can't it even be more obvious thomas. why are you surprised that a sudrian historical site filled to the brim with armor and weaponry that dates back to the middle ages has old people afflicted with the gold dust working around the castle

Yandere Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen w/Rhaenyra's Twin!Sister Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: this is weirdly long but I needed to get it out of my head! This is based on a concept they sent me a while ago. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: incest, slight nsfw, obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of pregnancy.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemyra x rhaenyra's twin sister!reader.

You were Rhaenyra's twin, born a few minutes after her, and because of that, she always had a strong instinct to protect you, to take care of you and she always does. All your life, it was you and Rhaenyra against the world. And this arrangement always left you satisfied, you loved your sister and she loved you fervently in return.

Rhaenyra has always been very persuasive and for as long as you can remember she would convince you of anything; breaking rules, running away, stealing cake from the kitchen and getting into trouble. She didn't care, she valued you deeply and wanted to spend all her time with you.

Aemma and Viserys sometimes went crazy with the two of you being so naughty, but in the end, they always joined you. Aemma tried to be a little tougher with you both, but she always gave in eventually. Viserys didn't even try.

Rhaenyra was very possessive too, because you were her twin sister, she always felt entitled and that you belonged to her. After all, you shared the same womb and were born together, you belonged to her, in a way.

She was always quite bold and direct, and was often reprimanded for it. Rhaenyra knew she loved you more than she should have, but you were Targaryens, according to the traditions of your house and family, there was nothing wrong with her being in love with you. It was just the Targaryen way.

The only problem was that you were a woman. Not for her, that would never be a problem, but for others it would. She couldn't marry you and have you officially and it tore her apart inside.

That didn't mean she hid what she felt from you, because once she knew what she felt, Rhaenyra went to your room, which was next to hers, and confessed to you. It was embarrassing and a little awkward, but she was being sincere and it touched you.

You felt the same way about her too and it was eating you alive not being able to tell her, but she took the first step and you felt grateful. You didn't have any kind of experience, but you knew some things. The first kiss was sloppy and a little awkward, but it was understandable given the lack of experience between the two of you, but it was a precious moment,

You just kissed and hugged for a while, not knowing how to proceed. Until Daemon returns to King's Landing after winning the war in the Stepstones. You always liked your uncle, even though he caused a lot of trouble, he entertained you. And the feeling was mutual.

Daemon knew there was something between you and Rhaenyra, he very quickly noticed the looks and subtle touches you exchanged. It wasn't something platonic, he knew that and he wanted to know more.

During the night of Daemon's return, you had gone to Rhaenyra's room, as you always did, and there you found, along with her, some clothes left by your uncle and a note. Although your mind was full of doubts, you changed and followed your sister, who seemed excited for some reason.

Meeting up with Daemon, you explored a bit of King's Landing and before you knew it, you were in a brothel. You observed your surroundings with curiosity and interest, men and women doing intimate things.

When Daemon kissed Rhaenyra, you felt mixed feelings; surprise and jealousy being the biggest one. You would maybe scream at him when he kissed you, his experienced and strong lips yours, leaving you weak. You felt a desire rise within you.

His touches were strong and good, he knew what he was doing and you felt numb as he explored your body with his hands. Rhaenyra watched everything curiously. But something had changed inside him, as Daemon decided to stop touching you and left you and Rhaenyra alone in the brothel. You wanted to kill him here.

You and Rhaenyra returned to the Red Keep, sneaking out so you wouldn't be found and you both knew you wouldn't be able to sleep after witnessing what you saw. So, it was that night that you went further and had sex for the first time.

It wasn't something shy, but rather intimate. You had no experience, but it was good. Rhaenyra touched your body with care and her tongue loved your most sensitive parts, she quickly learned how to pleasure you. You reciprocated the pleasure as best you could, with your face buried between her legs, eliciting sighs and moans from her.

The following days were tortuous. Viserys had found out about your escapade and Daemon had been exiled and Rhaenyra was forced to marry Laenor. You would also have to get married, but your husband had not yet been chosen. Your sister's wedding was a painful time for you and her, the two of you constantly exchanging glances and Daemon had returned to the wedding, widowed and with your father's very reluctant permission, you and Daemon had gotten married.

After the wedding, you were forced to separate from Rhaenyra and you lived in Pentos with Daemon. You had learned to love your husband and he loved you, so it wasn't bad. Your heart ached to be away from your twin sister, but you were happy with your husband.

Daemon wasn't that bad, at least to you. He was loyal and treated you with kindness and respect, loving every part of you and comforting you when you were in pain. His kisses were more demanding and dominant, just like sex. Although very possessive and sometimes annoying, Daemon took care of you the best way he could.

Daemon had a lot of experience and knew how to please you, his fingers dipped between your legs and his mouth on your breasts or when he was buried in your heat he made you scream with pleasure.

