answered the unspoken worry. “Just in time to see your ruin.”

Two of the others seemed much more cautious, brute strength and the force of wind is what they had to work with. The third lingered back, not the fighting type, it seemed. They looked to be the whitecoat the villain had seen, strangely unfamiliar in an unprofessional setting.

“Where’s Hero?” The wind hero asked, slowly circling the villain along with the strong one.

“Ah, here and there. I don’t presume to know their whereabouts.” Well...

“What did you do to them?” The strong one demanded, much more hotheaded than their counterparts.

“My, oh my.” There was a strange look on the villain’s face, one the heroes didn’t care for. “I’m not using them for any ‘sick experiments’, as you are thinking, it’s not quite my style. You, however-”

An arm was wrapped around the villain’s neck, who took the opportunity to elbow the strong one in the gut. It didn’t really work, it wasn’t really meant to work, the villain just needed some sort of physical contact they initiated.

“Sleep.” The commanded, and though this one’s grip faltered they didn’t entirely let go of the villain.

Fine enough.

The wind one rushed forward, the strong arm still holding the villain, who used the anchor behind them to kick the oncoming hero.

“Sleep.” The villain commanded more harshly, feeling the grip around them weaken and fall.

At this point, the villain had to remind themselves of their strengths, the effort it took for the strong arm nearly draining them.

Still, there was only the wind one left before they could get to the whitecoat.

“You’ve seen what I can do.” The villain said, eyeing the hero who was doubled over from their kick.

“But you haven’t seen me.”

The silence of a building turned into the whistling of the winds, gusts of air flowing about in harsh and rapid movements.

“I wonder,” the villain spoke over the roaring. “if the others know of the little sordid affair you and the strong arm are having, how far you would fall from the fighter’s good graces.”

The winds died suddenly.

“You’re lying.” An aghast hero muttered, their confidence waning . “We aren’t..I wouldn’t-”

“Ah, lying to a telepath,” the villain chuckled, slowly closing the distance between them. “You know, Hero tried the same thing. Remind me where they are again?”

The wind hero staggered slightly, but was caught by a cold hand clutching the back of their neck.

“It’s much easier to do this when one is mentally beaten down.” The villain grinned. “Sleep.”

Onto the ground they went.

“Then there was one.” The villain said ominously.

The building now seemed to lack a whitecoat the villain was keen on finding, although that wasn’t really the case. The case was a scared tag along ‘hero’ used for medical expertise was hiding somewhere.

“I can hear your thoughts. Please don’t concern yourself with such fears, I just want to talk.”

The villain thought they would be kind, and wait for the whitecoat to reveal themselves before dragging them out by the collar.

It didn’t happen.

Without making a sound, the villain made their way to a small door, one meant to hold who knows what, but also one being used to hide in.

“Boo.” The villain said, opening the door.

While the whitecoat shrieked, the villain tutted.

“I told you.” They said, taking hold of a trembling collar. “I just wanted to talk.”

The second the whitecoat was heaved upward, they tried to make a dash for it, only for something hard to hit them, mentally.

“You are much easier to keep still.” The villain admitted. “You, like everyone else, are noisy. There’s more of you to take hold of. Every room I walk into is filled with people thinking bigger than life. It’s exhausting, it’s rude.”

“I-” they stammered, frozen limbs incapable of shaking. “I-I’m sorry. Is there-is there some-something I can do for you?”

The villain cocked their head. “Everyone seems to be afraid of me. There is only one who managed to keep calm throughout their fear.” They looked the whitecoat up and down once, unsatisfied with whatever they saw.

“You are smart.” The villain commented.

“Tha-thank you.”

“But so easily you yield to the voices of those heroes.” The disdain in the villain’s voice would have made the whitecoat flinch, if not for their being kept in place.

“Do you know what they felt?” The villain continued, fixing a glare on their target. “I know. I was in the hero’s head, and all they wanted was peace. Peace you denied them. It was well enough of you to send them to me, they would have died otherwise.”

“The-” the whitecoat made to defend themselves. “There was-wasn’t a ch-choice.”

“Oh, spare me your ramblings.” The villain scoffed. “No choice, it’s your job, the hero was fine with it, every pathetic excuse on your tongue is useless. Tell me, would you prefer I put you to sleep before the place blows?”

“P-pl-please, no.”

“You would rather stay in place?” The villain smiled. “How brave.”

“Villain?”

Damn, they hadn’t been paying attention to the mental track.

“Hero.” The villain greeted, not turning around to face them.

“This is why you wanted me away for a while.” The hero muttered, pieces of evidence coming together. “It would give you time to do...”

The villain still hadn’t turned to face them, but could hear the hero’s thoughts while investigating their sleeping teammates. Mainly, they were relieved none of them were dead.

Yet.

“H-hero.” The whitecoat managed to bite out.

With a withering glare from the villain, the whitecoat shut their mouth again.

“You have me in an awkward position, pet. Didn’t you promise to stay away?”

“I forgot a status report, they needed to know I was alive.”

“This one knows.” The villain said, turning their head slightly. “You should go now, pet.”

“I think I should stay.”

“I enjoy being on amicable terms with you. For the sake of staying so, I suggest you leave.” As an afterthought, the villain added, “Please.”

The whitecoat’s cogs were turning rapidly, the villain knew so, the villain hated it.

“I suggest you quell those thoughts, and quickly.” The villain snarled.

“Why are you doing this?” The hero asked, taking a slow step toward, eyes flicking between the whitecoat and the villain’s back.

“I wouldn’t try it, pet.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s a lie.”

The hero took a sharp breath. “Ok. Ok. We’re at a standstill-”

“Your speed, my mind, evenly matched throughout the passage of time. Either that, or you get lucky.” The villain sighed. “How frustrating it is.”

“So what if we just leave each other alone?”

The villain turned, quick and sharp.

“You are serious?” The villain squinted. “You are serious.” Their laugh was a horrible noise, short, taunting. “No, pet. I never fully planned on letting you be.”

“That’s fine.” It was only kind of a lie. “Just leave the rest of them alone.”

A sort of glee shone on the villain’s face. “But now they know me. I can’t quite let them live.”

The hero was slightly desperate at this point.

“Once you told me I was the only one who knew of your telepathy, it was because you took away everyone else’s memories. Do that now.” The hero’s beg was silent, the thought only meant for their head, but the villain still heard it.

The villain’s original plan was derailed, but this one was just as sweet. “Therein lies yet another problem, pet. They know you, and you know me. After each encounter, you’ll go running back to them.”

“I won’t. I won’t tell.”

“Liar.” The villain whispered, smiling.

“Then take me from their memories, too.”

There it was.

“Hero!” The whitecoat protested, their voice turning firm. “Hero, no.”

“You,” the villain rounded on them. “Stay quiet.” They turned back to the hero. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”

With pursed lips, the hero answered. “I have a feeling there wasn’t much of a choice to begin with.”

“Very well.”

The whitecoat felt the invisible hold on them release, but that freedom didn’t last long. The villain was on them, and with a single word, their consciousness faded.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Smut, you say 👀

You're this cute, kinda innocent woman that gets the help of this handsome gigolo to not be as... innocent.

💕 The Professional: Chapter 1 💕

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter only)

Pairing: Danma Takeru (Hatter)/Reader (she/her

Tags: flirting, suggestive conversation, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

Notes: This is a kind-of sort-of AU—in the show, Hatter references his involvement with the host club business, and mentions that he “would do anything” to be the best. Although host clubs do not usually involve sex work (as far as I know), I believe that he would definitely offer that “off the books” in order to win over his clientele.

You’re nervous. Nervous and jittery and—oh, dear, there’s a lot of feelings going on in here, and all of them seem to fall under the umbrella of ‘mild to moderate discomfort.’ Not that feeling uncomfortable is anything new; in fact, there are very few times where you happen to feel truly comfortable outside of, say, the warmth of your bed or the soothing calm of a late-night bath. Places where you feel safe. Places where you can let yourself breathe and be, unhindered by expectation.

