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serpentandlily · 8 months

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Untouchable IV - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: ahhh guys I literally love all of you so much. Thanks for all the love and support on this story!! Hope you enjoy this one just as much!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part IV

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stared at yourself in the mirror, quite happy with that way you looked. You were getting ready to make a trip to Hewn City with the rest of the Inner Circle, so you could be announced as their new Overseer. Already donning your mask, a mask you wore just as well as your brother could. You were, after all, raised by the same cruel, unflinching male. After your father died, Rhys had made sure to continue teaching you how to handle the unsavory parts of the Night Court as best he could.

So you had put on a dress that demanded attention. It was Night Court black, of course, with a halter top bodice that connected to a high neck collar. Starting from just below your breasts, the dress was cut into two panels to cover your front and back, laced together with a black ribbon on the sides. It clung to your curves and showed off more skin than you usually did.

The entire side of your legs, your hip bone and waist, all exposed and accentuated by the dress. Some kohl liner brought your star-flecked, violet eyes to life. Your hair was curled and spilled down your back freely. You felt beautiful. Devastatingly beautiful. The Princess of Night.

You finished the look with the diadem your brother had given you. It was made of Illyrian metal with dark red jewels decorating the intricately twisted vines. It was perfect for the Court of Nightmares.

As you made your way down the stairs, you could already feel the disapproving stare of your brother. Only him and Cassian were waiting in the foyer. Cass was in his Illyrian leathers and your brother was wearing a finely tailored black coat and pants with his own crown on his head.

“Nice try, dove,” Rhys chided. “Go back upstairs and change into the dress I had Nuala lay out for you this morning.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No. I bought this one specifically for today and I’m going to wear it.”

“No, you’re not.” Cass snorted as Rhys tried to assert his dominance. “Go change. Now.”

“No. I’m wearing this. You can’t make me change my mind.”

“Oh, I can make you,” your brother sneered. He could, you supposed, use his High Lord voice to order you to change. And then you literally wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Before he could though, you shouted for his mate. “Feyre!”

Your High Lady and sister-in-law walked into the room with a baby Nyx on her hip. She was wearing a beautiful, glimmering black dress that fell in a deep v to her navel. Slits on both sides of the skirt exposing her legs and a twin crown to the one Rhys was wearing sat on her head. Nyx was also dressed in black with a tiny version of their crown on his own head. The sight of them both was too adorable.

“What’s going on out here?” Feyre asked, sliding up to Rhys’s side. He strung an arm around her, pulling her and his son close.

You gave your brother a cheeky grin. “Your mate wants me to go change because he’s a big, overprotective, insufferable bat.”

Your brother glared at you as Feyre smacked his arm. “Leave your sister alone, Rhys. She can wear whatever she wants.”

The two of you shared a smile as Rhys let out a sigh of annoyance. “You know, I thought having a mate meant always having someone on your side. I would’ve never brought you here if I knew you’d end up conspiring with my sister against me all the time.”

“You're lucky you ended up with such a smart, beautiful mate that can check you before you embarrass yourself, Rhysie,” you laughed as Feyre stuck her tongue out at him. Rhys scoffed at both of you as you giggled with each other at his reaction.

“What are you guys giggling about out here?” Mor and Nesta walked into the room, both dressed as finely as everyone else.

Feyre started to answer Mor but your attention drifted as Azriel appeared in the shadow of the hallway, striding towards the group. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers like Cass, all seven of his cobalt siphons on display. Azriel always looked intimidating, but even more so today as his leathers clung to his muscles and highlighted the lethality of his stone-cut face.

His eyes immediately locked onto yours and widened as he took you in. His gaze dipped down and roamed your entire body and when he looked back up, his eyes were filled with hunger and heat, before he blinked and his cold mask was back on. You gave him no reaction, merely glancing away from him as if his presence had no effect on you. But the butterflies in your stomach begged otherwise.

Elain came walking down the stairs at the same time, dressed in black yet way more modestly than the rest of you. You couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looked.

“You’re coming?” Nesta asked, peering at Elain in surprise. “I thought Hewn City was far too much for you delicate sensibilities.”

Mor snorted as Elain scowled at her sister. “I’m only coming to show my support for y/n.”

She smiled at you and you gave her a grateful nod. Even if you were jealous of her for winning over the shadowsinger, you’d never blame her for him being an asshole. You also didn’t want Azriel to know you were bothered about it. You might not be as prideful as your brother was, but you’d rather suffer in complete silence than let anyone think they’ve made you feel insecure. Perhaps it was a family trait.

“I’ve had your stuff, and Azriel’s, sent over to the Moonstone Palace already,” Rhys said as everyone congregated. “So you can spend the rest of the week getting situated with your new role as planned.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But I already asked Cass to be my escort and he agreed–”

“Cassian forgot he has other duties that I already assigned to him this week.”

Cassian gave you a sheepish look and you let out a huff. “What about Balthazar?”

Balthazar was the Illyrian warrior who had helped Nesta and Emerie during the Blood Rite. He now worked closely with training the Illyrian females and helping them merge with the Valkyries. He was a good male and an excellent warrior—but more importantly, he wasn’t Azriel.

You could feel Azriel’s stare as you kept your focus on your brother. He waved a dismissive hand. “Azriel’s already agreed and I’d rather him guard over my sister than some untested Illyrian.”

Your hands clenched, annoyed but you nodded, not wanting your brother to get suspicious. With that, your brother winnowed the group to the gates leading into the Court of Nightmares. You took your place behind Feyre and Rhysand and Azriel slid into the space next to you as your designated guard, apparently. You managed to keep your stare straight forward as you began to walk towards the throne room.

Azriel took a step closer to you, his shadows cascading around your ankles. “Do you hate my presence so much now that you’d rather some random brute take my place as your guardian?” he muttered under his breath.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one who told me to stay away from you. I’m only doing as you asked. And Balthazar is not some random brute. He is a friend.”

“Since when?” he hissed.

“Not that it's any of your business, but I had been helping with the training of the Illyrian females before I left for the continent. Balthazar is another one of the trainers.”

Azriel said nothing else as your group finally entered the throne room. You could feel the stares of all the fae in the room, likely wondering why the High Lord had called for a party. You followed Rhys and Feyre to the dais, where Azriel held out a gloved hand to help you up the steps. You grabbed it, not wanting to embarrass him in front of a bunch of vultures who already thought of him as less than, and took your place behind Rhys’s throne.

You and Feyre were the two people in your brother’s life that he had vowed would never have to bow to anyone. And he took that quite seriously. So while everyone else was forced to lower themselves to the ground, you stood at his side.

You glanced at the crowd of people in the throne room. Your eyes widened as you noticed Eris next to Keir. You hadn’t been expecting him.

“You can rise now,” Feyre said after leaving them on the floor for a few moments.

And then it was time for the big announcement.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The party was in full swing, music playing, faeries dancing. Despite their despise for their High Lord, the fae down here took any excuse to get up to some debauchery. You still remained at the dais next to your brother, Azriel now a step behind you, like the guardian he was supposed to be.

Cassian stood on the other side of the dais by Feyre with Nesta, both ready to protect her and baby Nyx should they have to. Mor had claimed a table where she and Elain now sat, the latter looking uncomfortable as she peered around at the party taking place.

Keir stood before Rhys and Feyre, a forced look of respect on his face. It seemed to almost pain him and you had to hide your grin.

“My Lord, if I may ask, why have you decided to pass along the role of Overseer to someone as young and unpracticed as your sister?” Keir asked, his voice full of condescension. “And to do so without any input from me. It seems like an insult to us in this court—to not have one of our own be a representation for Hewn City.”

“I think you forget yourself, Keir,” Rhys sneered. “Me and your High Lady make every decision for this court and we certainly don’t require your input nor your opinions. You will show my sister respect. She is more than capable of what her title requires of her.”

“Can you blame me, my Lord, for having my doubts? Your sister has never dealt with court politics. It might be naive to place her in such a position.”

You took a step forward, standing tall as you looked down at your uncle. “You seem to forget, uncle, that I was the one who ran the Night Court during my brother’s absence for fifty years. You also seem to forget that your daughter’s mercy is the only reason you are still standing here today. Watch your mouth or perhaps you will find that I do not share the same leniency towards you as she does.”

Keir’s face twisted into an ugly scowl, but he did the smart thing by keeping his mouth shut. Though his eyes flickered towards the shadowsinger over your shoulder and a bit of fear flashed through him. Luckily, he didn’t hold your attention for long as a redhead suddenly appeared in front of you, at the bottom of the platform’s steps.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Eris purred, holding out his hand to you. His eyes roamed down the length of your body before they met yours. Your brother’s hands tightened on his throne’s arm rests but one look from Feyre kept his mouth shut.

You placed your hand in his, blushing slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Would you allow me the honor of being your first dance tonight, Princess?”

Azriel growled in warning from behind you but you ignored him, instead looking towards your brother. He gave you a slight dip of the head as permission to leave your post, so you let Eris help you down the steps.

Eris escorted you to the dance floor just as a new song began. You let Eris begin to lead you through the dance, one hand in his and the other one on his shoulder, as his free arm looped around your waist.

“It is a surprise to see Rhysand finally letting his coveted little bird out of her cage,” Eris whispered into your ear as he twirled you around the dance floor, a devilish smirk on his face.

“He can be persuaded,” you whispered back with a feline smile of your own.

“Does that have anything to do with a shadowsinger who looks like he wants to kill me more than usual?”

As he spun you around, you couldn’t help but glance at Azriel. He had moved from his post closer to the dance floor, to keep you and Eris in his line of sight.

His eyes were narrowed, his shadows spiraling around him like snakes ready to strike, as he watched you dance with Eris. You wanted to roll your eyes at his behavior. He didn’t get to be a complete asshole to you and then act all protective.

“It has nothing to do with the shadowsinger,” you answered, gasping as Eris yanked you closer just in time to get out of the way of another couple drunkenly dancing. “It was all my negotiating that got me my new title. So I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now?”

“It seems so, my Lady,” Eris crooned.

His amber eyes flashed to something over your shoulder and based on the smirk that spread on his face, that something was probably a certain shadowsinger. He met your gaze again, mischief sparkling on his face.

“In fact, there is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with Mor in private, but I guess now that would be you, wouldn't it?”

You nodded, peering around and noting Rhys and Feyre distracted by a line of couriers vying for their attention. Keir was off in a dark corner conversing with a male you recognized as Lord Thanatos. You looked back at Eris and he quirked an eyebrow. “It appears most everyone has their hands occupied right now. Shall we seek somewhere private after this?”

Eris leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “I’d like that very much, Princess.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes as he stood back up with a charming grin on his face. “You are as much of a flirt as your brother is,” you chided, waiting for the song to end so you could make your exit without drawing attention.

“Don’t tell me you’re referring to little Lucien? Doesn’t he have a mate he's still pining after?”

As you were spun again, you glanced back at Azriel, whose arms were crossed as he continued to glare in your direction. Good, you were glad he was upset.

“Not lately,” you answered. It was true; Lucien rarely came around if Elain was present. He seemed to have given up on trying to win her attention for the time being. Perhaps he had also noticed the growing interest between her and Azriel.

“Well I say good for him,” Eris chuckled. “A Vanserra has never had to beg a female for her heart. They merely present it to us on a platter.”

“You are so full of it, Eris.”

The music finally lulled to a stop and Eris let go of you, holding out his arm instead. “Allow me to prove it to you, Princess.”