You and Rhaenyra exchanged letters and a few years passed and children were born. You had two daughters with Daemon, twins, and Rhaenyra had had three sons. You met again at your cousin Laena's funeral, and a weight was lifted from your shoulders when she pulled you into a hug and held you, not wanting to let you go.

The three of you found yourself in a part away from all the whining and all the longing was broken. Words were exchanged, mainly between Daemon and Rhaenyra and when there was nothing more to be said, the clothes were removed and you made love on the floor, the longing prolonging the reunion.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were sleeping, Rhaenyra and Daemon met and actually talked. They knew they both loved you deeply and wanted you and were willing to cooperate and the best way was for you to get married in a traditional valyrian ceremony. With the plans made, Laenor was "eliminated".

You were shocked and saddened by your cousin's death, but you felt relieved because it now meant that Rhaenyra would be free.

During one afternoon, you, Daemon and Rhaenyra were married in a traditional valyrian ceremony, where you could be officially married. You became Rhaenyra's wife and she became yours and Daemon's. Finally you were complete and when the kiss was given, sealing the union, you knew there was more to this marriage.

The wedding with your uncle and sister would prove to be one of your fondest memories after the tragedy that followed over the next few years.

But for now, you would enjoy your possessive and protective husband and wife as much as you could, because only the gods know it won't be for long.

Hello! I was wondering if you could write something kinky with Ethan Landry where reader is maybe a young professor in Blackmore University? Sorry if it is too much and have a wonderful day! 🩷

babe I love this idea. this was a little too fun to write

pretty professor — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan has a crush on his pretty professor.

contents : female oral. kissing. student x professor. allude to male oral. wc 2.9k

pt one pt two

Walking into the lecture hall you adjusted your skirt, your notes in hand. This was a hard job to attain, and here you were, a young professor at Blackmore University. New York has always been a place you wanted to work, the bustling city was something you appreciated and thrived in.

Though one of your downfalls and weak point for criticism was your age. A young professor wasn’t unheard of, but at Blackmore there was minimal to none. So, you did notice the judgmental looks from other professors, the passing comments on how you dressed far too scandalous for a school.

You dressed modestly, simple skirts and blouses, but the older generation only saw your bare legs and thought ‘hey, theres one of those thirsty girls’. You try your best to ignore it, knowing you earned this position. Rumours were rumours. And you’d think that adults were far too mature for bullshit like that, but you guess any age is open for bitchy gossip.

You reach the desk, the large projector displaying your subject behind you, as students began to fill the seats.

Ethan walks in with Chad, hearing him explain something he’d missed at the party the other night. But when he reached the entry to the lecture hall his hearing was lost and his eyes were focused. Ethan watches as you organised yourself, leaning over your desk to reach a pencil or something. Ethan couldn’t see what because his focus was somewhere a little less…innocent.

His first class with you had gone horribly for him because his hearing always seemed to stop working when he was in your presence and all his senses filtered solely to his gaze. You were gorgeous. And Ethan couldn’t look away.

It was wrong in the sense that you were his professor, but it wasn’t like he was ogling Mrs. Bertie, the old lady with a forming monobrow. You were young. But you were still his professor.

He knew many of the other students felt things regarding you, with the way they smirked and eyed your chest, wishing they could use your desk to their advantage. Ethan would always scowl when he caught this, mainly because his thoughts weren’t far different. But he doesn’t watch you like your some meat he wants to try, he watches you like a woman, a mature, beautiful woman, that happens to make his pants feel tighter than usual.

Ethan was shy, and everyone knew it. He’d never had experience with a girlfriend, but now whenever Chad would point to a girl he would always compare her to you. And every time they would fail his silent assessment, because they didn’t have your legs, your eyes, or your smile. They weren’t you. But Ethan couldn’t have you, not that he would have the balls to make a move.

You’d deny him. You’d have to. He was your student and that’s all he was to you. He hated that, because he wanted more.

You gained the attention of your students, beginning the lesson with a smile. God, you were so sweet.

“Bro, you should totally tap that.” Whispered one of the frat boys to his generic friend. Ethan’s jaw clenched as he watched the two boys eye you, trying to lean back to see if they could look under your skirt. Ethan felt the urge to kick them, since he was in perfect reach, seated behind them. But he knew the trouble that would be brought to him if he fucked with a house member.

Ethan readjusted himself as he shifted his gaze back to you. A slight hint of his anger dissipating.

You were always eager to answer questions from students who needed help, always supportive and understanding. Everyone practically loved you. Ethan’s hearing drowned out as he watched you move and point to your examples, your careful fingers running along the long stick you used to point to said examples.

Ethan’s breathing turned slightly heavy as the class went on. God, he loved the way you styled your hair.