The place where you currently find yourself—this strange little pocket of a room in the buzz and bustle of a Friday-night Kabukicho—is full-to-bursting with expectation. From the polished wood floors to the glittering gold chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling, there is an inescapable sense of opulent whimsy that is tinged pink with a blush of sensuality. There are even fresh flowers on the table in front of you—a vase of ranunculus, blooming bright and orange like a green-stalked bunch of tiny setting suns.

Something like an itch tickles your sweat-damp palms, making you ball your hands into tight fists around the fabric of your skirt. Oh, you should have worn something different! Something sexier, maybe, with a deeper neckline and a shorter hem, that hugged the shape of your body as opposed to ghosting over it in fluttering chiffon. Not that you actually, you know, owned anything like that, but—

The pop! of a champagne cork makes you jump. Hell, you feel like you’re about to pop, too, from the nervous energy boiling and swelling in your chest. It’s so very difficult not to fidget, to keep your toes from tapping out a frantic little rhythm on the rug.

Looking back, you realize that the paperwork had been the ‘easy’ part. Not that it had been particularly easy—who knew there would be an application process for this kind of thing?—but it was less stressful to fill out a (surprisingly comprehensive) questionnaire in the privacy of your own home as opposed to this agonizing waiting.

And what, exactly, are you waiting for?

Why, you’re waiting for him.

His name is Takeru—or, at least, that’s what he’s asked you to call him. Whether or not it’s a stage name is difficult to tell; but what you do know is that it sounded so very nice in the deep clear of his voice. The only thing that sounded better was your name, which he said in a gently-sultry half-whisper that made you feel…many thing, and not all of them innocent.

In a devastatingly well-tailored suit of lipstick red—a vibrant pop of a color you would so often consider buying at the makeup counter but always put back—it’s nearly impossible to look at anything but him. A small collection of rings glisten from his fingers, most of them delicate little things that wink a tiny gleam when the light hits them just right. The dizzying black-white-gold pattern of his shirt is unbuttoned just a smidge too low, offering you a tantalizing view of his chest.

And although his back is toward you, concocting some kind of magic at the bar cart along the far wall, you can all but feel the warm-dark of his eyes on you. Oh, he has beautiful eyes, dark and warm with the glitter of laughter—or perhaps mischief, if the situation calls for it. A slim nose leads down to a shapely mouth, handsomely framed by a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.

Also, his hair—oh, that man has a great head of hair.

Aesthetics aside—he has been undeniably lovely. Slipping the coat from your shoulders when you walked into the room, fingertips skimming the slope of your shoulders with only the barest of touches. Offering you a glass of champagne (“Yes, thank you”) as he leads you to sit on the green velvet settee, hand hovering above but never touching the small of your back. A serene smile on his lips as he talks, as he tells you that your dress is lovely (“Blue is definitely your color, darling”) and letting out an airy chuckle when you mention that this was as good occasion as any to dig it out of the back of your closet.

It is impossible to ignore the way he is so very provocative—subtly so, in a way that makes you second-guess whether his flirtations had happened at all. Did his eyes really linger over the shape of your legs, or was he simply taking a moment to admire your (new, very cute) shoes? Did his fingertips slip over the curve of your shoulder as he removed your coat, or were you just imagining it?

His gaze tiptoes over your shape as he sits down beside you, two flutes of pink-tinged something in hands.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making something a little special,” he says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as he hands you one of the glasses, “it…it looks nice.”

“Know what it is?”

“Uh,” you say after a moment of silent deliberation, “Maybe alcohol?”

He huffs a short laugh at your half-joke—a rather polite response, and it manages to soothe the bubble of regret that had risen up your throat the moment you’d said it.

“You’re not wrong. More specifically, though, it’s a Kir Royale—or, my take on one, at the very least,” he watches the bubbles fizzle to the top of the glass, “I find myself more or less incapable of keeping with convention, even when it comes to alcohol.”

“Well, uh,” you say, “it’s pretty. I like the color.”

You taste the drink, bubbles like tiny fireworks tickling over the surface of your tongue. There is a dry bitterness, no doubt from the champagne, but it’s softened by a fruity sweetness. Something familiar, something that reminds you of summer and shaved ice and walks along the river and—

“Cherry,” you say, half-lost in the hazy-warm memory of days gone by—until you remember where you are and snap back to reality, “it’s, uh, it tastes like cherries.”

“Very good. Usually, the drink calls for creme de cassis, but I used Kijafa instead. It’s a dessert wine from Denmark, made from cherries,” his brow raises just a smidge, “I thought it appropriate, given the situation.”

And it takes you a minute to understand what he’s talking about. Cherries. You. Ah. A rather crass comparison, but accurate all the same.

“Oh,” you say, picking a very uninteresting spot on the rug to look at in an attempt to avoid meeting his eyes, “I, uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds, “In fact, virginity isn’t even a real thing. Completely made up. Means nothing, really.”

There is a kind of lag—he’s speaking, you know he’s speaking, but it takes your brain a few extra seconds to figure out what he’s actually saying. It’s strange, hearing someone talk to you so openly about sex. Not unwelcome, by any means, but you need a moment (or two, or ten) to adjust.

“That being said,” he continues, as if he’s discussing the weather, “just because it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of life doesn’t mean it’s nothing to you.”

He’s fishing. He’s fishing, and you kind of want to take the bait, but…well, you’re finding it difficult to get your thoughts in order. He’s the very picture of calm, all while you’re floundering over a simple conversation.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I thought you might prefer to talk it over a bit. ”

“No, uh, you’re fine,” you answer quickly, “I’m just…I thought the paperwork kind of covered all that.”

“More or less,” he answers, “however, I’ve found that the person who fills out the forms and the person who ends up sitting across from me are not always of the same mind.”

He reaches a hand into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a silver-plated cigarette case. Although he is not gentleman enough to ask your permission to smoke, he is gentleman enough to offer you a cigarette before taking one of his own. You decline. He shrugs and quickly snaps the case shut before laying it on the table.

“In fact, it’s not uncommon for my clients to have a complete change of heart the second they walk through the door,” he continues, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Or, sometimes later on, for that matter. Depends on the person.”

Cigarette held between his teeth, he retrieves a lighter from his right trouser pocket. With a sharp little snick, he ignites it, pulling the little orange flame towards his face and hiding it behind his hand to let it catch.

“Really?”

You watch him intently, the way his eyelids flutter closed at the first inhale. The way his lips pucker around the filter and release, the red-pink sticking slightly as they pull away and let smoky white flow out and fade into the air.

“Really,” he confirms, “once, I had a client step inside, take one look at me, and promptly walk right back out. Never saw them again, which is fine. I’ll never fault someone for doing what’s right for themselves.”

“Are you, uh, trying to talk me out of it?”

“Not at all. Just making you aware of your options,” he says, “Doing anything for the first time is scary. Driving a car, swimming in the ocean, traveling abroad—sex is no different.”

“Yeah, well,” you respond, “you also get to do most of those things with your clothes on, so…”

“Depends on who you’re with.”

You can’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I still want to…you know,” you answer, “uh, do it. The…the sex part.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he insists, “I can’t imagine anyone being upset at the thought of having a pretty thing like you in their bed.”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, taking on a tone that brokers no arguments, “I will suffer many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You are an attractive woman and I refuse to be told otherwise.”

“Sorry, I,” you say sheepishly, “I guess I just…wasn’t expecting you to…like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his cigarette and takes another long, slow drag, “You’re very sweet. A bit shy, maybe, but I happen to like the shy ones.”

And there is something about the way he says it, the way his voice wraps around the words—oh, there are implications to those words, and you find yourself growing warm at the thought of what exactly those implications could entail.