You slipped a hand into the crevice of his elbow as you dipped out of the throne room before anyone could notice. Just as you had stepped into the corridor, a cold hand wrapped around your upper arm, halting the both of you. You already knew who it was before you turned around.

Azriel was seething as he glanced between the two of you. “You aren’t supposed to go anywhere without an escort, y/n. You know that.”

You glanced at him as if he were inconveniencing you, though you knew he had followed. “I have one,” you replied, nodding your head towards Eris, who gave the shadowsinger a cunning smirk.

“He doesn’t count,” Azriel hissed.

“Fine, then I guess it’s a good thing you’re here,” you shrugged before turning back around and leading Eris down the hallway. “Come, I know a private place we can go to.”

You chatted with Eris as you walked, completely ignoring the angry bat that followed one step behind. Azriel was really starting to confuse you further. What the hell was he so upset about when he made his choice in Elain so clear?

You took them down a dark, narrowed hall that looked like it was a dead end but a door appeared as you approached. It was just another secret meeting room. There were many in this court and you were familiar with most. You let Eris enter first and stood in the threshold blocking Azriel’s way.

“Thank you, Azriel,” you said politely. “But I have it from here.”

Azriel looked at you and then over your shoulder at Eris, his eyes full of icy rage. “Your brother has ordered me to stay with you at all times, y/n. Especially in the case of being around someone who may wish you harm.”

Eris snorted and you glanced back at him. “Hm Eris, do you plan on harming me?”

“I was hoping to do quite the opposite, Princess.” His voice was full of wicked promise.

Azriel growled lowly and the noise sent a shiver down your spine that you fought to cover up. “See, there’s no need for you here,” you chimed and then before he could even take a step forward, you slammed the door in his face and locked it. You quickly threw up a ward knowing he’d still try to spy with his shadows.

Eris chuckled as he sat down on one of the plush couches. You took a seat on the one opposite, conjuring up a tray with two empty glasses and a bottle of expensive liquor on the coffee table between you.

“So, what is it you wanted to discuss?” you asked as you poured the both of you a glass.

“Oh, there is nothing of importance for us to discuss. I just quite enjoy getting a rise out of the shadowsinger and for some reason, he seems to be particularly bothered with my proximity to you.” Eris crossed his legs and threw his arm around the back of the couch. The perfect picture of a male proud of himself. “Thank you for unintentionally helping me in my quest. I’m sure your shadowsinger thinks I’m trying to seduce you in here.”

“Are you serious?” you scoffed. “You pulled me from enjoying my own party just to make Azriel upset?”

“Oh please, we both know no one enjoys the parties down here.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “And it wasn’t the only reason. It's not very often that Rhys lets his little sister be in the presence of those he considered unsavory. Perhaps I am interested in your company as well.”

“Well you’ve got my full, undivided attention now,” you replied, sitting back against the couch with your glass in your hand.

Eris grabbed his glass as well, twirling it in his hand as he studied you. “So, tell me, why is it that the shadowsinger is pacing back and forth in front of the door, cursing me under his breath, as we speak?”

“He’s an overprotective, Illyrian bat. Just like my brother and Cassian,” you said in dismissal.

“Hm, I’m not quite sure that’s the only reason.”

“You seem to have an obsession with Azriel, Eris. Do you want me to put in a good word for you?” You gave him a brazen smile.

“Alright, little bird, I’ll drop it. I’m far more interested in the beautiful female sitting in front of me as it is.” You hated that your cheeks turned pink at his words. Eris was handsome with his red hair and amber eyes. Even his scent of cinnamon and vetiver was enticing. But he just wasn’t Azriel. “Will you indulge me in a game of chess as we chat?”

Glad to move on from the subject, you did just that.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Alright, that’s enough—”

You were nearly three rounds deep in a game of chess when the door burst open and Azriel came stalking inside. You jumped a bit at the intrusion as Eris’s focus stayed on the chessboard like he had anticipated this.

You looked up at the shadowsinger who was panting, his hair in disarray. His eyes widened as he took in the casual scene of you and Eris playing a game of chess. You raised an eyebrow at him but he only continued to glower at Eris.

“Enough of what, shadowsinger?” Eris asked nonchalantly as he moved one of his chess pieces.

“Enough of whatever the fuck you guys are doing,” Azriel huffed before looking at you with his arms crossed. “You’re needed back in the throne room. Now.”

You very much doubted that, but decided to play along. You were losing this game anyways. You set your glass down on the table and stood, straightening out your gown. “Apologies, Eris, but apparently, duty calls.”

Eris stood as well, gathering his coat that he had discarded at one point. “I should be getting back before my father grows suspicious anyways. I would very much like to do this again, Princess, if you’ll have me,” he said, grasping your hand and pressing a kiss to it like he did before.

You gave him a slight dip of the head. “You know where to find me.”

He said his goodbyes, not without throwing a smirk in Azriel’s direction, before he disappeared, leaving only some crackling embers in his wake. You went to leave the room but Azriel reached an arm over your head and shut the door right in your face. You let out a disgruntled noise and turned around to Azriel towering over you, his gaze darkened.

“I thought I was needed in the throne room,” you said, sarcastically.

He ignored you, keeping one hand on the door to keep it closed as he watched you. “So, you’re into Eris now? He’s a dangerous male, y/n.”

“I think I can decide that for myself,” you snapped. “Maybe I am interested in him. What does it matter to you?”

He took a step closer, boxing you in against the door much like he had done that night. “I already told you it matters to me.”

“You also told me to stay away from you. So why did you agree to be my guard for the next week? Why the fuck are you here?”

“Because someone has to watch over you! Especially when you decide to go strutting around in a dress like this,” he growled. “Tell me something, Princess, just who exactly did you have in mind when you put this on?”

His gloved hand trailed up the side of your thigh, to where the dress was held together with ribbon. You hated how much your skin tingled at his touch, hated the butterflies that arose in your stomach at his heated stare. Hating how your heart picked up its pace.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “If you’re implying that it was you I was thinking of, Azriel, then I’d say you think far too highly of yourself.”

“Your body says otherwise,” he growled, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You put both your hands on his chest and pushed him away. “No, no! You don’t get to do this, Azriel! You came to me. You came to my balcony, almost kissed me, and then disappeared for days! And then the next time I saw you, you had your tongue down Elain’s throat before running off to go fuck eachother.”

“I didn’t fuck Elain,” he grunted. “I’ve never fucked Elain.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No…I don’t know—fuck!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I did as you said. I left you alone like you wanted,” you spat at him. “You cannot come back to me and cast any sort of judgment on who I wish to spend my time with. You can’t come to me and act like you want me now. You had your chance and you were the one who walked away. So why won’t you just leave me alone?”

You said the words but your heart was screaming the opposite. All you wanted was to grab him, to kiss him, to continue where you guys had left off that night. You can tell in the way he stared at you that he wanted the same. But you deserved better than that—better than this.

“Because I can’t. I can’t stay away from you,” Azriel said. He looked unhinged, desperate. As if your mere presence caused him such conflict. His eyes were pleading you for something, but you had no idea what he even wanted. He was so hot and cold.

So you squared your shoulders and straightened the crown on your head.

“Well, that's your problem not mine,” you said before finally leaving the room.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Gods, the last few days had been draining. Dealing with Keir was a headache without having to also be around the brooding shadowsinger. You two hadn’t spoken to each other besides small words in passing and you tried to ignore his heavy gaze most of the time. The rest of your family had returned to Velaris after the party, leaving just you two to occupy the Moonstone Palace. Thankfully it was a rather big place which made it easier to avoid Azriel.

But you still had half a week left with him here.

You sank yourself further down in the bathtub, twisting your wine glass in your hand. You had a lot to think about. Your brother was crafting a response to Prince Cedric and needed your input of whether you wished to get to know him better, if you felt anything towards him. Eris had also sent you a letter today. Apparently this time he actually did have something of importance to share with you, but had also admitted to wishing to see you again.

Perhaps it was time to move on from Azriel. Prince Cedric was handsome and kind, with his wavy blonde hair and cerulean eyes. But he lived on the continent, would eventually rule there, and you didn’t know if you could live so far away from your brother, nephew and soon to be niece.

And then there was Eris. All the Vanserra males were annoyingly attractive and one day soon, he’d be the High Lord of Autumn. But he was complex. Half the time you didn’t even know which mask was his real personality. Was he really a kind male underneath that cruel armor he wore? Not to mention his past with your cousin.

You sighed and drank the rest of your wine before getting out of the bath. You pulled on your silk nightgown, the Palace charmed too warm to wear anything else to sleep, and dried your hair with some magic. It was late and you figured it was safe enough now to wonder about—figuring Azriel was asleep or at the very least, in his own bed chambers.

You made your way down the vast corridors until you ended up right in front of the double doors leading into the study. Your brain was restless right now, but maybe some reading would help. You pushed the doors open and immediately wanted to curse the Mother. Of course you would jinx yourself. Of course the shadowsinger would be in the study already.

Azriel looked up as the doors opened, his eyes finding yours. He looked…rough. His hair was in disarray, his eyes shadowed, and an almost empty bottle of whiskey sat on the small table in front of the armchair he was sitting in. You stood there for a moment, both staring at each other, until the doors slamming closed behind you made you jump.

You let out a sigh and turned around, ready to leave, when his voice stopped you. “Don’t…Don’t leave. Please.”

The desperation in his voice made you pause and you studied the intricate doors in front of you. You should leave. You absolutely should walk through those doors and go back to your private bed chambers. But…But this tension between the two of you was a dark cloud lingering over you. You had never had a contentious relationship with anyone in the Inner Circle.

So you stayed, turning around and letting out a gasp as you came face to face with Azriel. You hadn’t even heard him move, hadn’t heard him even get up. You placed a hand over your heart and took a step back, putting more distance between the two of you.

He reached for you but you took another step back, sniffing the air. “You’re drunk, Az.”

“I know,” he said, darkly. “But I can’t take this shit anymore. I can’t do anything when I know how upset you are with me. I hate it, y/n. I hate that I’ve hurt you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, upset. How could he be taking this so poorly when he was the one who caused all of this? You said nothing, just stared at him expectantly.

“Princess…” he trailed off, staring down at you with melancholy eyes. “I…Can we please just forget about the past week? I can’t stand you being upset with me. Can we just…go back to how things used to be—before all of this?”

“How?” you breathed out. “How am I just supposed to forget?”

How could you forget the hurt he had caused you…how could you erase the image of him and Elain stumbling into the River House in a heat of passion…by the cauldron, how could you forget about the way he treated you at training…and the night on the balcony afterwards. How?

“I don’t know,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. He looked devastating in the dim faelights of the study, surrounded by marble bookcases and the open walls looking out towards the mountains. Even as dishelved as he was. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you. I fucked up. I should’ve never come to you that night…I should’ve never touched you.”

Hurt flashed across your face. Had he really not wanted you that night? Had you completely misinterpreted his actions? Was he about to finally tell you he didn’t want you—that he wanted Elain and was sorry for leading you on? You didn’t know if your heart could take it…

“No, don’t…” Azriel said, seeming to notice where your thoughts had turned. “I don’t mean it like that, princess.” He reached a hand forward, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “I did want you…I still do. But you have to understand, we can’t. This…us…it can never happen.”

“Why?” you choked out. He didn’t make any sense. If you wanted him, and he wanted you, then what the hell was stopping either of you? Was he scared of how your brother might react? If that was the case then he could just say so. You could deal with Rhys.

His hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin. You shouldn’t let him touch you. Shouldn’t even be so close to him. But Gods, your heart ached for his touch.