A while later he noticed people packing up, the lesson finished already. He held back a groan at how fast the time flew. Too fast, because his lesson after lunch was with fucking Mr. Steven, the devil himself.

“Bro.” Chad nudged Ethan, before gesturing to the front. Ethan turned his head to see that you were staring at him, a slight tilt to your head.

“Ethan, could you see me for a moment.” You kept your voice light, not trying to draw too much attention.

He stared at you, computing your words. You were smiling at him, and you were asking to see him. In a professional sense, but still. Ethan gulped. “Y-yeah.” Fuck, he thinks. Why did he have to stutter? He stands and Chad holds back a chuckle at Ethan and his little crush.

“Have fun, man.” Chad whispered before he followed the throng of students out.

Ethan followed you back to the desk, gulping down all his nerves. You turned to him, leaning slightly against the wood.

“Ethan, I didn’t want to say this in front of the class, but your failing.” You say, looking thoughtful.

“I am?” Of course he was. All he could focus on was you and the way he wanted to touch your skin. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you begin, turning to the exit. “I have your papers in my office, if you could give me some of your time we could go over the troubles your having?”

Ethan tries not to nod too eagerly as he follows you to your office.

Opening the door, you immediately head to your file cabinet, rummaging through names.

Ethan gazes around. He’d been to your office once before, he remembered your large desk the most. And the way you would look so lovely pressed to the wood as you begged for his—”

“It must be in the storage cupboard.” You sigh, breaking Ethan’s train of thought. He turns red, trying to clear the erotic images of you wide and open for him. Your pretty big eyes looking at him with lust, and want.

You head to the side door, swiftly walking in to search for Ethan’s notes and assignments. Ethan watches as the door swings open further. And he hated to see it as an invitation you unintentionally offered. He stands anyway, walking to the doorframe.

“I’m sorry Ethan, I should have been more prepared.” You say as you bent down to reach a box.

“That’s alright, professor.” His breath hitches as your skirt rides up dangerously high.

You stand straight, resting your hands on your hips. “Why don’t you head to lunch. We can catch up next time.” You smile, having had no luck in finding his work.

Ethan steps inside. “I already ate earlier. Plus I’d rather get this done now.” He tries to sound indifferent as he reaches your side. You smelt so sweet. “Let me help you find it.”

“If your sure, then maybe check that box in the corner.”

Ethan obeys, walking past you and to said box. He ignores the way your arm brushes past him, your chest extremely close.

He crouches down, rummaging through the different names.

After having no luck he turns, still crouched, only to freeze.

Your trying to reach something on the high shelf, your body stretched along with your clothes. Ethan can see straight up your skirt.

His skin burns as he spots your lacy panties. Quickly standing, he coughs, as you lower and turn.

“Any luck?”

Ethan shakes his head, not trusting his words. You run your hand through your hair in annoyance. But all Ethan can focus on his how your lips pout in your state. He gulps.

Your facing him, back nearly pressed to the shelves. He could imagine you whining as he sucked your neck against them, his hands caging you in.

Ethan then catches your expression and realises he’d stepped closer.

You stare at Ethan, watching as he gulps, his chest heaving fast. Your brows furrow as you step closer. “Are you feeling alright?” You reach your hand up to press against his forehead. He felt warm. “Maybe you should go to the nurses office?” You shift your hand to his temple and then to his cheek. He felt extremely hot.

Ethan is frozen. Your a breath away and your touching him. His pulse beats in his ears as watches worry swirl in your eyes. You thought he was sick. His heart lurched at your concern for him. God, he wanted to kiss you. What if he just…

He steps a fraction closer, your hand falling away. He watches as you tilt your head in slight confusion. But before you can voice any thoughts Ethan’s breath is on your lips. You stop, opening your mouth and Ethan gives in, smashing his lips to yours.

At the force you stubble back into the shelves as a Ethan follows. He places his hand at your back before you hit the metal.

He tries not to moan into your mouth, feeling almost dizzy. He laps at your tongue like a desperate puppy, already feeling high off your taste. He presses himself fully against you.

You can feel how hard he is against your hip and your gasping. “Ethan!”

Ethan breathes against your lips. “You want to know why I keep failing?” He asks. “Because every one of your lessons all I can focus on is your gorgeous body. I can’t hear a thing because I’m imagining what you taste like on my tongue.”

Your utterly shocked. You had always seen Ethan as a shy student. And now hearing the dirty words spill from his lips has you pressing your thighs together. “Ethan…”

He lets a groan slip as his name tumbles from you lips. “Oh, god.” His grip has grown possessive on your hip as he eats at your lips. He can’t pull away, not now that your finally in his arms. You hate the fact that your letting him. Christ, your still at school. What if a fellow professor just walked in?

“Ethan we can’t.” You try. “The other professors already think I’m some whore.”

Ethan’s eyes flare. They what? “Some whore? Do they think you fuck all your students?”