You sip your drink. He smokes. The quiet between you is almost comfortable. Maybe it’s the alcohol working it’s bubbly magic, but you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange little place.

Moreover, you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease with him. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind, then doubles-back and crosses it again. Oh, that sounds nice. He would be good at it, too; starting gently, mouth pressed soft and sure against your own, and then just the tiniest tease of his tongue—

“And there you go, biting your lip again,” he says, snapping you out of your impromptu fantasy, “You have no idea how sexy that is, do you?”

He is sporting a devilish grin—not only is he aware that you had been daydreaming about him, but he’s relishing the fact that he was able to catch you so off-guard.

“Didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you admit with a shrug. But you can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being considered ‘sexy’—you never really let yourself feel that way, but now that it’s happening…oh, it’s nice.

“It’s absolutely delicious, darling. Makes me wonder what else you do when you’re turned on…”

And he’s got you—like a knife held under your chin, his sharp gaze pins you in place. He is impossible to avoid. Not that you particularly want to avoid him—there’s something irresistible about this man, something that you can’t quite name but definitely want more of.

It’s scary.

It’s exciting.

“I’m,” you say with a nervous chuckle, “not really sure, myself. Guess we’ll have to, uh, figure it out together.”

His gaze darkens. He takes one last lungful of nicotine before stubbing out his cigarette.

“I suppose we shall.”

And he’s moving now, sliding himself down so that he’s closer to you. He stops when there is barely an inch of space between the outside of his thigh and your own. His right arm has draped itself over the back of the sofa, the fingertips of his hand now skimming the skin of your shoulder in loose, mindless sweeps.

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

He plucks the champagne flute from your grasp and sets it on the table in front of you.

“I, uh—“

The fingertips on your shoulder continue to make their idle little circles, almost hypnotic in their swirling pattern. His left hand catches your right wrist, his thumb pressing above where your pulse thrums beneath sensitive skin.

“Bit fast,” he observes, pulling your arm closer as if inspecting it, “Could be nerves, but I think it’s more from excitement, don’t you?”

You have no choice but to lean into him as he brings your hand closer. Your shoulder presses against his arm, and you feel the solid shape of him through the smooth of his suit. He’s strong underneath all of those layers—warm, too, judging from the heat that radiates from his person.

“I’m—“

The thumb that had been testing your pulse inches higher, stopping when it’s pressing into the center of your palm. His eyes lock with yours, a heartbeat of a moment, and brings your wrist closer and closer until his lips are ghosting over your flesh. When he finally decides to make contact, you gasp—it’s a delicate sensation, but sends your heart skipping in a shaking staccato.

And, then.

Then he sucks.

The sound you make is halfway between an oh of surprise and a desperate little moan—oh, wow, that’s really weirdly unexpectedly hot—and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed by your own reaction. He’s not even doing much, not really; just a little bit of pressure, lips parted just enough to let his tongue slip out and have a taste of you.

But, oh, it feels…it feels filthy, it feels decadent, it feels like something you should not be doing but very much want to keep doing for the rest of your life. Takeru’s eyes have since fluttered shut, and he hums the tiniest sound of pleasure as he maintains his seductive tease.

“Please,” you manage to sigh, sounding as breathless as you feel, “please, I, I want you to kiss me.”

His lips release from your wrist with a pucker-pop noise—which was no doubt intentional on his part, and does nothing to quell the thrill of desire in your belly.

“Hm. I’ll make you a deal,” he says, shifting a bit to the left so that he can turn to face you better, “I’ll kiss you for the rest of the night, but right now…you kiss me.”

And what a deal that is—you don’t even have to think about it, head bobbing in an affirmative nod as you wet your lips in anticipation. The hand that had so lovingly held yours is now guiding you to rest your palm just above his knee. You reflexively reach your other hand out to steady yourself, and it lands against his chest before you can stop it.

He’s so close now. There’s barely any space between your faces, barely room to breathe—

“Go on, darling,” he whispers, “if you want me, have me.”

And you do.

You kiss him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The anxiety that has plagued you since the moment you entered the room hasn’t completely dissipated—it would be foolish to think it’d be that easy to banish those feelings completely—but all that is now secondary to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

Kissing Takeru is warm. It’s soft and it’s sure and it’s…comfortable, in a way. Safe, even. He does not press, doesn’t do much of anything except mirror the way your lips slide against his own. A gentle rhythm, a push and pull between the two of you that feels as natural as the moon guiding the tides to shore—yes, kissing him is good and right and something you want to do many times over.

Unfortunately, you have to pull away to breathe. He doesn’t let you go far, though, one hand cupped behind the nape of your neck and the other pressing into the small of your back.

“Oh, you are sweet,” he purrs, his gaze dropping to your freshly-kissed lips, “and, seeing that I’m a man of my word…”

As it turns out, being kissed by Takeru might be better than kissing him, yourself. He is still so very careful when he presses his lips to yours, but this time…this time, there’s fire. He tastes like the best part of a cigarette, like warmth and alcohol and cherries, and it only intensifies as he tests the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Little by little, you begin to test him, too. Hands cradle the curve of his jaw, feeling the way his face shifts as he moves against you. Fingertips run through the soft dark of his hair—oh, he likes that, if the half-sigh that slips from his throat is to be believed. And when you nip at his lower lip with your teeth (he had, after all, very much enjoyed the way you bit your lip earlier), he genuinely moans and pulls you even closer to himself.

It’s when he begins to wander lower, with his mouth skimming the sensitivity of your neck and his hand splayed across your lower back in a way that flirts with the idea of indecency, that you begin to want more. Fear—and maybe that’s not exactly the right word for what you’re feeling, but it’s the only one that comes to mind—begins to creep up the column of your spine.

The “what-if’s” start filling your brain; what if you mess something up? What if you do something he doesn’t like? What if you freeze up later and—

“Alright, darling?”

His voice is a low soothe against your ear; he’s retreated, just a bit, and his hand has wandered to a chaste and respectable area of your mid-back.

“I—“

You want him to take you to bed. You want him to take off your dress and kiss you in all the places you thought weren’t worth kissing, to let his hands trace sparks along the curves of your shape and let him be close to you in a way that no one else has. You want him, despite the uncertain ache that burns between your ribs and bids you to hide yourself away and leave behind the pleasure of his touch.

…But all you can manage is a nervous glance to the bed behind you (the one you had been avoiding thinking about up until this point) and a stammered “Can we, uh…?”

“Ask me,” he says, his index and middle fingers idly skimming the notch in your collarbone, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you ask me.”

It’s difficult to make eye contact with him—every time you try, you feel embarrassment swell up beneath your tongue.

But Takeru is, as you have come to learn over the last hour or so, decidedly patient. He shows no sign of relenting, appearing to be perfectly content with giving you an expectant grin and continuing his little touches as you try not to squirm in your seat.

“I,” you gulp, “I want…“

You bite your lip—oh, wait, he likes that too, and he’s staring at you with those sharp and sultry eyes, and it makes something behind your heart squeeze and unsqueeze itself and punches the air from your lungs and—

“Take me to bed,” you manage to spit out, and it all sounds like one word with how quickly you pushed the words into the air. The “uh, please” you tack on at the end is an afterthought, but perhaps it’s polite enough to pass muster.

“Was that so hard,” Takeru asks with a good-natured chuckle, “but since you asked so nicely…”

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss—and even that, after everything, still has you feeling a flutter of something giddy in your stomach.

“Darling,” he says, “it would be my pleasure.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

…and now, you’ll have to wait until chapter two to get to the “good stuff!”

It’s been a challenge writing this—I’m trying to make the scenario believable while still keeping it vague enough to allow for people to make up their own little details. It’s also been unexpectedly difficult to write him, since he’s kind of being himself while also playing a character who’s trying to mold themself into their client’s fantasy…it’s a lot of layers, but it’s been fun trying to figure things out!