“Because,” he started, then faltered for a moment. “Because it just can’t, princess. I’m sorry.”

You pushed his hand away from you. “You owe me more than that, Azriel! You owe me a godsdamn explanation. Why? Why can’t it happen? Because of Elain–”

“No,” he growled. “It has nothing to do with Elain. I don’t even care about Elain. I just want you—”

“I don’t think you know what you want, Azriel,” you scoffed. “You can’t stand here and say you don’t want Elain after what I witnessed between you two. I saw you, you know, in the kitchens that night. I saw you together before I even went to the continent. So don’t tell me you don’t want her, don’t care for her!”

“It’s the truth,” he pleaded. “I swear to the Gods themselves. I don’t want Elain. I have never wanted Elain. I have never even wanted Mor. All I’ve ever wanted was you. You and only you.”

“You’re not making any sense,” you cried. “How can you even say that? I watched you pine after Mor for years! And now everything with Elain—”

“I need you to understand, princess. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to. But we cannot happen. I saw the way you looked at me and Gods, I wanted nothing other than to tell you how I felt. But you…I can never have you. So I pretended to pine after Mor for years hoping you’d move on. And then she came out to all of us, told us she preferred females, so I had to find someone else—”

“You expect me to believe that this whole time you’ve been pretending to like other girls? Mor, maybe I can believe because you never pursued her. But Elain? Azriel, I stumbled upon you guys twice! It certainly didn’t look like you were pretending.”

“Because that night in the kitchens I was trying to make myself want her. Make myself want anyone other than you. Because I can’t have you, princess, don’t you get it! It’s fucking agony to crave you the way I do and not be able to do anything about it. So I tried, Gods, I tried to move on. But it didn’t work. We never got past what you saw. I couldn’t force myself to want her because I don’t. I don’t want anyone other than you.”

“And what about the second time? Were you just pretending then, as well?”

“I knew you were home that night. I had been tracking you the whole day with my shadows. After what happened between us on the balcony, I was scared you’d try to act on your feelings for me. So I purposefully sought out Elain. Purposefully led her back when I knew you’d be there to catch us. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you but I needed you to move on. Even if it meant you’d hate me.”

“I-I don’t understand,” you stuttered. “If you want me and I want you, then what’s stopping us, Azriel? Why do you keep saying you can’t have me? Is it because of my brother? Do you think he wouldn’t approve—wouldn’t think you deserving? Because you are, Az. I love—”

Azriel surged forward and pressed you against the door with a hand around your mouth, wings snapped out to their full length. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, your chest heaving.

“Don’t,” he snarled. “Don’t say it. Don’t. I won’t be able to control myself and this will all be for nothing. This will all end horribly.”

When you made no move to say anything else, his hand slowly dropped from your mouth. You felt tears line your eyes. You felt frustrated, mad, upset. You couldn’t wrap your head around what he was trying to tell you.

“At least tell me why, Azriel. Don’t you think I deserve that? You said you’re sorry for hurting me but can’t you see how much you’re hurting me by doing this? It hurts more to know you want me the way I want you but not enough to be with me.”

Azriel let out a groan and sank to his knees in front of you, bowing his head. “You have no idea how much I want you, princess. No idea. It is you who is in my head every single second of every single day. It is you I think about as I fall asleep and you I think about the moment I awake. I would crawl through hell on my knees just to be able to kiss you, to hold you, to love you. But I can’t….I can’t, y/n.”

You held your breath, a few tears leaking from your eyes. This was everything you’d ever wanted. These were words he had only ever told you in your dreams. And here he was, finally saying them for real. But in the same breath, telling you that this, that you and him, would never, ever happen.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why?”

But Azriel said nothing further. Just knelt on his knees in front of you like he was praying to the Gods, his head bowed between his shoulders, his wings drooping against the floor. You waited for him to say anything, anything that might help you understand. But nothing…nothing ever came from his mouth.

You loosened a breath, your heart heavy in your chest and left.

Left Azriel on his knees in that room, with the words he said hanging over him like a death sentence.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @nightless @a-frog-with-a-laptop @woodland-mist @tothestarsandwhateverend @lizziesfirstwife @e-dollly @hyemishii @pricklepearbloom @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @bookishbroadwaybish @pinkangelskies @naturakaashi @sofietargaryen @minakay @alexboshallex @amysangel @i-am-infinite @furiousbooklover @glitterypirateduck @valencia-rou @pinkcowracing @marvelpotter @kennedy-brooke @stupidwingboy @foreverrandomwritings @marvelouslovely-barnes @persephonesong @furiousbooklover @dxjaaaa @kristeristerin @naturakaashi @starlightshowdown @torchbearerkyle @emme-looou @wiseheartzombie @moonlwghts @f4iry-bell @imnotsiriusyouare @val-writesstuff @saltedcoffeescotch @toxic-nathyyy @feiwelinchen @bookslut420 @awkwardnerd

*If you don't see your username and you asked to be tagged, it's bc it won't let me for some dumb reason.

*Hope you guys don't hate me too much!! We'll get some more Az POV soon and maybe next part we'll finally get some answersss ;)

#acotar #fanfic #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel x you #shadowsinger x reader #original character #acotar writing

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angelicsoka · 3 months

Text

IDIOT, l. hughes

word count | 788 words

pairings | luke hughes x fem!best friend!reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader, mentions of unnamed ex boyfriend x reader

summary | in which luke’s best friend is left broken hearted and with a family dinner she has no date to, so he decides to step up and help.

warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”. reader was cheated on. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | heres one of two of the valentines blurbs i'm gonna post today because i had a sudden urge of inspiration to write (but not for the fics i've already started lmao)

she stormed up the stairs of luke and jack’s apartment complex, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. she felt like an idiot, she should’ve known there was something off with him. that he was spending a little too much time with her. she knocked hurriedly on their door, waiting anxiously for them to answer. after what felt like a century, luke opened the door.

“hey–” he was cut off by her pushing through into the apartment, the tears already starting to fall. “what's wrong?”

“he fucking cheated! that asshole was fucking cheating on me and i didn’t even realize! i feel so fucking stupid.” she cried, wiping angrily at her tears. luke saw red, already grabbing for his keys. “don’t, luke, it isn't worth it. plus, i already broke his nose.” jack, who had paused his game to listen in, whistled.

“damn, girl. remind me not to get on your bad side.” jack commented, dropping the smile when luke glared at him. “sorry.”

“now, i have this stupid family dinner and my parents are expecting me to bring a date! how am i supposed to tell them he cheated on me and on fucking valentines day of all days?” she ranted, the tears still flowing.

“hey, it's all gonna be okay. you just need to breathe.” she took a seat at their island, messily wiping her tears. she took a couple of deep breathes, her anxiety still heightened.

“fuck, i really don’t wanna go tonight.” she groaned, accepting the tissue luke offered her. “and if i cancel, they're gonna ask a shit ton of questions and i can’t deal with that right now.”

“i could go with you.” luke spoke, causing both her and jack to whip their heads towards him. “what?”

“you would do that?” she question, her eyes brightening. “because you don’t have to! i can cancel.”

“no, i want to. i promise.” her face held a beaming smile as she threw her arms around him.

“thank you, lukey! okay, be ready by 7, i'll pick you up! and wear a suit ‘cause we’re going to mario’s.” she seemed genuinely happy as she ran out of the apartment.

“somebody’s in love!” jack sang, laughing when luke smacked his shoulder.

the car was silent, beside the radio that was playing. her fingers tapped against the steering wheel, avoiding looking to her best friend. “what did you tell your parents?” luke asked, looking to her.

“just that i was bringing a guy i wanted them to meet. i left it kind of vague.” luke nodded, looking back out the window. “thanks again, lu. i really appreciate it.”

“of course, anytime.” she smiled, the car falling quiet once more. “you know he’s idiot for cheating on you, right? i mean who would want to cheat on a girl like you.” her cheeks flushed red, a small smile etched on her face. he mumbled something she couldn’t quite pick up, her eyebrows furrowing.

“what was that, lu?”

“i wouldn’t do that.” she almost slammed on the brakes, stunned by his statement. she looked to him, his eyes already trained on her.

“what are you saying?” she asked, the car coming to a stop at a red light. luke rubbed his eyes, clearly nervous. “luke.” she continued to keep her eyes trained on the road, turning into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“look, you’re my best friend, and i know you are still upset. and i understand if you don’t feel the same. but i–” he stopped, breathing in slowly. “i think i’m in love with you. and seeing you upset over some idiot who can’t see that he just lost the best girl he could’ve ever had, pissed me off. and honestly, i’m glad, because you deserve better.” she felt her heart beating out of her chest, the feelings she had spent years pushing down now resurfacing.

“lu…”

“listen, i understand if you don’t feel the same but–” he was cut off when she placed her hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. it took a moment, but he slowly eased into it, his hand resting on her neck. “i take it, you feel the same?”

“you’re an idiot.” she giggled, placing a short, gentle kiss on his lips. “of course, i feel the same. but we take this slow, okay?”

“deal.” he leaned in to kiss her once more only to be stopped by her placing a finger on his lips.

“we’re gonna be late.” he pouted, earning a laughing, ‘ok, one more, and then we go in. no more, no less.” he pecked her lips before getting out and opening her door for her. “such the gentleman.”

“gotta make up for lost time.”

#angelicsoka #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #luke hughes x best friend!reader #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 3 months

Note

A fluffy/ mild angsty valentines fic with Bucky where reader gets HIM flowers ( because of the whole guys don’t get flowers thing :((( ) maybe there’s some mutual pining and sweet confession? Like she gets the flowers for him because he makes some joke about not having had a valentine for nearly a century and she’s just like “absolutely not will not allow that >:(“ but he thinks it’s just a joke at first :(

Anyway thanks! Love you!

Bloom.

bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none

valentines masterlist. inbox. masterlist.

“Are we almost done?”

Bucky looks so miserable, you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, we are. We just need flowers, and then we have everything on the list.”

He grabs the shopping cart and pushes it across the grocery store, determinedly marching in the right direction. You’re practically running to keep up with him.

“Which ones?”

You look at all the flowers, touching some of the petals gently as you decide.

“I’m not sure. What’s your favourite kind of flower, Buck?”

He looks at you with a blank expression.

“I don’t have one.”

“What?”

Now it’s your turn to look blankly at him.

“I’ve never been bought flowers. Why would I have a favourite type?”

You frown at him. The idea of Bucky never receiving flowers makes you much sadder than it should, but you’re trying to play it cool.

“Oh. Well… which of these do you like the look of the most? They’re going to go in the middle of the table in the kitchen, so they need to be bright. Give the room some colour.”

He circles the flower display a few times, looking around carefully. Eventually, he picks up a bouquet of tulips, all pinks and oranges and yellows.

“I like these.”

You smile softly, nodding your head.

“Good choice.”

You’re somewhat distracted as the two of you check out. You put the tulips in the bag carefully, glancing at Bucky every so often. He catches you looking, and can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You’ve been standing outside Bucky’s door for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He knows.

He heard your footsteps, can hear your chest heaving, lungs working overtime. He’s just waiting for you to make your own decision.

Eventually, you do. After thirty minutes, you decide to just do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You knock.

Bucky swings open the door as if he’s been waiting for you, standing patiently on the other side.

“Breathe, honey.”

You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath. You exhale, never breaking eye contact with the man in front of you.

“Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, you.”

“I got you something.”

“You did?”

You grab the bouquet from where you’ve leant it against the wall, holding it out to him.