You gape at him. He licks at your top lip, already growing addicted to the feel of your mouth.

“You haven’t let any one of them bend you over your desk, have you?”

He kisses you again, pressing you further into the shelf. “You wouldn’t let another student fuck you.” He explores your mouth, becoming very acquainted with your tongue. Your pressing your thighs together as you try to ignore the wetness pooling between. You were student and professor. Ethan and you both knew that.

“What if someone sees?” You mutter.

Ethan’s eyes shine with eagerness. “Does that mean you’d let me touch you if we weren’t here?” He feels ecstatic. “You’d want me to feel you?” He loves the thought of you wanting him back. “I would touch you everywhere if you’d let me.” He rasps out.

Ethan then pulls down the collar of your blouse as he places a sloppy kiss just by your breast. “Your not some whore, your a beautiful woman who makes boys like me fall to their knees.”

You gasp, as he kisses up your neck to hover over your lips again. “But you don’t need those other boys on their knees. You only need me.” He licks a stripe across your bottom lip. “I can make you feel so, so good, professor.”

Your light-headed. Shock isn’t a big enough word. You’d seen the lustful gazes form some of your students. But Ethan you’d never caught eyeing you. Ethan of all of them, you hadn’t imagined would be doing this.

“Your just so pretty.” He breathes, sucking your bottom lip as he shifts against you. He slightly shudders as his dick glides across your hip. His breathing picks up as he tries to hold back from grinding into you pathetically.

“Ethan, that’s…sweet, but you know this is forbidden.” You say, making Ethan catch your gaze.

“Sweet? You found that sweet?” Ethan probes.

He doesn’t know where this confidence has come from but maybe it’s the fact that he has you nearly trembling in his hold. That sense of power has him almost panting.

“Well, then there’s no harm in letting me touch you. If you think me kissing you is sweet. Then your only making your student happy.” He runs his lips across your jaw. “You want your students to be happy, right?”

Your shuddering, your breathing getting caught in your throat. “Shit, Ethan.”

Ethan grins against your skin, as he slightly moves his hips to rub against you. Pleasure shoots straight to your pussy as you choke a moan.

“I-I’m your professor.” You weakly try.

“And I’m your student.” Ethan responds as he trails his hand down your stomach, and along your skirt. “One who would love to just take a bite out of you.”

His hand slips under your skirt making you jolt. He reaches your panties, and quickly bypasses them to touch your soaking cunt. “Oh.” Ethan hisses out, as he spreads your wetness along your clit.

Your choking on air as you clutch his shoulders. “Isn’t it so sweet that your letting your student play with your pussy?” He hums in approval. “You may have been unprepared with my papers, but your certainly prepared for my fingers.” Then he inserts one, as you hold back a whine.

“You do so much for us, it’s about time I return the favour, don’t you think?” He pushes two fingers inside you and begins to pump in and out, as his thumb rubs your clit. “Your always so understanding, teaching frat boys who eye you like meat.” He then grabs your jaw, as he continues to finger you. “You know I don’t look at you like that, right?”

“I—” pleasure is wrecking through you.

“I’d never look at you like that. Your too pretty to be seen as anything less than a woman. Your too pretty to be neglecting help from a willing student.” He then fastens his pace as you moan. “Let me help ease some tension.”

Christ you’ve never been more turned on in your life. Your falling apart at the hands of your student, one who you now realise as to why he’d always been so attentive in class.

“Ethan, fuck— you—”

“Is that an offer?” Ethan thrusts his fingers harder into you as you whimper and moan. Your high is coming and your grabbing at it through Ethan’s shirt. Your grip turning deathly. But he slips his finger out, dropping to his knees.

He pulls you into his mouth, your leg over his shoulder as you use the shelf for better balance. He eats you like he’s never been more hungry, lapping at your folds, as he whimpers into your pussy.

“Oh, god.” You moan as you bite your hand to quieten yourself. Your nearly rolling your hips onto his face as his hands tighten around your thighs.

Fuck you tasted better than he imagined. All his fantasies could never compare to you being wide and open for him, your pleasure his cause. His blunt nails are nearly digging into your flesh by how turned in he is.

Your hand shoots down to his hair, making him shudder open mouthed on your pussy. Your gripping his curls as he brings you to your high. Your biting your hand as pleasure fills you in waves. Shit.

Your breathing hard when Ethan stands, his hand still on one of your thighs. He’s licking his lips as if he just tasted the best desert.

You place your hand in his chest, trying to regain control. You can tell Ethan is eager to do more. But your nerves are shot.

“Ethan, I could get fired if someone found out.” You gulp as you try to straighten your skirt. As if that will make everything go back to normal.

“Professor, if you wanted to stop then why did you let me eat you out?”

“Ethan! I never knew you were so blunt.”