[teamhappyme]

as long as i have you

pairing: peter stone x reader

warnings: broken bones, mentions of death

word count: 1.7k

a/n: just some nice little peter stone fluff for you all tonight :)

****

You made your way up the steps of one hogan place a little slower that afternoon, your new injury giving you a slight balance problem. It had been a rough day at the precinct, for more reasons than the obvious one attached to your shoulder.

The only thing that was getting you through the day was the promise of greasy pizza and watching the cubs game with your boyfriend. In the six months you’d been seeing each other, Peter had become such a constant in your life. Even before you agreed to that first date, the last year and a half he’d been with the squad had led to him etching a place in your life, even though you were a little weary of him at first.

But he proved himself to you; he got justice for victims, showed empathy to Carisi when he could have ripped him to shreds for interfering, and after confiding in you after Pam’s death, you knew the man that he truly was. 

And after the day you were having, you were grateful to have Peter Stone in your corner. 

As you walked down the hall to his office, you saw Carmen packing up her bag, and she gave you a warm smile. 

“I have a feeling you’re the person to thank for my early night,” She commented, and you smiled back in return. Carmen had caught on pretty early on that there was something between you two, but she never asked any questions. She just transferred your calls, and gave you knowing smiles in turn.

“Well, I’m glad I can get you out of here before seven on a thursday night.” You replied, giving her a small wave as you entered Peter’s office.

He was on the phone when you opened the door, giving you a smile before his eyes landed on your arm. The black sling attached to your left arm was hard to miss. He sat up straighter, ready to end the phone call when you put your good hand out to him, letting him know it was okay.

That you were okay.

You placed your bag on the couch, listening as Peter tried to wrap up the conversation as politely as possible. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, a message from Sonny asking you if you were doing alright. You quickly responded, reassuring your partner that your arm hadn’t fallen off since he last saw you thirty minutes ago.

Once it sounded like the phone call was finally being wrapped up, you leaned against his desk and waited for him to hang up. And in fifteen seconds, the phone was down and Peter was quickly standing between your legs. 

“What happened to you?” He asked while his hands hovered over your arms. 

“I was chasing a perp through an alley, tackled him, and landed pretty bad on my arm. Broke my arm and fractured my wrist. Got a pretty purple cast tucked in here.” He let out a sigh before placing a kiss to your forehead. “And believe it or not, this wasn’t even the worst part of my day.”

He pulled away, his brow quirked in interest for you to continue. 

“Rollins was on another anti-lawyer spiel, and your name came into the mix. I tried to interrupt her, as subtle as one can interrupt Amanda Rollins on a roll, but she shut me down.”

Even though you and Peter had been seeing each other for six months, you still hadn’t disclosed to Liv or the DA. At first, it was because you wanted to keep this to yourselves. It was new, and fun, and airing it to the rest of the squad would only taint it. Then, as time passed, and the two of you knew this was going to last, you were worried about your jobs. You both loved being in special victims, and you didn’t want to risk being transferred somewhere new. 

So, you kept your mouths shut. Tried to avoid standing next to each other during work, because you knew you’d be tempted to reach for his hand. And most frequently, you bit your tongue when someone was upset with Peter. He was the ADA afterall, and he could complicate your lives a bit. But sometimes, it went too far.

“You know I don’t take any of Rollins' criticisms to heart. If I did, I’d be out of a job about a year and a half ago.” He said with a smile, trying to make you feel better. He knew how much you cared about him, and how much you wanted to stand up for him in front of the squad. But he also learned early on in his career not to expect many friends to come out of this job. 

“I know you don’t, but,” you let out a sigh, running your good hand through your hair. “When I got to the emergency room, they asked if they should notify my next of kin. It wasn’t a big deal, only a broken bone, and I had Carisi with me. But, what if it had been serious? What if I had gotten shot and you didn’t know until Liv told you the next day?”

Peter had thought about that situation more times than he’d like to admit. He was worried about you all the time; not because you were incapable of doing your job, but because he cared for you. And he wanted to know you would be safe every minute of every day. But that wasn’t a given with this job.

“And it’s not just if I get hurt. I want to be able to defend my boyfriend when someone starts talking shit about him. I want to put pictures of us out on my desk, and I want everyone to know how amazing you are.” 

“Y/n/n,”

“And I know that once we disclose to Liv and Jack we’re putting our futures in their hands, but I’m okay with that. If I have to be monitored, or put on desk duty more often, I don’t care. As long as I have you, I’ll do whatever they decide.”

Peter Stone could count on one hand how many times someone has left him speechless, and none of them revolved around the love he received from a partner. 

You were willing to take a detour in your career all for him. For Peter Stone, the man who was too late to almost every relationship in his life. Peter Stone, the man that understood his father and sister when it was too late. Peter Stone, the man that didn’t deserve you one bit.

But he knew, in that moment, he would do the same thing for you. And he supposes, that he may just be worthy of your love after all.

He’s brought back to the moment when you slip your hand in his, gently squeezing his hand to make sure he heard you. 

His smile only grows then, as he drops your hand, only to rest his palms on the side of your face. He caught the small smile you broke into before he kissed you, and he felt it as he tried to stay glued to you for as long as possible. The little laugh he let out tickled your nose, getting you to pull away from him. 

When you finally get a look at him, you savor the happiness he’s exuding, and take a moment to run your fingers through the hair right above his ear. 

“First thing on Monday, we’ll disclose to Liv. And the next time Rollins starts talking shit about me, you can properly defend me.”

You let out a laugh as his thumb continued to brush against your cheek. “I’ll have Carisi phone you in so you can witness it.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He said, then closed the gap between you once again, moving his lips softly against your own. 

It was amazing, what you’d be willing to do for each other. Deep down, you were sure nothing drastic would change, but you truly don’t know. All that matters is the two of you, and the blind jump you were willing to take. Together.

Peter slowly moved his hands down your arm, forgetting about the injuries you sustained just hours ago. You pulled away quickly, trying to suppress the hiss of pain leaving your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” He started, this time gently resting his hand on the sling. 

You shook your head, cracking your fingers a few times until the pain went away. “It’s okay. The bumpy cab ride over here was worse than that.”

He smiled, moving away from you for just a second to grab the sharpie lying across his desk. 

“I think your arm would feel a little better if I got to sign that purple cast right there.” 

You pulled the band from around your neck, Peter helping you maneuver the contraption with an extra hand. 

“Well, there’s a slight problem with that request,” you pulled off the sling completely, the purple cast now in his view. Except, there was black ink covering almost the entire width of the cast, and it was Sonny’s scrawl. “I may have told him about our situation, after the next of kin conversation. I had to bribe him to keep quiet until I asked you, and,” you raised the arm with ‘SONNY’ in all caps written across it. “This is what the child wanted.” 

“I’m glad you told him,” He said, while gently flipping your arm over. “In case something worse did happen, and we didn’t have this conversation, I wouldn’t be left in the dark.”

It was your turn to rest a hand on his face, coaxing his eyes to look up at you from their gaze on the carpeted floor. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Peter.” You said, and lightly kissed his cheek. “I’ve got too many good people around me to leave.”

“Good,” he said with a smile, while uncapping his sharpie. He managed to find an open spot on the part that rested on the inside of your wrist. He wrote out his first name, in messy block letters, and finished with a heart at the end. “‘Cause you’re kind of stuck with me now.”

He pecked your lips one more time, before moving out from between your legs, calling it an early night. 

You watched as he organized his desk for the morning, piling files in order of importance, and listened to him compare the pizza joints you would pass on the way to his apartment. The ease of it all made your chest warm, and your head a little dizzy.

But you could get used to this feeling.

****

tags: @hurricanejjareau @qvid-pro-qvo @crazyshannonigans @joanofarkansass

[thespoonisvictory]

“Techno and Wilbur make Cave Better” Key Conversations

Hi, so I’m doing a big Pogtopida Wilbur analysis rn, mainly of this stream, and I basically decided to transcribe all major events, conversations, and quotes for the masses, to reference during said analysis. 