He stops in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re… for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You inhale deeply, willing yourself to find some temporary courage.

“Because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And no one has ever bought you flowers.”

He’s smiling now, soft and knowing.

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

He says it so sincerely, so genuinely, that it makes you want to cry. You hand the flowers to him, grinning as he admires them up close.

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

That takes you by surprise.

You and Bucky have always had a careful, consistent friendship. Ever since he first barrelled into your life, you’ve thrown tender smiles his way, nodding your head in acknowledgement every time he passed you in the hallways. He warmed to you, slowly but surely. Your kindness, your generosity, your genuineness - you’ve charmed him delicately, somewhat accidentally.

You’ve also been in love with him since day one.

You never thought to mention it - he’s healing, learning, growing as he goes, and you don’t want to halt his progress. So, you’ve pined from a distance, gently and quietly.

“Buck… will you be my valentine?”

He beams at you, the most luminescent smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that every year since I met you. Knew you’d beat me to it.”

You laugh, stepping in closer to him. He puts the flowers down carefully, reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you, my valentine?”

You nod, already leaning in. He presses his lips to yours, and he swears he feels flowers bloom in his ribcage, bright and alive.

#be murphy’s valentine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #marvel fanfic #marvel fic

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italiansteebie · 1 year

Text

Somehow, Steve is behind on every pop culture reference of this century, even with all the children he babysits.

That's why when Eddie Munson walks into the coffee shop he works at, he has no idea who he is and why he’s whispering. He almost wants to yell at him to speak up, but the way the guy is pulling his hat down over his face, sunglasses planted firmly on his nose, Steve can’t help but to wonder if he’s okay. If maybe he’s trying to avoid someone.

So before he can order, Steve leans in asking softly, “Hey are you okay? Is it someone in the shop you’re hiding from? Because I can kick them out.” His protective streak apparently extends beyond his kids. The guy seems to brighten at this, “I'm okay, honest. Just trying to stay out of the spotlight.” There’s something in his tone of voice that is more serious than it should be, but Steve continues on with the transaction.

It’s pretty dead in the shop, so Steve decides to strike up a conversation. “You new in town?”

“I- What?”

“Oh sorry. I just- usually only regulars come in on Sundays. I was just wondering if you've moved here recently or if… I don’t know, you're visiting or something?” Steve finishes awkwardly. And the guy lets out the most angelic laugh, Steve thinks he’s in love.

“I’m just visiting.”

Steve gets the feeling this guy doesn’t want to talk, so he moves to finish his drink. Handing it to him with a “Well, I’m here if you need someone to show you around!” and a smile, with his instagram handle written in bold, black ink on the side. The beautiful guy smiles at him, more genuine than it had been before, and turns to walk away.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

Beautiful man arches his eyebrow again, and shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Eddie.”

And with that he leaves, and Steve is left starstruck for the rest of the day.

It’s not long before Steve sees Eddie again, in fact he’s there the next morning. Waiting by the counter with his hat and sunglasses planted on. Steve wonders if maybe they’d been glued to his face in some sort of prank. Seems unlikely though.

Eddie approaches the counter, and before he can order Steve leans in, “I was serious yesterday, if there’s someone around here bothering you let me know. It just- seems like you’re uncomfortable or something.” And that beautiful smile graces Eddie’s lips again.

“I’m okay, really. It’s just. A lot of people know me and I don’t… I just want a normal morning at a coffee shop, y‘know?” Steve shrugs, “I can’t say I do, but If you want to talk I’m all ears. Well- Not now of course,” He laughs, “I'm on the clock, but I get out at noon?” He suggests. And who can blame him, there's a beautiful man right in front of him and he’s only human. Of course he’s going to flirt.

It seems to work too because Eddie agrees and shortly after there's a phone number written on his arm, with weirdly strict instructions to not share it with any one.

—

It’s noon, and Steve’s expecting to pull up to a house, but the GPS leads him to a rather nice hotel. One more expensive than he could afford even for one night. He spots Eddie waiting in the lobby, waving at him, signature hat and glasses still on.

“Hey, I decided to meet you down here. I don’t think they’d let you up without me.”

And Steve just smiles and nods, happy to be hanging out with Eddie outside of a place of business.

Once they reach Eddie’s room, Steve trails in slowly behind him, almost in before there's a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him back. He flinches, as a deep voice loudly says “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I- Uh. I was, uhm, going to see Eddie?” He finishes voice pitching up at the end like its a question, biting his lip willing the anxious tears that sprouted not to fall. The guy glares at him, “I don’t think so-” But he’s cut off by Eddie, “Woah, Gareth. It’s okay, he’s with me.” And that seems to calm ‘Gareth’ down, and Steve’s shoulders slump in relief. “I didn’t um. I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” He says, cheeks going red. Eddie waves his hand, “Don’t worry about it, Stevie.” And for a second Steve wonders how he knows his name before realizing he’s been wearing a name tag in every one of their interactions.

“He’s harmless, I promise.” Eddie assures ‘Gareth’ again.

And with that he leaves them alone. They talk for hours, and the time flies by, and Eddie invites him to dinner with him and his friends. He agrees easily, from what Eddie has told him, they all seem pretty cool, although he finds it a bit odd that they all share the uniform of sunglasses and hats.

At dinner, he can hear the subtle clicks of cameras and whispers, and he quietly wonders if there’s some type of celebrity around. Eddie and his friends laugh, but Steve seems to have missed the joke.

Overall it was a great night, ending with him and Eddie leaving hand and hand, sharing a soft kiss as Eddie walks him to his car parked in the hotel lot.

Once safely alone in his car, he squeals like a teenage girl, kicking his feet, twirling his hair, the whole nine yards. He goes to call Robin but in some odd coincidence, she’s already calling him.

“STEVE WHAT THE FUCK.” She’s shouting before he can even speak.

“Robs! I was just about to call you! I had the most amazing date,” He gushes, conveniently leaving out the part where he admits that his date's friends were with them.

“Yeah, I know, Steve. It’s ALL OVER TWITTER.” And she’s screaming again, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear.

“What do you mean? It was just a date, I wasn’t with anyone else!”

“You were with EDDIE MUNSON.”

“Yeah I kn- How do you know the name of my date?”

“Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.” She sighs.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you met Gareth AND Eddie AND Jeff and Keith! The only four men I would ever let inside me!” Steve cringes at that, “Robs. Never say that to me again. And what is going on? Did- Did you follow me to my date again?” He can hear her exasperated groan from the other side of town, no phone needed.

“Steve. Listen to me. Do you know the band Corroded Coffin?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, kind of. Dustin talks about them sometimes.” he doesn't know what this has to do with the beautiful man he just went out with.

“Okay. So here’s the deal. You have gone on a date, and smooched, SMOOCHED, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin.”

“I- What?”

“You kissed the lead guitarist of a very popular band.”

“Oh.”

“YEAH, OH, DINGUS.”

His phone chimes and he pulls it away from his ear to check the notification.

‘eddiemunson_CC just followed you.’

Another one follows immediately after that.

‘eddiemunson_CC sent you a message’

“Oop- He’s texting me, hold on.”

“Put me on speaker!”

“Oh, he has a blue check mark next to his instagram name thingy, that's cool!”

“Steve, oh my god, what did he say?”

Steve looks at the message, ‘I was trying to avoid the paps. Sorry, Stevie, they caught us.’ He responds quickly with an ‘It’s okay Eddie! I had a great time tonight!’ He narrates this all to Robin who is responding quite enthusiastically. “We can be famous by association, Steve!” She says in a “duh” tone of voice.” Steve rolls his eyes, “I think I’d rather just date him.”

He ends the call with Robin shortly after that and proceeds to text Eddie, punching in the faded sharpie written number on his forearm, Instagram DM’s weren’t very private according to Eddie, easily hacked or something like that. They text back and forth for a while, arranging a proper date in Eddie’s hotel room where they don’t have to be so discrete.

Eddie’s back in the coffee shop the next morning, uniform intact, basically loitering until Steve is done with his shift. They head back to the hotel room, blatantly ignoring the photos that are being taken of them. Back in Eddie’s room, Steve hears Corroded Coffins music for the first time, it's good. No wonder they’re so famous. Steve shares that sentiment and much to his chagrin, Eddie teases him relentlessly about it.

The internet knows of Eddie's new beau, and by extension, so does Dustin, who yells at Steve for not mentioning it sooner.

And if Corroded Coffin’s next album has more love songs than the others combined, well. We all know why.

inspired by @steddiealltheway's rockstar Eddie and clueless Steve fic!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #rockstar Eddie munson #barista Steve Harrington #meet cute #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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sabersandsnipers · 6 months

Text

A Trap Lies Ahead

Request:

How would romanced Astarion react to Tav (probably a bard Tav) offering to use themself as bait to lure out one of Astarion's sibling vampire spawn? Like, instead of just running into Dal and Petras, Tav preforms at where Astarion says are frequent haunts of his siblings, with Tav basically making themself seem like an easy target. Just an idea for a scenario.

You stare at your reflection in the standing mirror. Astarion flits around you, a tape measure hanging around his neck. His actions are precise and practiced, and you notice the focus in his gaze.

His confidence does nothing to cure your nerves, though. After brainstorming for hours on how to lure one of his fellow spawn in for questioning, you didn’t think offering yourself as bait would be something to consider. You were even more surprised that Astarion even agreed it. But he’s determined to corner another vampire and get answers.

Astarion lines the tape up with one of your arms, and you shiver as his fingertips brush against your skin. His gaze meets yours briefly. He studies you for a moment, and you hope he doesn’t notice the fear crawling within you.

But centuries of studying people has made him an expert at reading expressions. He lets his touch linger on your skin a moment longer, a small gesture of comfort. You know he senses the worry in you.

A few minutes later he pauses in front of you. You glance down at him from the pedestal he put you on.

“I have all the measurements I need,” he tells you. He plays with the measuring tape in his hands. “I’ll get to work on the dress.”

His eyes flit around nervously, and he’s unable to meet your gaze. Your hands have started shaking at the thought of baring yourself to the danger ahead, and you know anxiety has started to grip him as well. You tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

“We’ll get through this,” you say, as much to yourself as to him.

He sighs, but his stance remains tense. He steps forward a bit and buries his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. You lace your fingers in his curls and press a kiss to top of his head.

“I’m sorry I’m putting you through this,” he says. Your heart clenches at the hurt in his voice. This is as much torture for him as it is for you.

You cradle his face in your hands, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.

“I trust you, Astarion. And we have to do something. We can’t just wait for them to come to us,” you tell him, hoping your words will ease some of his guilt.

He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm. His eyes meet yours, a new determination settling within them.

“I will be close by, love,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A smile pulls at your lips, and your body warms at his protectiveness. “I know. I just worry you might do your job too well with how that dress is gonna look,” you joke.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “I will admit you’re going to have to look irresistible, but you don’t even need a dress to do that in my opinion.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. “As long as you’re the only one that gets to touch me by the time the night’s over.”

His hands grip your hips and lift you up to place you before him. His gaze now looks down on you, but the way he looks at you doesn’t make you feel smaller.

“If they lay a hand on you, they will know a different fear by the time I’m done with them.” His words are hard but his expression is soft. You can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs through you at his promise.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his. You let out a breath at his proximity, savoring the way his thumb strokes the sensitive skin on your neck. The stress that had gripped you so tightly before has vanished with Astarion’s words.