Ethan chuckles, wiping his lip to get some access of your orgasm off and licks his finger clean. Your trying not to shake. “I’m just being honest.”

“If any one of those professors find out I just let…” you couldn’t finish the sentence.

“If any of those professors find out, they won’t ever be back at school to tell.”

Your brows slightly furrow as his tone dropped, lust still evident in his eyes.

“Just let me feel you.” Ethan begins, grabbing at the bottom of your blouse. “Let me feel all…of you.”

You gulp, images filling your head. You shake your head to clear them. Before swiftly walking back into your office. Ethan is hot in your heels, but before he could grab you, you lock the door.

Ethan freezes as you turn back to him. “I feel bad,” you look down. “Leaving you, after you…”

Ethan can fill in the blanks as he follows your gaze to his hard on. He almost fell over. You’d actually…

“Sit down.” You say, and Ethan doesn’t need to be told twice as finds a chair. Your then walking closer, before dropping g to your knees, your hands on his thighs. “This is as far as it goes.”

He thinks he’s going to pass out, not really processing your words. “You have to stay quiet, Ethan.” You warn as you watch his eyes fall heavy with anticipation.

“Ethan?”

“Yes, professor.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore is an asshole.

notes: monch i had fun w this one, this was not supposed to be the chapter but i had a spur of the moment idea that i had to run with.

AN INEXORABLE DEATH

“And what of the boy? The Eleventh seat has been empty long enough. It’s about time that Scapino has been replaced.”

Dottore pressed his lips together as Pulcinella pushed the subject for the fourth time, extending the meeting much longer than it needed to last. They had been there for hours already going back and forth about funding matters, upcoming missions, and the long term plan of when they would finally start going after the gnoses. Dottore was irritated--he had been irritated since early morning when he returned to his lab only to find that his experiment had failed--but now he was even more irritated because he should have just sent one of his damned segments to deal with this.

“We are not putting a child in the Eleventh seat,” Signora sighed, shaking her head as she looked back at Pierro. “Are we done here? I have business to attend to.”

“A child who survived the Abyss,” Pulcinella retorted sharply. “Can you say the same, Fair Lady? If I recall correctly, the abyssal energy was too intense for you to handle.”

Signora’s gaze darkened, lips twisting downward. Across from him, Dottore noticed how Pantalone's expression lightened, a smile gracing his lips as he watched the fight that was about to break out between the Fifth and Eighth.

Dottore thought this was all inconsequential. He had an important matter to bring up to Pantalone before he returned to his labs. It was nearly midday already--he had an entire research summary to get through before Lambda arrived early morning tomorrow and he wanted to get restarted on what he was doing last night to try to figure out where it had gone wrong. He didn’t care about the Eleventh seat or who would be…

Dottore’s thoughts trailed off as Pulcinella’s words echoed through his head, a child who survived the Abyss. Not many mortals could withstand the volatile energy in the Abyss… much less a child. Dottore’s interest was piqued, eyeing Pulcinella as he wondered where exactly he found the boy and what made him so different.

His mind raced with possibilities… Maybe he would be able to find out if he was brought into the higher ranks.

“Perhaps it would be worthwhile then,” Dottore spoke up, nearly rolling his eyes when he noticed how surprised Signora and Pulcinella looked at his interruption--he usually never spoke up in these meetings unless directly addressed. “The boy could be of use, I’d like to study why he was able to survive the Abyss.”

“You will not involve him in your twisted experiments, Dottore,” Pulcinella said. Dottore turned his attention to the other Harbinger, noting the defensiveness lacing his tone.

“I can involve any one of you in my twisted experiments, mayor, he is not exempt. Her Majesty has given me complete autonomy in my research should I think the results could give us the edge in the coming war. You would do well to remember that,” Dottore said coldly.

Pierro leveled a steady look onto each of them before shifting his gaze back across the long table to Capitano, “Enough. The Captain will observe the boy from afar, he will decide whether or not he is worthy of the Eleventh seat.”

Capitano nodded his head in response, “You will show me where the boy trains after the meeting, Pulcinella. I will have an answer by the end of the day so we can put this matter to rest.”

“If unruly behavior proves to be an issue after his appointment, I can always… adjust it,” Arlecchino said cryptically, the red x’s in her eyes burning as she looked over at Pierro, the corners of her lips turning upward. 

“Keep your tricks to yourself, Arlecchino,” Pulcinella said. “I will keep the boy in line.”

“If you say so,” Arlecchino murmured as she leaned back in her seat. Next to her, Columbina let out an airy laugh as if she were amused by the whole situation.

“So be it,” Pierro finally said, waving his hand. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Dottore rose to his feet, getting Pantalone’s attention and nodding his chin toward the door before he turned on his heel to leave the room. 