This was such a good stream to look at, and there’s some really interesting stuff to analyze, as Wilbur interacts with almost every portion of the story and develops his character in a really interesting way. I definitely recommend watching the stream if you want to understand Wilbur’s character, or at least read this. If you like to write meta, have fun with this oh boy.

Major quotes and full conversations are bolded for clarity, timestamps are added, and names are shortened when writing dialogue. If the character is not tagged Wilbur is the one speaking (W = Wilbur, TU = Tubbo, F = Fundy, S = Schlatt, and TO = Tommy). 

“Hey Techno. I’m in a better mood today. I’m in a better- do you know I’m- I’m over fucking losing Manburg y’know.” 11.08

“The revolution is coming. the only difference is I’m not gonna be sad while doing it. I’m gonna be happy, while revolting.” 11.20

“Hey Techno, do you wanna see how over Manburg I am, dude? How over L’Manburg I am? You ready for this? *reveals Pogtopia skin*” 11.25

“That filthy, dirty, coat. I didn’t wash it once, I’ll be honest with you, Technoblade.” 11.40

*Techno shows him the farm, Wilbur is concerned but a little frightened by the amount of time he’s spent on this lol*

“First, I think, I wanna make this place look nicer, cause I won’t be able to work in this cavern if it’s just like, if it’s natural generation, y’know?” 14.33

*they join vc with tubbo*

“Tubbo’s one of the few people I trust, Technoblade. Like, I’m still figuring you out right now, but, at the moment, Tubbo seems to be pretty on the ball. He seems pretty keen on the whole spying thing.” 16.13

“See the thing is, Tubster, can I call you Tubster? Cool, cool. See the thing is Tubbony, I need help, today. Tubbo, do you know anything about super smelters.” 16.53

*they meet up in Manburg to go to Pogtopia, Wilbur doesn’t feel safe coming too close*

“Tubbo. You’ve lost the revolutionary gear. I’m so proud of you man, I’m so proud of you. We’ve finally moved on. It’s the next part!” 19.32

*Wilbur is visibly upset by Tubbo wearing the suit, despite it being a “disguise” and him saying Schlatt’s name, however*

“I was sleeping last night, before I changed my clothes, and I thought to myself, I thought to myself Tubbo you’ve done so much for our great nation.”20.17

“Have you heard of the Sunk Cost Fallacy?” *Wilbur explains the fallacy* “So, in that logic, I think you are physically incapable of giving up. I think you’re physcially incapable of giving up L’manburg. Because you’ve put in so much effort! You’ve put in so much work, y’know. So that’s why...” 22.12

*Wilbur shows Tubbo Pogtopia*

“Pogtopia isn’t a nation, as much as Tommy seems to think it is. We’re a commune, now. Don’t call me Mr President anymore, Tubbo, you’ve gotta call me, uh, Wilbs... In the commune, we’re all equal, we’re all comrades. We’re all equal” 24.24

*Wilbur compares them to Russian revolutionaries*

“Except with this Russian revolution, we’re not all gonna die. And also the nation we’re gonna make afterwards will not fail.” (oh god I’m sad) 25.15

*they talk about the super smelter, wilbur and tubbo are wholesome :(*

W: “Welcome to the commune, welcome to Pogtopia. Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking Wilbur- Wilbur-”

TU: “I think it looks lovely”

W: “oh,  see I thought you were gonna say ‘Wilbur Wilbur this looks like shit’, and I was gonna say ‘yes Tubbo, yes it does look shit’”

TU: “I mean, you obviously- I don’t think you’ve seem Manburg lately.”

Wilbur’s tone becomes serious, maybe angry “I haven’t seen Manburg lately. Why do you rub this in.”

TU: “What- no- I didn’t mean it like that-”

W: “No- I heard you man-”

TU: “No, it’s really gone quite in the opposite direction-”

Wilbur’s tone cheers up a bit. “Oh- it’s bad? It looks bad?

TU: “Yeah”

W: “Oh, that’s brilliant, that’s great news, Tubbo, thank you, I-, that means that when we go and fix it- let me show you...” 27.40

*Wilbur wants to add more people to Pogtopia, tells Techno to get more food*

*Wilbur talks about possibly exporting “Pogtopia Potatoes” to L’manburg, and poisoning them. This is never brought up again though and isn’t treated seriously*

“I wanna make sure it looks nice for when the gang gets on.” 31.35

*Schlatt joins the game, and joins vc. Wilbur is immediately panicked, telling him to make an alibi*

“How’s running L’man-Manburg going for you?” “It’s going great.” “Yeah, it’s a lovely place isn’t it, nice situation.” 34.30

*this continues a bit, Wilbur is very obviously not a big fan of this conversation. Schlatt talks about demolishing things. Wilbur’s tone is soft and somber*

W: “Oh- What are you demolishing.”

S: “The Elton John house.”

W: “Oh- that was-”

S: “I reckon we’ll take the rocket down as well, and maybe uh-”

W: “oh- ok”

S:“what is this thing, whad’you call this thing, Tubbo?”

T: “This is that cAHmrvan van”

W: *quietly* “the camARvan”

S: “The cAHmarvan?”

W: *quietly* “The camARvan” 

S: “That’s a stupid name, I reckon we put a big apartment building right over it.” 

*Wilbur moves away from his desk in shock, the conversation continues, Wilbur is shocked by the dress code being suits as Schlatt insults the revolutionary uniforms, leaves vc*

“Techno- I fucking hate him, Technoblade. He’s the fucking worst, you get it, you get it don’t you? He’s everything- he’s everything I cannot stand.” 37.32

*Wilbur talks about dismantling the oppressive government, and quotes Spongebob. They chat for bit, both misunderstanding anarchy dear god*

“One thing I really want to make sure of, cause as much as I’m still not entirely trustful of Tubbo, because he said it was a disguise... Tubbo said that he was wearing the suit as a disguise, right. Turns out that’s true. Turns out it’s the dresscode. So, Tubbo lied to me, which is not the best start for our political relationship, but y’know it’s cool, at least he’s actually online today, unlike- unlike one of my right hand men.”40.26

“Whilst I’m not entirely trustful of Tubbo, I would- still don’t wanna see him get hurt by Schlatt” 41.19

*Wilbur rejoins Schlatt’s vc. He’s still really bitter about being removed from Manburg. The whole Schlatt has diamonds in his furnace conversation happens. Schlatt asks where Niki lives, and Wilbur immediately leaves vc*

“Techno we need to get to the docks, this is your first mission under us, please comrade, please. armor. armor. We need to get to Manburg quickly, this isn’t a drill, this is first thing. We’re not gonna attack we’re just gonna watch, and then see what happens.”45.06

*Techno is mining, and Wilbur says he’ll get there on his own time before leaving. Wilbur arrives in Manburg and is disgusted by the apartment buildings, venturing in while Techno has no clue where Manburg is*

*Wilbur goes into Niki’s bakery*  “I think Schlatt’s just mugged Niki” 49.14

“Which is why I need you here, Technoblade. You’re kinda my last resort.”  50.00

*Wilbur looks over Manburg and watches Niki, Fundy, Schlatt, and Tubbo interact. They join Niki’s vc, Techno isn’t keeping hidden well and Wilbur is stressed. Wilbur is trying to balance both of them and making all the calls.*

W: “Niki I’ve gotta go, Niki I’ve gotta go, I promise- I- look- if- we’re in too much of a hot position right now to take in everyone from every sort of like person we need into our new cave. So you’re gonna have to hold out in Manburg a bit longer. Is that ok?”

N: “Of course. I will.”

W: “Mm k.”

N: “Take care, Wil.”

W: “Thank you.” 