And you can’t help but feel sorry for any enemy that has the guts to touch Astarion’s mate.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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lilac--sugar · 8 months

Text

But then... whatever in the world could you be?

Summary: Astarion wakes from a nightmare with something he can only explain as hunger. He thinks he knows what he needs and goes to the one person that can give him just that. (Late act 2 I'd say) Pairing: Astarion/Tav!Reader (gn!Tav) Though, I did write it with my Tav, Kieran, in mind (pictured above). If there are any mentions that contradict this please point it out and I will gladly adjust it! 💜 Rating: M (Mostly because my blog is rated M and I'm not ok with minors interacting with it. But this is a fluff piece really.) Content Warnings: Mentions of Cazador. Astarion curses once. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: Not betaed. I did my best to comb it over. If you see any mistakes please feel free to point it out! 💜 I really wanted to write this, though. I really wanted at least one scene for Astarion that showed him getting more comfortable/familiar with intimacy that wasn't sexual while also opening up a little more. So, I wrote this to satisfy that need for myself.

Darkness grasps at his mind. Ice cold claws digging in at the nape of his neck, piercing the warm numbness of his meditative sleep. He gasps, suddenly plunged into a state of paralysis.

The claws pull his head back, make him look up into a face he’d rather not see.

“You think you can escape me?” There’s a flame spitting anger through the words. Eyes like red embers flicker, bear down into his own. He trembles in the grasp.

“Just you wait, boy,” claws dig deeper, pain intensifying as it spreads down his neck and through his whole body. He’s powerless. He tries not to weep, can’t do it for his pride, “I’ll show you pain like you’ve never known.”

His eyes widen as Cazador grins, delight dancing in the embers at Astarion’s fear.

“N-“ his tongue is stuck on the syllable, wants to scream it out, ‘no! I won’t let you! No! You can’t get me here!’

Here? Wait… That’s right. This is just-

He gasps awake, pushing himself up.

“Gods,” he whispers to himself, presses his head into his hands, “it was just a dream,” he takes in a shaky breath, “a nightmare,” he corrects himself.

None the less his body continues to tremble, goose fleshed skin broken out into a cold sweat. The fire kept alive by those on watch does nothing to warm him.

It takes him a moment, a few deep breaths and finally he’s able to pull his hands away from his face. Fear mildly subsides as a new feeling settles in. A strong… craving? It radiates from the pit of his chest. A new kind of hunger he’s not felt before.

Hunger but he can’t even fathom walking away from the safety of camp. The safety of you.

His eyes roam the area before landing on your form.

You look so delicate cuddled down into your pile of pillows. An odd request he’d noticed. You weren’t shy of asking for compensation for your help. Gold and a pillow. Every time. A pillow.

A small huff of a laugh escapes his lips.

He’d remembered the bundle on your back. How it dwarfed you as you tried to carry them all during your travels. Astarion refused to help you then only to have Halsin step in like the big knight in shining armor he is. Astarion had gotten annoyed at the time. Blamed it on Halsin having spoiled his fun of watching you struggle. Truth was he felt a pang of something. He couldn’t place it. Just hated how you’d stared at Halsin all bright eyed, smile wide on your face. He wanted that look for himself. He’d felt the sun for the first time in centuries. But he wanted to know what it felt like to be warmed to the bone. Thought he’d find it there in that look.

Of course, he’d caught a glimpse of it. The night he finally admitted his whole scheme. Worried sick he’d messed everything up. Only you flipped it around with a simple embrace. Sun be damned. That was what true warmth felt like. He’d felt guilty for being rewarded with comfort and understanding for deceiving you. Didn’t understand you one bit for it but eternally grateful you had.

He wondered. You had told him earlier in the day he could feed on you. Day after day you offer and night after night he obliges. He’s grateful for your generosity.

It’s almost like clockwork now. How he crawls over to you. Each time he feels himself get more comfortable in the act. He used to hover over you like you were a bomb that’d set off any second. He used to barely touch you. Now he has no issue. He presses a hand to your shoulder, pushes you flat on your back. He watches with amusement as your body almost instinctively bares your neck for him, highlighted by the dancing fire beside you.

He slides a knee between your legs, getting himself as close as he can. He lowers his head down next to your neck, cool lips taking pleasure against warm skin. He breathes in. For a man that so claims to detest flowers he’d never admit it, but he thinks of you as one. His favorite one. A bouquet of wildflowers. Joyous and bright. Unpredictable. He’d come across you when he had nothing in return. An empty field of dirt. One touch from you and now he’s overgrown.

He can’t explain it, why he does what he does next. He doesn’t bite. Instead, he nuzzles into you. Nose pressing under your ear, tickled by the hair there. He takes in another breath that is you. Eases in a bit more, his arms sliding behind your back. If he had any less pride, he might have flung one of your arms over him.

A tremble passes through his body, a small sob catching in his throat.

You stir under him, a groan escaping from your own. He’s quick to pull away, thinks about dashing off. You never need know he was even there.

“Star,” sleep thick your voice comes out as a croak. He freezes, keeps himself hovering over you.

“What?” He blinks back tears. He’s not sure if the word is meant for him. You’d never called him such before.

“You think your parents named you Astarion because your hair is like starlight?” your speech is sleep slurred.

“Wh- I,” a man that has something to say about everything and you’ve rendered him speechless.

You raise a hand, fingertips brushing over his soft delicate curls that frame his face. Moonbeams are caught in his hair, causes it to glow like a gentle halo around him. Your hand drifts down, settles on his cheek. Fingertips brush just under his eye and you know.

You also know that if you point it out or make a big deal he’ll just fuss and huff off. So, you do the one thing you know he’ll accept. You roll yourself over, use all your strength and flip him onto his back over the nest of pillows you’d painstakingly created. Mischief. He has a soft spot for your displays of it.

“What are you-!?” He doesn’t get the words out before you’re flopping over him, mouth pressing to his neck, you playfully bite down.

“Get off me you fowl fiend!” he cries out.

A chorus of ‘shh’ raises up from the party around them.

“Oh, fuck off!” Astarion snaps back.

A small giggle escapes you as you nuzzle yourself down into him. An arm wrapping over his chest, leg curling around one of his. You know if he had truly been upset, he wouldn't have even let you get this far in the first place. Wouldn't have let you push him. Would have chided you and stormed off by now. Instead, you feel him melt into the pillows, arms slowly wrapping around you.

“You really want me off?” you mumble into his neck, needing to check anyway for good measure. He shakes his head.

“No,” He admits, voice a little watery. You go to pull back, worried you were perhaps wrong. Only, he wraps his arms tighter around your form, pulls you back into him.

“I uh,” He lifts a hand, it coming to cup your face, palm to jaw, fingertips over your lips, he settles your head back where it had perfectly fit just a moment ago, “I had a nightmare with Cazador, again,” He says and you nod.

“I won’t let him get you,” you mumble. A ‘tch’ of a laugh escapes him.

“Optimistic,” He chides.

“One of us has to be.”

“Naive.”

“Hopeful,” you correct.

He hums.

“I promise you,” you whisper, kissing over his fingertips.

Cricket song and the pop and fizz of fire fills the space around you. The need for distraction is clear.

A kiss turns to a bite and he pulls his hand away from your face.

“Will you stop that!?” He hisses and you grin.

“Taste of your own medicine.”

“Oh please,” He places his hand over your neck now, “When I bite it’s with a lot more care and finesse! You hardly ever wake up anymore and I’m at your throat every night.”

You grin, lips curling up at the corners and he thinks you look like a cat who’d just caught a mouse. He lifts his head to get a better look at you, can see the glint in your eyes.

“You hardly ever wake up anymore, right?” He asks. In response you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

“You smell nice,” You mumble.

Exasperated, he drops back onto the plush pillows.

“You do keep changing the subject,” A faux agonized sigh leaves him, he’d never admit this was an all too welcomed distraction, “You are infuriating, you know?”

“What is it?” You ask, ignoring his complaints. You sniff at his neck, the small puffs of air causing his skin to tingle. He closes his eyes and focuses on not laughing.

“Hmm,” Your nose slips behind his ear, nuzzles into the soft curls there, “rosemary,” hesitant, you sniff again and this time you can feel him twinge with a bit of a laugh, “brandy for sure,” You pull back, hand pressed to his chest as you hover over him.

There’s a softness in his eyes, a smile delicately placed across his lips. His hair is glowing again in the moonlight.

“Go on then,” He says, smile turning to a grin, “what else?”

You shake your head, “Can’t pin the last one.”

“Bergamot.”

“Ahh,” You roll your eyes, “Bergamot,” you carry out the first and last syllable of the word, try to flourish it with his accent, “Fancy.”

“You know me, darling,” He raises a hand and presses it to your cheek, “understated with a dash of extravagant and exceptional.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at his words. It startles him and another chorus of ‘shh’ breaks out.

“Sorry!” You whisper-shout. You duck your head into his neck, muffling the giggling as best as you can.

“I hardly think what I said was funny,” he’s trying to sound serious, but you can hear the hint of a pout to his words.

“Star, you’re about as understated as a beacon,” You pull back, a simmer of giggles still gently rolling from your chest, “Wait- Can I call you Star?”

“Uh-“

“It’s just that, your hair really does look like starlight and right now-“ well, right now you think if his body could, he’d be flushed all over, “While, yes, you are gorgeous. Sometimes I feel like when I’m with you, there’s this- light. Something,” The hand on his chest moves over his heart, “In there. It’s warm and beautiful, comforting. Like the north star, it guides me,” You’re talking a million miles a minute. Your sleep addled mind has no filter for your mouth. He stares at you, eyebrows raised, anticipating what you’ll say next even though he never knows and doesn’t know why he bothers to try, “to you.” You swallow hard, realizing you’d probably let yourself go a bit too far. His face hasn’t changed and so you try to dig yourself out, “And well- it is in your name, so-“

“Do shut up,” he says, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s different, chaste. Something new entirely and you kiss back, hoping not to break such a delicate thing.

“That would be fine,” He says as he pulls away, “But all this talking has made me rather tired, my love,” he flops back onto the pillows, “and I’d really rather not make the trek back to my bedroll,” he nestles himself back against your pillows, “Far too much hassle.”

“Right,” You nod, “completely.”

“Just don’t go thinking I’m doing this every night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And it’s really all your fault since you pinned me here. So, if anyone comments in the morning you should admit as such.”

“Yes, dear,” you settle yourself into him, curling around him. He might sleep as stiff as a plank but you were going to make it work.

When you’ve fallen asleep he realizes he’s- happy. He feels satiated somehow without a drop of your blood. Don’t get him wrong, he’d probably partake in the next few hours. But for now, right now, the pit in his chest felt full.

“Gods, where were you?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your forehead. A sleepy groan leaves you as you stir, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

Perhaps. Perhaps you were there the whole time. The seed of his hopes. Every damned prayer he said to every God. Someone listened, someone took that tiny seed and from it grew you. And here you were, though not to ruin him. No. But to help him.

“Took you long enough,” He mutters, a small laugh escaping him. He takes your hand in his own, lets your warmth sink into his fingers. He couldn’t just yet bring himself to thank whatever God made it possible. He thought maybe one day. Right now he didn’t care much for anything beyond the two of you right here.

For the first time in a long time he dreams of life in the sunlight. You there next to him, as he basks in the warmth of your bright eyes and wide smile.

My masterlist

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav #ficlet #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion fluff #fluff #tav fluff #Astarion fic #tav fic #astarion x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 8 months

Note

Heyo, can I ask for a bat!bro reader who’s around 16 or 17 and they find out that he smokes and drinks? And sometimes some drugs. And he (tries to) hide it from everyone?