As soon as he was in the halls, he could breathe again. Dottore could see a winter storm brewing in the distance, the clouds gray and swirling dangerously over the peaks of the northern mountain range. The wind was already beginning to pick up, he could see the banners whipping around in the palace’s courtyard and new recruits struggling to push against the wind to get back into the palace from where they were training. 

“I assume that nod meant you have something to say to me,” Pantalone’s voice was amused as he finally strolled out of the meeting, a thin smile gracing his lips as he eyed Dottore. “If this is about the decrease in your funding, there’s nothing I can do about that until we’ve dealt with the situation in Morepesok. The Triglav have somehow managed to rope the port masters into making trade with Port Ormos and Dornman Port more difficult for us. I’m leaving in a few days to handle it myself if Arlecchino’s spiders prove useless.”

Dottore frowned, he hadn’t gotten to all of the letters left for him at his desk, he had been too busy finalizing a report. “My funding has decreased?” he asked, incensed.

Pantalone’s smile tightened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in annoyance as he realized that Dottore hadn’t yet known about the funding issue. “Yes.”

“Why is the Triglav still a variable? I vouched for you so that they could no longer get in the way of my research,” Dottore demanded, voice cold and sharp. “You were supposed to take care of this issue years ago.”

Pantalone’s eye twitched. “I wish that ridding an organization of influence was as easy as you make it seem, much less one that has been embedded in Snezhnayan politics and society for several centuries,” he said dryly. “What is it that you wanted then, if it wasn’t about the funding?”

Dottore was not amused.

Pantalone exhaled, eyes glancing out to the courtyard for a second before motioning for Dottore to follow him. Dottore frowned, glancing once more at the brutal winds that were nearly tearing the banners off of their hooks as he followed after him.

As soon as he stepped outside, Dottore frowned. The coldness didn’t bother him too much but he didn’t like the way the wind and rain felt against his skin, stinging his cheeks over and over again. Pantalone did not seem affected by the weather, instead making his way down a path toward the overhang on the opposite side of the courtyard. 

“Is it about them?” Pantalone asked as they walked. Dottore could barely hear him over the howling wind and he realized that was exactly why Pantalone had led them out there--to prevent unwanted ears from overhearing. His gaze drew back to where they had been standing, where Arlecchino and Brighella were finally stepping out of the meeting room. “Hm? Do you finally want me to look for them?” 

Pantalone looked pointedly at Dottore’s thumb and Dottore caught onto what he was saying. His lips flattened in annoyance. 

“No,” he said firmly. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the sharp, quick answer, Dottore nearly rolled his eyes as he waited for the incoming dig.

“You didn’t even pause to think… it’s been a few years, I’m sure the fourth phase has started by now… does she not reach out to you?” Pantalone smiled thinly, he was mocking Dottore. “Is that why it's such a sensitive subject?”

“She does,” Dottore said--he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to indulge Pantalone’s bait. 

Every morning, every night, and usually during the day too, he wanted to add. The fourth phase had begun a few months back and she had immediately taken advantage of it, asking him all sorts of questions, telling him good morning and good night and asking how his day went. She was relentless, he would’ve respected the persistence had it not been driving him into a wall.

Dottore never responded. 

Sometimes he was tempted when he found himself leaving the labs early and his arm was stinging lightly, indicating that she was reaching out again and an odd feeling began stirring in his chest, something akin to longing that he couldn’t afford to give in to. He had already let her affect too much and he couldn’t risk it getting worse. 

He had been able to separate himself from her almost completely after receiving that word from her two years ago but his resistance was faltering now that the fourth phase had begun. No one had ever shown any sort of interest in him like this before and it was making him uncomfortable--he was used to being alone, only having his segments for company and even then, he sent them away most of the time. He didn’t like that someone else was trying to attach themself to him.

He needed to cut it off but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He caught himself toying with the words late at night: stop asking me questions, you are bothering me, I have no interest in a soulmate, I don’t need a soulmate, what is it going to take for you to finally understand that I don’t care for you? That I don’t want you? But every time he was going to bring himself to transfer the words to her, he preoccupied himself with something else--a project, a report, a random letter he remembered he never responded to. He knew deep down that he was just distracting himself so that he didn’t have to admit that he couldn’t send those words to her but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Fix this,” Dottore said, his voice harsh and cruel. His temper was waning and being pressed about his soulmate was forcing him to face an unpleasant reality--his own weakness. Pantalone looked taken aback at his words, Dottore continued, turning the topic back to the previous subject. “You understand who we are and you understand what you’re here to do. The only reason you were given the Ninth seat was to make the political scene on the homefront more manageable so we can finally make plays for the gnoses in other nations. Use the resources we’ve given you to do so or we will find someone that will.”

Pantalone stared at him, expressionless. The faux smile that usually graced his lips was gone, replaced by a cold, empty look, “I said I was handling it, did I not?”