W is obviously distraught at leaving her behind, but leaves vc. 55.05

Techno isn’t in vc, and Wilbur just softly goes “Comrade Technoblade? Is he- I’m on my own. I’m on my own.” 55.38

*Tommy joins the game and Techno joins vc* “I thought he was gone, no it’s Tommy. I didn’t think he’d be coming on, I didn’t think he’d- oh thank god!”

*they join vc with Tubbo Punz and Schlatt. Techno offers to “initiate order Kennedy” and Wilbur freaks out*

*Fundy joins vc*

S: “Fundy- Fundy- I y’know I wasn’t gonna do this so early into my reign, but I think you should have a promotion. I mean this is just such a good idea, this is just such a good idea.”

F: “You’re being very generous here Schlatt.”

W panics. “Don’t give him promotions, he’s too young, he doesn’t understand, he’s- he needs to learn more. No- he needs to learn more, I should know he’s my son.”

S: “I’m promoting him.”

F: “Wilbur, Imma need you to shut up for a second.”

W: “Don’t you speak like that to me, Fundy. Don’t forget where you came from,  Fundy.”

S: “What’s the relationship between you and Wilbur, Fundy?”

F: *sigh* “Wilbur, he’s just a founder, and I was born here, and nothing else. It’s literally everything there is to is to it.”

W, softly and sadly: “You know that’s not-”

Schlatt interrupts: “See, it’s so great to have natural-born citizens of Manburg, taking the country direction into their own hands. I mean, I really over this purple stripe, instead of that ugly blue one.”

*Wilbur has hand over his mouth in disbelief and sadness

F: “I must agree.”

*F and S continue to talk*

W, seemingly on the verge of tears: “I don’t know who you are anymore, Fundy, I don’t know who you are anymore.” he leaves the vc and joins Tommy. 

“I couldn’t be there anymore.”  1.01.36

*Immediately, Tommy tries to talk to him, while Wilbur is obviously angry and upset. Tommy is waiting for his command to burn down the flag.”

TO:“I’m stood here, by the flag with a flint and steel, Wilbur.”

W, panicked. “Tommy control yourself, control yourself, it’s not worth it.”

TO: “Do I take my shot?”

W: “Tommy do not take your shot.”

TO: “Wilbur he disrespected you!”

W, even more panicked: “He disrespected me, yes but we’ve talked about this Tommy. Tommy, if we cast the first stone-”

TO: “Wilbur, I wanna do it Wilbur.”

*now Tubbo shows up, holding a book*

W: “Tubbo, what is that book?”

TO: “I wanna do it!”

TU: “It’s, um, it’s nothing much, it’s not really anything worth worrying about.”

W, softly: “What is it. Why are you holding it.”

TU: “It’s- Schlatt has given me- It’s the papers Schlatt made me. Yeah, it’s what he, yeah.”

W: “Give it to me.”

TU: “Are you sure?”

TO at the same time: “Wilbur tell me now Fundy’s coming up. Do I light the fires of  victory, of independence?”

*W is reading the book MANBURG TO-DO*

TU: “Uh- I’m gonna need that back”

TO at the same time: I could do with a clear yes or no, this isn’t a- as much as silence is-

W interrupts, suddenly angry: “Tommy burn that place to the ground. Burn that place to the ground and try to as many people trapped in it as possible.”

TO laughs

TU: “I’m gonna need that book back- oh- oo.”

*W throws the book back*

TO: “Wilbur do I kill your son?”

W, no longer distracted: “Keep him alive, Tommy.”

TO: “Again- I could do, I’m actually-”

W: “Tommy, we’re comrades here.”

TO: “Wilbur, take one look at Manburg, cause it ain’t no more!”

W: “Tubbo, take me to Manburg.”

TU: “Ok.”

TO: “I could kill Schlatt and Big Q right now.”

W: “Keep them alive, we need them alive Tommy.”

TO: “Can I just shoot em once?”

W, exasperated: “If you want.”

TO: “Yeah, I did. It’s more of my own self fulfillment.”

W: *sighs* “We’ve cast the first stone. Our little ravine is now, it’s now in a difficult spot.” 1.03.30

*Wilbur meets Tubbo at Manburg and they head back to Pogtopia*

TO: “The flags gone, and your son is corrupt.”

W: “I know he is, and I don’t need reminding of that, Tommy.” 1.06.30

*Schlatt joins vc and tells Tommy to leave Manburg, and leaves again. Wilbur tells Tommy again not to burn down the forest, and is legitimately upset at the idea. He says it’s the thing they’re fighting against. Techno rejoins vc*

“Tommy, if you don’t fix the mistake you’ve made here, I don’t know if you’re the best fit for Pogtopia.” 1.10.46

*Wilbur asks Tubbo and Techno if they’ve checked the forest, but they’re both busy*

W: “Alright well I’ll go and looking for the fucking forest, I guess. I have to do everything around here.”

*Tubbo and Techno protest.*

W: “No no no, it’s fine you two are doing much harder work than I am.” 1.12.37

*Tubbo and Wilbur talk about how Quackity isn’t happy under Schlatt, how he’s protesting a lot of Schlatt’s measures.*

“He’s a man who I thought, really cared about his nation, but, hey y’know, I’ve been wrong before.” 1.13.55

*the conversation shifts to Fundy, and Wilbur recounts what Fundy said, clearly upset. Tubbo is shocked by this*

“It’s ok, it’s ok, y’know, cause, it’s fine! I- y’know, bonds are formed in blood, not family blood, the other blood, the blood where you stab shit. Yeah, that’s where bonds are formed.”1.14.55

*Tubbo, Techno, and Wilbur chat more, Schlatt joins vc for a bit. Tubbo and Wilbur keep up the bit that Tubbo is loyal to Schlatt until he leaves. Tubbo says explained his absence to Schlatt*

“Tubbo, you’re- see with Technoblade, right, I have no doubt that Technoblade is on my side, right. Cause with Technoblade, with Technoblade, right, I know that he wants blood, and he wants war. Cause that’s how Technoblade works y’know. He just wants to fight and he wants to kill bad guys, right. Yeah, look at him, he a little libertarian- little anarchist, right. So here’s what I’m saying, right: you however- little, I can’t tell if you’re cozying up to Schlatt to help spy, or if you’re cozying up to Schlatt because you quite like how he treats you. I mean look, Tubbo, I’ll be the first one to say it, I didn’t always treat you the best, on L’Manburg, and I know I didn’t, I- I- I was somewhat of a distant ruler- I pretty much only- don’t agree that fucking excitedly, man- look I wasn’t the best ruler I know I wasn’t. Well I think I was a good ruler, but I, I- Tubbo I don’t know if you are just prefering his rule over mine, and I feel like I gotta win you over.”

TU seems to disagree, but says ok.

TU: “Well I’m making this farm, I wouldn’t be putting in this much time if I wasn’t.”

W: No I know, I know, but that’s probably what’d you be saying to Schlatt as well if you were doing work for him.”

TU: “That is- that is very- yeah that is very true, actually.” 1.25.07

*Tubbo says his excuse is that he was pregnant in the name of being transparent. They discuss plans for the farm, and the stream ends*

Wilbur, raiding Niki: “Now, Niki is currently probably the last person who I know is on our side,, who I know is definitely on our side right now. And she, basically, is just sort of trapped in Manburg, cause I can’t get her out, cause we’ve got Tubbo out that’s fine, but I can’t get Niki out for a while. She’s being taxed and she’s being watched very closely by Schlatt. More closely than Tubbo, weirdly, and Schlatt is just being a horrible person to her as you know. So I’m gonna need you to go over there and I’m gonna need you to give her some love. “ <3 1.31.52

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending. 

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair. 

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked." 

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating. 