If not it’s ok, and I hope ur doing good. Can’t wait to see what you write 🫶

Sure thing. I don't personally drink or smoke, even though I am an adult, but those are things that are prominent in my country. Some people start earlier even... I have digressed, my apologies.

Summary: (Y/N) smokes and drinks. Sometimes experiments with drugs. The problem? He is underage.

Warnings: smoking, underage drinking, DRUGS, experimenting, hiding all of that, lying, partying, cursing

(Y/N) knew that Bruce would kill him if he found out. He knew that sneaking out is not going to pass with Bruce and it could get him punished until he is an adult. But this party he is going to is going to be the best party of the century.

And he didn't want to be the party breaker. His friends were going to be there too and he was going to be damned if he is going to miss it. Thankfully, there wouldn't be anyone in the manor and it would be easier to get out.

They have all made a plan to drive (Y/N). His friend, well, the chauffer of the group, would drive up to the manor, but stay away far enough from the look of the cameras.

But the thing that Bruce would kill him for is his drinking and smoking. And occasional drug use too. But his life is too stressful. Why, I might hear you asking?

Well, the constant pressure of being a son of Bruce Wayne, constant eye of the public on you and constant pressure of being perfect. He turned to smoking first.

It was a way to just let go first. If he took liquor from the cabinets, Bruce and Alfred would know all of it and then he would be in deep shit. He wouldn't be allowed to leave the manor or have any contact with anyone.

He would be on house arrest for the next 2 years.

He took a cigarette and his favorite lighter. But the problem is that there are going to be the people he hates. So he needs to destress before he goes. He opened the window, letting the the cold air in and to let the smoke out.

He put it in his mouth, bringing the flame of the lighter towards his cigarette. He took a long drag, before letting it out. He learnt to let the smoke out in cool ways too, so that was fun to learn.

He let the smoke out through his nose, almost like a bull in the cartoons. He smoked near the window so that the smell could get out.

He sat on the floor, leaning on the wall, his right arm leaning on the window, making sure that the cigarette was out on the roof and that the ashes were falling down on the roof.

He looked at the phone, his friends texting him that they have started going to the manor. (Y/N) just said, okay and shut the phone down. He smoked for 15 more minutes before extinguishing the cigarette on the roof. He stood up and threw it on the roof.

He put the jacket on and started walking towards the front door. He stepped out in the cold air, sighing. Winter has finally come and it will only get worse. He walked to the big gates and pushed them with a little bit of struggle.

When he was out of the property lines, he closed them again. He walked down, zipping his jacket up and then putting his hands in his pockets.

He ran towards the car, getting into the back seat.

" Hello (Y/N)! You ready? " His friend asked and (Y/N) nodded, accepting a bottle of whiskey from his other friend. He took a long swig before giving it back to the front.

" This is party to remember. " The chauffer friend said, getting to the city already.

" I don't think that we will remember it by the morning. " (Y/N) said, smirking at his own joke. The other two laughed too.

This is going to be a night to remember.

(Y/N) finally let loose. A cup of some sort of alcohol in his hand, a cigarette in the other. The music was reverberating through him and he finally enjoyed himself. A few minutes ago, he snorted some cocaine and it made everything ten times better.

He danced with a random boy, just having fun. They rubbed against each other, kissing each other. (Y/N) didn't even know his name, but that didn't matter.

He was cute and really nice to him.

And more importantly, he went to (Y/N)'s school so he was definitely going to hang out and exchange their numbers since (Y/N) didn't have any social media.

It was all well until the sirens were heard. What the actual fuck? Since when does GCPD answers these types of calls? The rest of the time went by in a blur.

" Where is he? " Jason asked as they all ransacked the house for (Y/N).

" The footage shows him leaving around a couple of hours ago. " Tim chimed in, looking at the footage on his phone.

Dick looked at (Y/N)'s room. It looked clean and he started looking for some clues. He looked under the bed, in the drawers and then he looked through the window.

Why would the window be open?

He froze when he saw the cigarettes. What in the hell is going on? Nobody smokes in the family. Jason smokes at his own apartment and the others don't do it.

Damian decided to look at the outside, more so where he was last seen. He walked down, huffing at the stupidity of his brother. He stopped when he saw tire tracks. Somebody picked him up.

Alfred and Bruce guessed that it was just a normal sneaking out thing. Bruce thought about it and he thought about the way to ground his son.

This is insane. Alfred and Bruce waited in the kitchen.

" Alfred, what is going on? " Bruce asked, sighing.

" I don't know sir. But he looked off sir. I swore I could smell cigarettes on his breath, but it was so faint... " Alfred said, rubbing his forehead.

" Somebody drove him. " Damian said, huffing from running back to the manor. Bruce nodded. He didn't do it alone. Okay.

He stepped away when his phone rang. Everyone else joined Alfred and Damian. They wondered where Bruce went and what was going on.

" (Y/N) is in jail. " Bruce said and Jason's jaw dropped. Damian was also shocked, but didn't show it. Tim and Dick looked at one another in shock too.

" What the actual fuck? " Jason asked and for the first time, Alfred didn't say anything.

(Y/N) sighed quietly as he sat in the cell. Turns out that the person who hosted had parents who were drug dealers. And he went to their party. By now, Bruce knows and they have notified him. He knew that there would be no talking his way out of this.

He put his head in his hands, cursing underneath his breath.

If he finds out about cocaine, he is going to get killed. Not only by Bruce, but also by Alfred too. Alfred is going to crucify him if he finds about the cocaine. Oh God please don't let them find out.

" Come on Wayne. " The officer said and (Y/N) had to take a deep breath. He felt dizzy from the alcohol and the cocaine. Oh no.

If he passes out, they will take him to a hospital.

He saw Bruce and he looked pissed. (Y/N) tried to say something, but he stopped due to the black spots. Bruce called him, but (Y/N) was falling by the time Bruce came.

Everything went black and (Y/N) lost consciousness.

(Y/N) woke up later in a hospital bed. He blinked tiredly, freezing when he saw Bruce in the chair.

" You had to have your stomach pumped. " Bruce started and (Y/N) swallowed with a lot of difficulty. " You had a lot of alcohol in your system and you were close to being in a way more serious predicament. " Bruce said standing up.

" But the thing that nearly sent me to the grave is the fact that you used cocaine. " Bruce said through his teeth, now enraged.

" How long? " Bruce asked, taking a breath to try to calm down.

" It's not regular. It's just a few times. " (Y/N) admitted, looking down at his hands. He was ashamed so much that he couldn't look Bruce in the eyes, his own father.

" And the smoking? " Bruce asked, crossing his arms. " Alfred said you smelt of cigarettes and Dick found your 'ashtray'. " Bruce said, using air quotes on the word ashtray.

" I'm sorry. But it's stressful being your son. " (Y/N) tried to explain himself, but Bruce put his hand up.

" I know. It's not easy. But you could have come to us and we would have helped you. " Bruce said, rubbing his forehead. " I don't think I need to tell you that you are going to be grounded. I love you, but I have to nip this in the bud. No going out, all the technology is going to be taken, the only route you will have is school and manor. " Bruce stopped for a moment. " You broke our trust with your unhealthy habits and you need to earn it back. And more importantly, there is no patrol until you get yourself in order. " Bruce said and (Y/N)'s first tears fell.

(Y/N) loved patrolling and this was a nasty hit. Everything else, he could live without it. But patrol? No.

Bruce saw it and knew that patrol punishment did it. He gently embraced his son and (Y/N) cried softly into his chest. Bruce knew that tough love was needed in this situation. He never really used it with others, but now it was needed.

" You are going to get through this and you will be okay. " Bruce comforted, giving him a kiss on the head.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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yourheart-inmyhands · 1 month

Note

Hey so I have a kinda weird request, you have the right to ignore this of course.

How would Beidou, Yae Miko and Jean react to object of their love would say that they see them like their older sister (basicaly friend-zoneing them)

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this, it took me a bit of sitting on it to get a good response formulated! sorry for the wait :3

Warnings: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, love potions/drugging, mentions of conditioning/brainwashing, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Beidou:

She’s understandably crushed by this, while she encourages the members of her crew to behave like family and considers them as much, she wants you to see her as more. She’s already an older sister figure to others, she wants to finally mean something more to someone.

Beidou takes a few days to collect her thoughts, skilly avoiding you and holing up in her quarters on the Crux as she contemplates her next course of action. She might be crazy and reckless sometimes, her history can speak to that, she isn’t one to rush in without a plan.

She emerges with a new confidence, her usual swagger in her step as she confronts you once more. She tells you that she wants to take you on a trip and to pack your bags, enough for a few weeks. And no, you can’t decline.

“C’mon Doll, go get packing, an adventure awaits us.” A chuckle follows her words, her hands waving you off in the direction of your home. She follows behind you, helping you gather your things and carry them back to the Crux.

Beidou doesn’t tell you where she’s planning to take you, and the crew’s lips are equally as sealed, but the sudden shine in her eyes, the extra bit of stretch to her grin, and the way she can’t seem to keep away from you, all tell you that it’s certainly going to be something interesting.

Beidou decides to take you on a fairly long goose chase. While she claims you’re headed in the direction of one nation, you’re actually headed in the other. It takes a long while before you notice that you don’t really ever seem to reach a destination, just stopping in at small harbors and cities to restock food and supplies before setting off again.

Her plan was essentially to trap you on the ship with her, have you sleep in the captain’s quarters with her, and spend every moment you physically could with her. She wanted you to become reliant on her presence, to want her around the same way she wanted you around.

It’s a fairly shaky plan that relies mostly on you developing some form of Stockholm syndrome, but she’s insistent it will work. It has to. She needs you.

Yae Miko:

While she can understand where you’re coming from, it also frustrates her greatly. Of course, she’s very good at not letting it show, but she didn’t spend all this time doting on you and loving you like no other just to be seen as a sister.

She doesn’t let the sudden news interrupt your relationship though, if anything she’s just more insistent in the little ways she loves on you. A hand on the small of your back when you two walk together, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear for you, the little things. Little things that she wants to make your heart flutter like how you make hers soar.

The longer it takes to win you over the more frustrated she gets, her centuries alive could not grant her enough patience to put up with this. But she remains cordial, acting as if everything is ok and normal. Until she can’t keep up the act.

“Just hold still darling, it hurts less that way.” Yae smiles as she watches you struggle against your rope bindings, she knows they aren’t comfortable and don’t feel the greatest, that the rough rope bruises and chaffs your skin, but it would have to do for now. She can’t trust you to be free just yet, after all, you haven’t proven your love and devotion to her.

Yae jumps into the drastic route of kidnapping, keeping you confined in a place that only she and a select few others are aware of. She’s with you all day every day for the first week or so and after that, the hours vary. She does still have duties to uphold at the Grand Sakura Shrine after all.

When she’s with you though, it’s time spent conditioning you into new behaviors and mindsets, making you dependent on her and her love to even function. If you cannot open your eyes and see that you do love her, then she supposes she’ll just have to show you herself.

When she’s not with you, you’re given some freedom to explore the strange area, but nothing too grand. You’re kept confined to a room, a door the only break in the walls, with basic decorations and furniture. Yae didn’t spend too much time decorating, she didn’t want you getting too attached to this place, after all, she plans to take you back home someday.

Jean:

Jean is possibly the most understanding about all of this. Not only is she already an older sister, but she’s also a leader and considered like family to a lot of Mondstat. This isn’t to say she’s not upset by this though, it hurts her deeply.