Dottore only let out a quiet noise, one of dismissal, not bothering to spare him another look as he turned on his heel to walk back into the palace. What he had wanted from Pantalone could be handled another day--now, he just wanted to get back to his lab and finish his work before Lambda’s arrival because he knew that would be a headache in itself. 

Walking down the hall, Dottore withheld the urge to slip off his mask and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He felt like a broken record, he was stuck in a cycle that he couldn’t tear free of and as much as he wanted to point the blame at her and the gods, he knew fault laid partly on himself as well.

Because he was weak. Dottore was a proud man, an arrogant one. He knew who he was and what he was capable of, he believed himself to be above mortal and yet he still laid chained to human emotion. It was hubris that blinded him into believing that he would not be affected by the unwelcome development of the thread years ago and it was hubris still that led him to be incapable of admitting that acceptance of the bond might logically be the best route to take.

He could not admit to himself that there was no way to sever the thread because that meant years of research were for naught. He could not admit to himself that he was better off accepting the bond because that meant that over a decade of denial and centuries of learning how to view his lack of a soulmate as a strength rather than a weakness were a waste. 

He just couldn’t.

But that was the way of science, a part of him argued, a failed hypothesis must be adjusted into a new one. You adapt and continue.

“Doctor, there you are,” a familiar, whimsical voice hummed from behind him. “I was looking for you.”

Dottore glanced over his shoulder, suspicion pricking at each and every one of his cells as his eyes fell upon his fellow Harbinger. 

Nothing ever good came from being sought out by the Damslette. 

“What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Columbina said softly, “I just wanted to see it up close, that’s all.”

Dottore’s brows furrowed beneath his mask, trying to figure out what she meant, but he felt cold as Columbina reached out, gloved fingers brushing against the red thread that only he and his soulmate were supposed to be able to see. 

“It’s so bright,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one this bright before, your bond must be strong.”

Dottore’s lips parted as if to speak but no words left them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say--did he want to demand to know how she could see the thread? Or deny that the bond was strong? He hadn’t even spoken a word to the girl, how could the bond be strong?

“You see it?” he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him as always. In all of his research, he had never heard of someone being able to see other peoples’ threads before. 

Columbina only smiled, face turning up toward him but her eyes were still slid shut peacefully. “I see everything,” she replied, voice airy and cryptic. “The stars and the sky, all of the ties that bind, I can see it all.”

Dottore felt unsettled. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt unsettled before but Columbina wasn’t even looking at him, not really at least, but somehow he felt as if she could see right through the mask he wore, peering deep into the soul that he denied to see him wholly and he felt stripped and bare of all of his armor. He had known that the Damslette caused a lot of unnerving feelings throughout their ranks, her presence tended to make their subordinates and even some of the lower-ranked Harbingers uncomfortable, but he had never experienced it for himself, not like this.

“I would like to meet her when she comes here,” Columbina finally said before continuing down the hall. “Have a good day, doctor.”

Dottore stared after her and then down at where the thread was tied around his thumb, too bewildered to even realize that she had said when and not if.

You figured that he was just busy--the same thing you told yourself whenever he ignored your goodnight tugs and good morning tugs. He was simply too busy to respond to you whenever you asked how his day was, when you told him good morning and good night, when you wished him luck with whatever he was working on. 

You tried not to let it deter you. 

He was just busy, that was all.

You let out a sigh as you sat down at your father’s old desk. The wood was dusted over and the papers were scattered around just as he left it. No one had dared enter the room since his death three years ago--not a maid, not your mother, not even yourself. This was your first time setting foot in his office since the last time he had called you in there himself. 

It was a bit messier than he usually kept it, you noticed that his coat stand was knocked over sideways in the furthest corner of the room and there were a few coins strewn against the floor next to it. His coat was still dangling off it--if only barely--and your throat felt tight as you rose to your feet, making your way over to the coat.

You took in a shaky breath as you reached out to grab it. 

As soon as your fingers brushed the wool, you drew back. 

Maybe you should just leave, you thought to yourself, glancing back to the door, considering just trying again another day. You thought you had been ready--it had been three years since his death, you thought you had been ready to start clearing things out of his office. The court officials had been gracious as to not rush you into it, giving you all of the time you needed to mourn and process his death, but you knew that the clock was ticking. Your father was dead and there had been many promotions in the past few years to keep the growing dissent in the city at bay, more space was needed, your father’s office was needed. 

You exhaled again slowly, grabbing the coat so you could fold it and place it in a pile at the door for you to bring back to your room, but as soon as you got hold of the coat, you smelt him. Even after all of the years, it still smelt like him. Your throat felt swollen and your vision blurred as you clutched your father’s jacket close to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him there in the room with you, patting your back as he told you to sit down and help him with his paperwork.