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

[starleska]

👀 for augustus st cloud?

ohhhh my God Augustus 😳😳😳 i can only apologise for continuing to clog up his tag but given that there's just me and perhaps three other people enlightened enough to sincerely adore him, i think it's okay 😂

okay like i said in my last ask about Augustus, i was in complete denial about finding him attractive in any way, because i'm an idiot...and so is he 😭😭 i adore characters who are filled with such an extreme level of confidence that it defies any kind of social norms. characters who are so self-assured and feel that they are consistently in control regardless of how anyone else perceives them. Augustus is the epitome of that trope. he's a decadent, selfish, vain, gatekeeping capitalist whose self-worth hangs entirely on his wealth, and being able to throw said wealth around to humiliate a man who is much smarter than him. and honestly, that is sexy 😂💖 i just love how intense and ridiculous he is. the depths to which he will sink, the complexity of the scenes he will craft all for the sole purpose of feeling superior ticks some boxes that...really shouldn't be ticked 😳

i know many people won't get it because he evolved from an amusing, yet promising, threat into pure comic relief, and he is intentionally written as an embarrassing, unlikable person, but man, he is still winning at everything!! his dynamic with Pete and Billy shows us that Augustus is a caricature of the kind of person we love to hate. someone who, regardless of their personal failings, hasn't ever needed to work a day in their lives - and they're totally fine no matter the losses they suffer. and i love that about him. he's a horrible human being who uses his exorbitant wealth on childish powerplays just to fuck with the heads of his enemies, because he has no concept of needing to help people.

those are two things i love in a character: a complete lack of concern for social mores and other people, and their level of focus. any character who literally makes a detail-perfect recreation of an 80s music video specifically to anger his enemies is on a level of unhinged i can't not be attracted to. likewise, i can't help but imagine what it would be like to be under that kind of laser-like attention. Augustus may spend most of his time attempting to prove his superiority over Billy, but he is highly intelligent and capable of some next-level cruelty. Spanakopita! is my absolute favourite episode of The Venture Brothers for all of the amazing Augustus content, especially because he is so in control of the whole thing. the way he cheats and rigs each of the games in favour? the fact that he was totally fine to kidnap and either kill or seriously harm Pete just to get the crown? fucking exquisite. he isn't above making people he doesn't like extremely uncomfortable, or even physically harming them. pure girlboss behaviour, i love him 🥰💖

plus, the voice. shut up i KNOW he sounds like the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons but (especially in his earlier, intimidating episodes) he has this gorgeous, throaty little drawl that just makes my heart skip;;; nerdy weirdos with strange voices get me eeeevery time. i legit think he looks cool as fuck too? i love a prissy, morally defunct capitalist (it's the Once-ler's fault) but he really do be rocking the purple suit + orange wig combo. i do headcanon the shades as being a medical necessity due to his disabilities, and damn if it isn't an excellent look. his mannerisms also delight me too 😭 he has this languid, unhurried way of walking, gesturing and talking which i genuinely find very attractive. as someone who simply wants to be negged, what is sexier than a man who has neither the time nor the inclination to even deign to address you? 😳

all in all, i love Augustus because he's vicious, petty, eccentric, stylish, and above all hilarious. literally everything that comes out of his mouth makes me smile. i feel that in his presence i would literally be incapable of experiencing day-to-day anxiety ever again, just based on his ludicrous and luxurious quality of life. Augustus was perhaps the best little fandom surprise i've had over the pandemic, and i'm grateful for all the content of him we got :3c

[ask game]

[animebaby00]

A Gift That's Bittersweet (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Valentine's Day 2021

"There we go...perfect."

You wiped your wrist across your forehead, admiring the sight before you.

A clean edged white box, adorned with a big red ribbon with small tag dangling from gold string that read:

To: Levi

Love: Y/N

Today was Valentine's Day. The day made especially for couples and loved ones, and you had just finished making your present for your own said beloved.

Corporal Levi Ackerman.

Your relationship was a... unique one. More so on Levi's side since everyone on the scouts thought that the short, ill-tempered man was incapable of many feelings, much less love.

But you changed that, though it wasn't exactly clear on who fell for who first.

He appreciated that you were such a good soldier. You never gave him any problems and never faltered to obey him. You also cleaned significantly better than everyone else and your personality was one that he could actually tolerate. He found himself drawn to you and oh boy how you were drawn to him.

Levi was very attractive to you. But not just in his looks. You were also attracted to his underlying care for his comrades and even the stupid little things on how he gripped his teacup. He had feelings surfaced much farther below than the average person and even before you had gotten together, he had shared those feelings and other experiences with you.

And you listened. You understood. You didn't judge. And for him, that sealed the deal.

A grin made its way into your face. Oh how you couldn't wait to give him your gift.

The box contained chocolates, completely homemade, ranging in a few different shapes and flavors. You had wanted to try making chocolate for quite sometime and so this gave you the perfect opportunity to do just that. So technically, yes, Levi was your guinea pig, but what Levi doesn't know won't hurt him. Plus, from the little licks you had taken off from the collection of mixing utensils you had used, you thought what you had sampled didn't taste half bad.

Alright. Time to deliver your present to your short-tempered (no pun intended) boyfriend.