Deeply enough that she spends a few days burrowed in her office, drowning her aching heart out in mountains of paperwork. Eventually, Lisa lures her out with the promise of helping to change your mind, which Jean is hesitant to do.

She respects your decision and your choices, but she simply can’t imagine life without you. So it’s no surprise that she does accept Lisa’s help, who in turn recruits Albedo.

It doesn’t take long for Lisa and Albedo to come to a solution. Between their combined knowledge and power, creating a love potion was simple. Unorthodox sure, but Lisa was confident it would work, nobody would even know. Albedo was in it merely to see how one responds to being under its effects.

Jean is hesitant to give it to you, her hands turning the bottle over and over in her hands as she considers whether or not she wants to do it. There’s a small part of her that feels guilty about it, about taking such a large part of who you are from you, but the large part of her is dying to hold you in her arms, to leave kisses all over your face, to properly call you hers.

It’s almost startling how easily she finds herself giving it to you, inviting you over for some tea to apologize for her absence and her reaction to your rejection. Everything about it feels so normal, what reason would you have to believe your drink has been spiked.

When you take the first sip and it tastes funny should’ve been the first sign something was wrong, but at Jean’s insistence that she was sure she had made it right, you settle for taking another sip, eventually finishing your whole cup. A smile graced Jean’s face when she saw you set the empty cup down.

It didn’t take long for the effects to set in, after all, you’d consumed quite a bit. Seeing you looking at her like she put the stars in the sky like she was the greatest person you’d ever met, melted all of Jean’s doubts. Screw feeling guilty, Jean was happy you finally loved her back.

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baizhoobies · 9 months

Text

Good Morning! “Waking up with…” gn!Headcanons

Request: Hey!!! How are you? Can I request morning headcanons with Sigma, Bram, Kunikida and Fyodor? Can be suggestive if you want. Thank you have a good day!

A/N: Hiya! thank you for the request :3 I am doing okay thank you for asking! Also one last thank you to those in the requests queue who are waiting! I love and appreciate you

Warnings: suggestive, swearing, mostly fluff and sweet domesticity, 18+

Including: Sigma, Bram, Kunikida and Fyodor

Sigma

- Okay to start off with, lets say you both live in the casino together, he has one of those fancy VIP looking rooms

- your bed is ridiculously comfy, as the manager/owner, he has to have a good nights rest (plus working in the DOA the man needs some good fucking sleep)

- Sigma is enamoured with you, he wants nothing more than to be with you and to express his love for you, so he will make sure you are at your most comfort, with your preferred duvet covers, pillows, the works

- He looks like a sleeping beauty whilst he sleeps, so if you are the first to wake up and look at him… if you weren’t madly in love with him, you are now

- clingyyyyyyy

- super clingy, the man doesn’t know what home is but he knows he is at home with you. Keeping that in mind, he will probably prefer to be the big spoon, holding you tightly like some sort of teddy bear

- If he is the first person to wake up whilst he is the big spoon, he will probably try to wake you up with kisses on your neck and shoulders

- though I won’t lie, if you roll over in your sleep to become the big spoon, he will love that just as much

- knowing that you love him and wish to embrace him is enough to make his heart flutter and feel even more at home with you

- he loves the way you smell, your soft breaths and the way your skin feels against his own; soft and warm

- probably keeps a pillow or something and sprays it with your perfume so if you are away for any reason, he can sleep a lot better whilst thinking of you

- I can’t see him being the most active person in the morning, he will definitely want an extra 10 minutes. Even if you want to get out of bed, he just wants to cuddle and how can you refuse his puppy dog eyes?

- Probably doesn’t engage in anything sexual though, at least not in your sleep unless you talk about it prior. Though in saying that, if you have breasts, he will hold onto them like some sort of stress toy, or out of comfort

- I am picturing him doing this, half awake but the moment he hears your moans in your sleep, he’s only going to keep doing it until you are awake 🤭

Bram

- oooh boy, okay I am going to take liberty and allow Bram to have all of his limbs, maybe this scenario is before the events of BSD?

- If you are both vampires, its natural that neither of you will be awake in the morning as ya’ll sleep all day. So I am going to assume your mornings are actually in the evening after sunset

- Not that either of you are allergic to the sun (as seen in the anime/manga) but its a vampires natural sleeping pattern to sleep during the day, and I assume he did when he was living in his estate in Europe.

- He will most likely wake up out of hunger than anything else. You guys could sleep for centuries if you wanted, so the only reason to wake up is to feed, and perhaps spend time with you

- I am gunna say that ya’ll rest in a double sized coffin (yes, they exist) you are his partner after all and wishes to hold you close

- probably will have anxiety if you were in another coffin

- he’s a gentleman, if he wakes up first he will pull you closer and purposefully rest your head on his chest. In one manga panel its seen that he has claws? Or long nails? Will draw circles into your back/shoulders, humming contently as he does so

- if you guys are spooning, he will kiss your spine and your shoulders, but he will only really do this if he is in the mood… might even sneak a hand around and have a cheeky little touch~

- if you aren’t a vampire, he will probably follow your sleeping patterns. Ain’t no way is he going to wake up whilst you go to bed, nuh uh.

- nothing much would be different except Bram being a little dramatic in the mornings

- Like he will say some shit like “human, you have disturbed my slumber, why must your weak bodies-” promptly tell him to shut up and give him a kiss, he will soon shut up

- he will convince you to sleep longer, or at least lay there with him so he can sleep some more

- promise to make out with him, or wake him up if ygm, this may convince him to wake up and indulge 🫡

Kunikida

- So this man ensures that he gets 7 hours of sleep every night; its essential for him to feel refreshed and ready for when he wakes up in the morning. He the type of guy who will wake up immediately at the sound of his alarm, get out of bed, shower etc.. all according to his notebook

- HOWEVER

- Ever since you moved in, he's found himself becoming.. sloppy with his schedules

- Kunikida doesn't strike me as the guy to enforce his schedule onto his s/o, the word 'no' is a foreign word to him when it comes to you

- So lets say his alarm goes off in the morning, he goes to turn it off and get out of bed, but oh no! Your legs are intertwined, your head on his chest and your arms snaked around his waist.

- Despite his best efforts to convince himself to get immediately ready for the day, he will let out one huge sigh and set the alarm to snooze...and then snooze again, and again.

- Kunikida's biggest weakness is cuddles, especially whilst you are sleeping so adorably

- He might curse himself for breaking his schedule but, you certainly are worth it

- He may even incorporate snuggle time into his schedule just to say that he is following his ideals to feel better about himself

- LOVES to watch you sleep, I know bro is romantical (but will never admit it) he will just stare at your features, it doesn’t matter if you snore or have your hair all a mess, or whatever, he just is so in love with you.

- He takes this time to reflect on your relationship together, he probably practices ‘gratitude affirmations’ and you are certainly one of them

- Not the type of person to fulfil his desires in your sleep, he'd rather wait till you're awake before initiating anything, HOWEVER, if you are the first to awake, he certainly isn't going to complain waking up to you under the covers, iygm 😏

- Note in diary: woke up to sloppy toppy at 7am

- Expect breakfast in bed at the weekends, those are the days he has more time in the mornings and will make the extra effort in pampering you. You like coffee? Well the man owns one of those fancy coffee machines, Idc what anyone says, he does.

- Kisses with the taste of coffee on his lips >

Fyodor

- This was hard but I like a challenge (plus the recent episode got me quaking)

- Fyodor does not sleep a lot, over working himself on his plots and schemes, 100% will need convincing to join you in bed

- He would wake up first, no matter what. You would never catch him sleeping, like ever

- even if you get up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet, the man just senses when you are awake (he is probably a very light sleeper)

- its most likely to do with the fact that when you are sleeping, its quite a vulnerable state and although he is comfortable with you, he struggles to turn that side of him off

- As he wakes up before you, it gives him a chance to watch you resting peacefully, he leans over you and just takes in the view

- He will gently brush the hair from your face and just… he just thinks you are precious and wants nothing more than to just take a moment and reflect on it

- If its coming close to having to get up for whatever reason, he will stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, most likely calling you Russian pet names and shit

- Although he is the first awake, he won’t get out of bed until you are ready

- I can’t see him being a person who’d want to cuddle in bed really, going to sleep or waking up. He is a little touch starved but in the sense that he doesn’t quite know how to be physically affectionate

- though catch him on a day where he is particularly sleepy, then he will be more likely to let his guard down and cuddle (he can’t keep up this criminal master mind shit 24/7)

- I don’t think he’d be super relentlessly horny in the mornings, but if he is for whatever reason, he would (like the whispering you awake HCs) he would probably give you a few sleepy neck kisses, caressing your body with his nimble fingers and enjoys watching you squirm and whimper yourself awake.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd kunikida #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #kunikida x reader #bsd bram #bram stoker #BSD Bram x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor headcanons #bsd fyodor x reader #sigma x reader #bsd sigma #bsd sigma x reader

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atinylittlepain · 28 days

Text

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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gaylordscooter · 3 months

Text

i just wanted some fucking clothes why is there a parasite manning the cash register

“free food, shelter and clothes? i could get used to this…” Killer surmised as he inspected the dark gray jacket he took from the rack.

He caught sight of the meaningless price tag and sucked in air through his teeth. “sixty dollars?” he muttered. Good thing they didn't have to pay.

“do you always talk out loud to yourself?” Horror questioned, watching him from behind.

“i’m not exactly talking to myself when you and hooded-creep are here.” Deciding the jacket looked cool enough for him, he removed his current hoodie to put it on. He tossed his old hoodie into the shopping cart, adding to the dangerously high pile of clothes.

A middle finger from the other side of the rack rose up.

“but i might as well be talking to myself ‘cus of how quiet you two are. bird flipper, do you ever speak?”

The answer was silence.

“figures…hey i just realized any time we talk to each other, we're talking to ourself.”

Dust tipped over the clothes rack with a forceful shove, causing it to fall on Killer.

“ow, what the heck, man?” It didn't hurt at all and he easily got the rack upright again, but some of the clothes fell off of it and made a mess on the floor. No one here was gonna clean that.

Dust walked out from behind the rack with a few garments in hand and stacked it on the pile.

They were about done shopping anyway, he guessed. Or at least, he assumed so. They’ve been here for a few hours now, but Horror was completely empty-handed.

“hey, crater-head, where's your haul? don't tell me you're not getting anything, you need new clothes the most with your rags.”

“i didn’t see anything i wanted,” he answered simply.

“really? this is a high-end store on the surface. your current getup is from the dump at waterfall.” He pointed at Dust. “look at him, he's all decked out now! covered literally head to toe, can’t even see any bone anymore.”

Horror looked unconvinced. “let's just go. i don't want that freak getting pissy at us for taking too long.”

If he had eyelights he would've rolled them, but he conceded. Not getting any clothes was his loss, but he swore if he ends up taking some of his clothes when they get back he’ll add to his kill count.

The three of them went on their way to the exit.

However, someone—a skeleton monster like them—was at the cash register, expectantly waiting for them to come over. The store was empty the entire time they were here, Nightmare made sure of it.

And the barrier in this universe hasn't been broken.

“Heya dawgs, how’s it hangin’?” the skeleton monster asked. “Yous three gonna pay for all that, right?”

His clothes hurt to look at. They were obnoxiously bright and tacky. His sunglasses that completely obscured his eye sockets literally spelled out “YOLO”. It was like the 90s threw up all over him. What alternate universe was this nut from?