You picked up the box and opened the door to the kitchen, walking out the door to your superiors office with a happy, little spring in your step.

~~~~~

It didn't take long for you to arrive, especially because of just how familiar you were on the route to Levi's office since you had probably been asked to go there from every single point in the building. From the training grounds, the barracks, the cafeteria, and so on. 

Oh the benefits of being the Corporal's girlfriend. 

Finally, you were met with the large, brown, oak door to his office. It was intimidating to some, but to you, it was just another ordinary door. 

You lay your fist against it, giving a few swift knocks.

A deep, flat-toned voice answered from inside. 

"State your name and business."

You snickered. He sounded so serious. 

A lot of people were so scared of his tone, to the point of peeing their pants, but not you. However, even though you knew he wouldn't care if you just waltzed in, you still kept it formal

"Cadet L/N. I have a...uh…" you looked down at the box in your hands, "A delivery for you, sir."

"You may enter."

In a haste, you maneuvered your arm so as to hide the box of chocolates behind your back, using the other to grasp the door handle and turned it, opening it just enough to fit your body through. 

You shimmied inside and closed the door behind you, standing before your superior who was intently reading through the dozens of documents splayed across his desk, his usual cup of tea in his hand. 

"What is it, cadet ?" He asked, face non moving. 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Playing it extra serious today are we ?

"Cadet ?" You inquired, "Hm. I could've sworn I had a name."

"Tch, brat." 

"No, that's not it either." 

The raven haired man sighed, leaning back against his chair. 

"Are you trying to be annoying ?" 

"Depends. Is it working ?" 

Apparently so, because an actual, tiny smirk etched its way into Levi's lips. He grunted, sitting up straighter and set down his tea cup and documents to give you his full attention.

"What is it, Y/N?"

"Much better," you giggled, walking towards him, "

"Got your work cut out for today, huh ?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." He grunted, running a hand through his raven hair, "Erwin has the rest in his office. This is only half."

You scrunched up your face, causing Levi to let out a rare, airy chuckle.

"My thoughts exactly, but it has to get done." He stood, walking over to you, "Now what do you need ?" 

"Nothing much," you crooned, "I just have a little something I want to give you. Close your eyes "

"Y/N, I really have to-"

"Please ? Just for a second.

Levi sighed, but abided by your wishes and closed his silvery orbs. You ducked your head lower to make sure they were completely shut before pulling the box out from behind you.

"Okay. Open."

He did, blinking a few times before looking downwards at the box in your hands.

"Happy Valentine's Day Levi !"

He blinked again, casting his gaze to look up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong ? Why do you look so confused?" You asked.

"You... actually got me a Valentine's Day present ?"

"Of course I did." You smiled, pushing the box forward, "Here. Open it."

He slowly took the box from your hands and took care in removing the ribbon tied around it. You kept your eyes on his nimble fingers as they worked away at perfectly untying the ribbon.

You new Levi completed every task perfectly and put his fullest intent into everything he did.

Apparently unwrapping something as simple as a present applied to those standards as well.

Finally, the bow was removed and you were near bouncing on the balls of your feet as he lifted the lid of the box, and when he realized its contents, he looked up at you once more.

"Chocolates ?"

"Mmhm !" You confirmed "Completely homemade especially for you."

"Y/N…" he trailed, with slight uncertainty, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know I'm not the biggest fan of sweets."

"I know," you chirped, leaning towards him with your index finger pointing in the air, winking, "That's why I said especially for you."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Well…" you started, picking up one of the decadent little desserts, "Why don't you try one ?"

"I don't-"

"Come onnnn Levi." you pushed the sweet close to him, "Just try it."

A sigh of defeat left Levi's mouth as he grabbed your wrist, leaning his head forward to place his teeth on the chocolate you held off to him. He then bit it in half and began to chew.

Albeit, ever so slightly, his eyes widened.

The flavor of the chocolate was unexpected. It was unlike anything he had ever had before.

It wasn't overly sweet at all, in fact it had a tart bitterness to it that he actually rather enjoyed. It had just the right amount of richness and dare he say a little bit of saltiness as well.

But every single flavor he tasted complimented each other perfectly.

You had a smile on your face the entire time as you watched him chew, eager at his facial expression and when he finally swallowed.

"So…?"

"They're...good."

"I knew you would like them !", You grinned, eyes sparkling as you clasped your hands together, "I thought you'd appreciate something a little stronger so I opted for dark chocolate instead of milk. I also didn't add as much sugar as they said and I also made use of a little bit of pure sea salt to give it a different flavor. Some of them are also plain like the one that I just gave you but also took some care into making some different flavors."

You pointed at one of the rounder pieces of chocolate, "That one has chopped hazelnuts in it," you pointed to the one next to it, "And this one has a fudge mouse but don't worry I didn't make that too sweet either. And this one,"

You pointed at a chocolate that looked a little bit different than the other ones. It was almost a dark burgundy purple and there were a few others just like it in the box, "Is infused with tea leaves. I made quite a few of these ones because I thought you would enjoy them the most because...well...you're always drinking tea. But I don't want to reveal what they all are because I want you to be sup-mmph?!"

In one, swift movement, you were silenced by a pair of lips. They were warm, soft, and familiar and ironically tasted exactly like a cup of tea.

Levi didn't press himself forward to kiss you like this too often so you wanted to enjoy it but he pulled himself away far too quickly enough for you to be able to, leaving you somewhat breathless and a little frustrated as your lip puffed out in a pout.

"You talk too much." he stated simply.

"And you tease too much." you grumbled.

A low hum left Levi's throat as he turned to put the box of chocolates on his desk before carding his head back to look at you.

And did something you weren't expecting.

"Thank you for the chocolates, Y/N."

Your eyes widened.

Even though you two were together...hearing Levi actually say thank you was just...wow.

You didn't know what to say, and he chuckled again at your somewhat dumbfounded expression.

"Are you at a loss for words for once in your life ?"

You flinched, shaking your head, "N-no I just...I'm just not used to-", you trailed off as he leaned against his desk, arms folding over each other as tilted his head amusingly to the side.

Your heart was beating in your rib cage. Why did he have to be so...so…

"Y-you have work to do right ?" You asked hastily, stepping backwards, "Y-yeah of course you do ! So I'll be leaving now ! See you later !"

But you didn't even manage to get one foot out the door as Levi grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you close to his body, causing you to let out a little yelp of surprise as his head pushed into the crease of your neck.

"L-Levi ?"

"Come by my office after dinner tonight."

Your breath hitched,"W-why?"

He leveled a hand to the side of your face, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, lips inches from your collar bone.

"So I can give you your present."

[cockslutpadalecki]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell (Prologue)

Summary: When Sam marries into Y/N's family he naively believes she's a little princess incapable of putting a step wrong. But once he comes face to face with evidence that proves she's far from angelic which also implicates his own brother in her misdeeds, Sam finds himself battling against his own moral judgement.

Characters: Step Dad!Sam x Step Daughter!Reader, Uncle!Dean x Niece!Reader.

Words: 703.

Warnings: stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, oral sex (male and female receiving), sexting, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, female masturbation, bratty!reader, daddy kink, size kink, cheesy double entendres, Dean's filthy whore mouth. Assume all tags with apply to every chapter and warnings may differ/alter as story progresses.

A/N: I blame for @negans-lucille-tblr and @mummybear for this - this was intended to just be a one shot, but when it got closer to the day I was meant to be posting to Patreon and I was 3K in with no end in sight, they convinced me to turn into a series, so send your letters of thanks to them. Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists/taglists can be found in my bio. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Chapters one and two already available on Patreon.

Pulling your key from the lock, you attempt to shut the front door behind you as quietly as you can so not to draw any attention to yourself. A crappy AT&T advert blares from the TV in the lounge and you’re thankful for the noise absorbing your footsteps on the laminate.

You’re inches from the staircase, seconds from being home and dry when you hear your step dad's deep voice call out from behind you. “Hey, where’ve you been? It’s late.”

Turning on your heel, you spin round to face him. Clearly it’s been another tough day at the office as Sam’s still dressed in his suit, albeit more creased now than it was when he left for work this morning. Hands shoved in his pockets and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the prominence of his thick, veiny forearms makes you swallow thickly.

The sight wouldn’t usually bother you, but there’s something about Sam that causes your thighs to clench and with three of the buttons on his shirt popped, the small patch of hair dusting his broad, tanned chest poking out from underneath you find your breath catching in your throat.

���So—sorry,” you start shifting nervously from one foot to the other, afraid Sam will see straight through your facade, “study group ran later than I expected.”

His eyes narrow, scrutinising you momentarily. “Where are your books?”

Shit. Think, think, think.

“Um, oh, I left them at Janey’s. Going to study with her again tomorrow, got a big test at the end of the week.”

It shouldn’t be this easy to lie. Or this fun.

His features drop into a soft smile, seemingly satisfied with your excuse. Jeez, for a lawyer he sure is dumb. “I see,” he sighs. “Well, you better get to bed. Your mom asked me to drop you off at school tomorrow, but I need to be at the office early.”

“Oh… okay,” you nod awkwardly. The thought of being confined to a vehicle with him when he’s all smartly dressed and smelling like masculinity personified causes your pussy to tingle more than it already is. “Night then,” you add and slowly begin to ascend the stairs.

Sam bids you goodnight, but he makes no attempt to move and you know that from the spot he’s stood in he’ll be able to see right up your skirt.

-

Expecting Sam to call you back down at any moment, you climb the stairs faster than normal causing the cum still tacky on your thighs to stick and unpeel with every movement. You finally reach your room and slam the door behind you, your heartbeat racing at a million times a minute as you slump against it.

Your focus is drawn to the dusky pink colour of your walls and the barely-pubescent theme that flows through the room - it suddenly feels too childish… too innocent to be yours. Your bed’s never looked more inviting as you stumble towards it and past your desk, the books you were meant to be studying with still sat in the same position you left them in to gather dust.

You start to tug at your clothes, desperate to undress and climb under the covers as your cell pings in the pocket of your hoodie. Pulling it out, a familiar name pops up on the screen along with their message and a photo attached.

Hesitantly you open it, a small smirk pulling at the corners of your lips despite the chagrin flooding your veins. It’s a close up of his face - two fingers shoved between his lips, the hollow of his cheeks indicative of him heartily sucking down on them. The image conjures up a thousand depraved thoughts; choking on his cock, your own cheeks dimpling around him followed by his hands deftly stripping you of your panties before those very same fingers slipped between your thighs, ripping orgasm after orgasm from your pussy.

> Already missing that tight little cunt baby girl x

Heat starts to curl in the pit of your belly as you debate what to reply, typing and deleting a hundred sentences until you settle on one and press send before you can regret it.

< Miss you too Uncle Dean x

***

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