Killer slipped his hand in the pocket of his shorts and curled it around the handle of his knife. He let out a shallow laugh. “what's it to you? you're not the store owner.”

“No duh, homeslice, but stealin’ is totes not rad!”

The way he talked was getting on his nerves. Scratch that, everything about him was getting on his nerves.

It seemed the other two felt the same. At any second, Dust was going to blast that 90’s disaster into the proper century.

“it's not like they're stealing from monsters. this is a human-owned store. i don't think they’d miss a few clothes,” Horror pointed out. “but if it bothers you so much, i’ll be on my way.”

“what?!” Killer exclaimed. He looked at Horror with an exaggerated look of betrayal on his face.

Horror made his way to the door. “hey, i’m not the one stealing. i’ll wait outside.” he said with indifference.

The other skeleton didn't protest at all when he left the building.

“butthole…what the?” Killer narrowed his eyes at his slip of the tongue. That’s not what he meant to say.

“Nah, homie, that chatter don't fly here.” The skeleton shook his head and his shades now spelt “NUH-UH”.

“you censored me?” His wariness skyrocketed at such a small thing. Well it wasn't exactly small when he's able to alter their words. What else could he do?

He glanced at Dust, who looked nonchalant as always.

He sighed, preparing for a fight. “listen, bud, we don't have any money and we're not going to—”

“Aw, no cheddar? You two should probably return those clothes then.” The overly-cheerfulness of his voice dwindled ever so slightly. Almost like he was threatening them.

He stared at him in befuddlement.

Dust decided he was entirely fed-up with this guy and the familiar growl of a blaster rang out.

“Not cool,” the colorful skeleton said before getting blasted.

But he was completely unfazed by the attack.

Killer and Dust instinctively backed up even with the current distance between them and that thing.

“That blast gots a huge kick to it, yo. You should be more careful, you could totes hurt someone with that.” The skeleton stood up—he was kneeling behind the counter the entire time.

He thought he was around the same height as he and Dust. But now it was clear he towered over both of them.

“I shoulda introduced myself, huh?” He asked as if he was talking to himself. He shrugged off his mistake. “My b, better late than never.” He adjusted his glasses as his smile widened dangerously. His golden tooth shined brightly despite there being no light for it to reflect. “The name’s Fresh. I take it that you peeps are sanses? The hooded dude packs a ri-donk-ulous punch tho.”

Blue bones rose up and caged Fresh as a half-ring of blasters appeared and fired. The impact of the blasts created a huge cloud of smoke, obscuring their vision.

Killer drew out his knife with a groan. He swore, Dust was so dramatic. He hoped that the dust of Fresh was among the cloud of smoke, but something about his instincts screamed otherwise. He squinted as he looked around. Dust wasn't by his side anymore.

It's gone completely quiet.

“...dust?” he whispered harshly. “where the funk did you go?” Ugh, there went the censoring again.

A hand laid on his shoulder, causing him to jump, but it was only Dust. He sighed and let his head hang back for a second. “you can't just do that!”

“...my bad.”

Wait. He talked!? And to express sorrow out of all things…“uhuh. we gotta put some bells on you or something, jeez.” The hand on his shoulder remained, in fact, the grip seemed to tighten. “you can let go now,” he said, voice laced with annoyance.

He still didn't let go. Was he trembling? His other hand was locked tightly into a fist by his side.

The grip on his knife tightened.

He hasn't known Dust for long, but what he did know was that he wasn't a touchy person.

“i said let go!” He hacked his knife into Dust’s wrist, he didn't put enough force to completely sever a bone but it cut pretty deep.

Dust yanked his hand away in complete silence.

Killer heard footsteps nearby, but there were too many for it to be from just one person.

The smoke finally dissipated.

He was completely surrounded.

There were more skeletons in the store, all of them wore those obnoxious sunglasses with text on them. These weren't just any skeletons, however. He was sure all of them were Sanses. They were stark still when he caught sight of them, like mannequins on display.

“i don’t know what's gotten into you, dust, but you need to snap out of it for once.”

“Oh, I know the answer to that one, broseph,” Fresh said. He adjusted his shades, the text on them saying “IT’S ME”.

Killer put two and two together quickly. All of these Sanses were being controlled by Fresh, and he was adding Dust to the party. Shit, was he going to be next too?!

He brandished his knife wildly like a cornered animal, causing Dust to take a step back. “aw heck no! get the frick away from me!” He couldn't die here, he couldn't even swear properly! He wasn't going to let his last word be a censored f-bomb.

“Don't be like that, homeslice dawg. Join the party, it's the bomb!” Fresh insisted, stretching his arms out to gesture at the still crowd. “Your pal’s waiting for you,” he added grimly.

As if on cue, Dust tackled him to the ground, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from using his knife. He was breathing heavily in a strained fashion.

They were just getting some fucking clothes. They were just going shopping. It was supposed to be a normal excursion, for once. He doesn't even know the next chance they'll have a goddamn break or do something that isn't designed to mentally mess them up even more. Fuck this guy.

He let out a growl as he brought his knees to his chest and kicked Dust off of him. He rolled upright and blindly lunged for Fresh, swinging his knife around like an untrained toddler.

Fresh backed away from every slash. He may hardly look like a Sans but he sure dodged like one.

As the two fought, the crowd surrounded the three, caging them in. Dust hasn't gotten up yet, but random bone attacks of his flung around the makeshift arena.

The exit door flung open, interrupting their fight.

Never in his life did Killer expect to feel relief at seeing that stupid octopus. Horror followed behind him, looking shocked at the sight.

“I told you that I expected you back in three hours!” Nightmare roared. Once he actually registered what was happening, he narrowed his eye in confusion. “Who or what is that thing that assaults my vision?”

“kill it! kill it now!” he shouted with a bit too much desperation.

In an instant, everyone in the building was lifted up by his tentacles and shoved against the walls of the building as Nightmare arose.

Killer thrashed around in vain, “not me too, you idiot!”

“you’d think you'd expect this by now,” Horror, who was held up near him, muttered.

For the first time since they’ve seen him, Fresh frowned. “Bogus, dude! Interruptin’ my meal like that is not cool.”

“meal?!”

Nightmare ignored the two and paid particular attention to Dust. Something was wrong with his soul, his feelings were all muddled. In fact, the other skeletons here with sunglasses on gave off the similar muddled energy. With another tendril he wrenched Dust’s hood off, revealing a huge flower growing in his eye socket.

Killer and Horror gagged.

“what the heck is that?! has that always been there?!” Killer gawked.

“Of course not,” Nightmare grumbled. The same tendril wrapped around the flower as best as it could.

“Oh buddy, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Fresh said, his glasses spelling “DO NOT”.

“Try me.” He yanked.

The flower snapped off with such a force that threw Dust’s head back.

Nightmare dropped him to inspect the flower, letting him fall to the floor with a loud thud.

Dust’s eyelights sparked on with a gasp that soon turned into a scream as he reached for his eye sockets as if the flower was still there, not even bothering to put his hood back on.

Killer and Horror’s eyes were wide open and their mouths were agape at the display. They’ve never expected to see Dust lose his cool like this. They weren't expecting to see many things that were happening today.

They were just trying to go shopping. How did it turn into this?!

“Shut up, Dust,” Nightmare ordered. As he inspected the flower, his grasp on Fresh tightened.

“Homeslice, I’m sure this hurts. You mind loosening up a bit?” Fresh asked.

He was answered with a smack on the head by another tendril, which knocked his glasses off. Lo and behold there was a similar flower residing inside his skull.

His glasses were like a mask, once they were off his entire facade crumbled away.

“What are you?” Nightmare asked. He tore the flower up with his hands and let the pieces litter the ground.

“That's not your business.” Fresh slipped out of the tentacle’s grasp with ease like it wasn't just strangling him.

The other glasses-wearing skeletons dug and clawed with their hands into the tentacles holding them up.

Dust scrambled upright to get away from him and closer to Nightmare.

Fresh picked up his shades and put them back on. “Now I suggest you bounce on outta here and let me do my thing. Or things are gonna get not so family friendly.”

Nightmare hardly seemed fazed by the damage done to his tentacles, but if this kept up they’ll be able to escape from his grasp. One thing was clear, he wasn't in control of this situation and Fresh did not want him taking the other three out of here.

He moved Killer and Horror closer to himself in defiance. He could leave these three to rot, find others exactly like them, but he just found these three. He didn't want to go through the hassle of wrangling more Sanses so soon. And he was not going to let someone else mooch off of his efforts.

“we're running, right? we’re not fighting this freak,” Killer whispered to him.

Dust looked up at him, almost pleadingly.

If this was any other time, he would've had them fight for his entertainment, but this was not the time, unfortunately.

He put Horror and Killer down. The three of them were absolutely terrified.

If he portaled right now, there was a high chance Fresh would be able to follow them. They had to get some distance first.

He tossed the other skeletons in his grasp across the store and broke the wall behind him.

Dust, Horror, and Killer didn't waste any time sprinting outside of the store through the broken wall.

Nightmare’s tentacles promptly snatched and threw Fresh to the back of the store for good measure before following after the three.

He opened up a portal to the castle ahead. The millisecond the four of them were through the portal snapped closed.

Killer face planted against the grass as if he was hugging the ground.

Horror brushed himself off, seemingly checking for any flowers on his clothes.

Dust had his hands clenched tightly around the edges of his hood as if he’d die if it was ever off again.

All of them felt like utter shit, and for once, Nightmare didn't particularly enjoy that.

He was…unnerved. His knowledge of the multiverse was even more limited than he thought it was. Before that encounter he assumed the only major threats were Ink, Error, and his brother.

There were so many skeletons under this “Fresh’s” control. How far could his influence spread? Could he control him?

He didn't want to think about it.

“Dust,” he said blankly, “Are you…” How did he want to phrase this? He already knew if he was okay or not, he could sense it. “You are completely free of that parasite’s influence, correct?”

Dust gave a weak nod.

At least it seemed reversible, but maybe that was only because of how quickly it was removed. Needless to say, the second they see that freak again they're out of there.

“fuck man, how’d that thing get you?” Killer asked. “you were by my side the whole time.”

Dust just shrugged. Whether he wasn't actually sure or just too tired to explain, he couldn't tell.

“...god dammit!” Killer yelled. “we forgot the clothes. ugh, whatever. at least i have a new hoodie.” He let out a weak laugh. “i survived an encounter against this parasite and all i got was this sixty dollar hoodie.”

Horror glared at Nightmare. “so you don't know about everything. you're not an all-knowing god.”

“I never said I was.”

“so how much do you know? is there anything else like that out there?”

Nightmare paused. Thinking of a thoughtful response. “I am not aware of everything that goes on in the multiverse. That threat we encountered was entirely unfamiliar to me. There may be more. Cease the image of me as an all-knowing god. I might as well know as much as you.”

“hah! you totally could’ve left us, huh?” Killer pointed out. He knows he would’ve.

“It would’ve been a hassle,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“aw, so you do care about us,” he said.

Nightmare was taken aback. He wasn't sure how true or not that was. “Define ‘care’,” he said skeptically.

Killer wasn't expecting that response. “i was joking. people who care for each other don't put them in shitty situations.”

“...I see.” In that case, Nightmare doubted he had the capacity to care for anyone. “Do any of you three care for each other?”

That made Killer burst out into laughter. He looked at Horror and Dust to check if they were as amused as he was at the question.

Horror just looked offended at the question while Dust was unreadable as he typically was.

#utmv fic

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