You used to hate it, rolling your eyes and grumbling whenever he passed you some of the documents to read over and summarize for him to lighten his workload. He claimed that it was good practice for when you took over from him eventually and maybe he was right, but you only ever cared about your words and learning more about them because you wanted to get to know your soulmate better. 

You regretted it. Now your father was gone and you were left with a soulmate who didn’t seem to give a shit about your existence. And it had all been so sudden, the same day you had turned down his request for you to come to his office so you could go to the gardens and read. You had noticed he looked a bit under the weather but you figured he was just exhausted from the long day at court he had the day before. 

And then he was dead, just like that. 

One of the officers of the city police found him collapsed on his floor. The city’s head coroner claimed it was a heart attack. They said that nothing could’ve been done to prevent it. You weren’t so sure, all you could think about were the what-ifs and the could’ve beens. 

What if you had gone with him when he asked? What could’ve happened if you had been there? Would you’ve been able to get him help? Or would you just have had to witness it happening first hand?

It was all you could think about, all the time. You rarely left your room, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit in the library because it just made you sad, reminding you of all of the hours you spent there after blowing off your father to figure out what some stupid word on your forearm meant.

You were lonely. You were so goddamn lonely that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself besides mull over all of the possibilities. You felt like there was a hole ripping through your chest, an ache that never went away. You didn’t know if it ever would go away. 

You took in a ragged breath, biting back a sob as you tried to calm yourself down. You failed.

You thought you might hate your soulmate. Or maybe not hate, resent was a better word for it. So much of your life had been centered around him, influenced by him--your whole upbringing and being taught to hide such an integral part of yourself was because he was in Snezhnaya; your lack of friends growing up was because you were forced to hide the fact that you had a soulmate and obviously, there must be something wrong with you if Celestia didn’t bless you; you spent hours on hours, days on days in the library trying to understand him for when the two of you finally met; and even now, you tried to distract yourself from the damning reality of your family and the mess it had become by trying to talk to him and he ignored you.

He ignored you. 

There were only so many times you could convince yourself that he was just busy. How busy could he be if he couldn’t even say hello, if he couldn’t tell you good morning, if he couldn’t tell you goodnight or tell you how his day was when you asked. You thought maybe that he wasn’t receiving his words but you had done so much research trying to figure out if that was a possibility and there had been no known instances of it.

He was ignoring you--it was the logical, rational answer but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, you couldn’t face the truth because then it really did mean you wasted your life focusing on someone that probably didn’t even care about you.

Calm down, you told yourself. Calm down. 

But it was hard. 

You felt so alone all the time. You had no friends. Your mother was constantly busy with court affairs. Your stepfather kept Sylvie and Elliot busy, you barely even saw them in passing anymore. The only one to really reach out to you to see how you were doing was your grandfather but even he was run to the ground with his duty as warden of the Black Cells. 

You tried to distract yourself by trying to make conversation with him, your soulmate, but it was futile. He never responded. No matter how hard you tried.

Your hands were shaky as you finally let your father’s coat drop from your chest, fingers trembling as you folded the coat to place it in the box you had set up near the door. You had to figure out what all you were going to bring back to your room--you figured you needed to get all of the papers out of here. You didn’t know if any of them had sensitive information and you didn’t want to risk anything falling into the wrong hands.

You tried to focus as you dropped down to your hands and knees but your mind felt muddled. As you started stacking them in a neat pile, you caught sight of your father’s bookshelf from the corner of your eye. Right in the middle was a familiar set of books with a silver and gold binding, one that you hadn’t seen since you were a child.

Longing, sadness, guilt--you couldn’t tell what the feeling stirring up your chest was as you rose back to your feet to make your way over to the bookcase, body moving on autopilot. A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the six volumes lined up of Princess Mina and the Fallen Nation, the old book collection that your father used to read to you before bed before your stepfather had arrived in Fontaine and your father moved back to the city. 

Even years later, he always laughed with your grandfather over how you used to force him to read the fifth volume about the argument between the Princess Mina and the samurai over and over and over again, to the point that he knew how to recite it word for word. Your mother scolded him every time--said the series was by no means acceptable for a child--but he only ever winked at you and promised that this would be the last time. A lie, of course, and your mother knew it, if the way she rolled her eyes had anything to say about it.

You wondered if he kept the set lined up to remind him of the good days--the days before your stepfather.

You reached for the fifth volume, your smile fading a bit when you noticed that it was lighter than you expected. Your brows furrowed as you opened the book, realizing that the majority of the pages had been cut out in the shape of a square--a hidden pocket to hide treasures, just like how the Princess had done in the sixth volume to hide her plans from the samurai. 

Your chest felt heavy as you reached for what was laying inside: a letter in your father’s handwriting, stained with faded droplets of blood, and a Fatui insignia.

“This is getting out of hand.”

Dottore looked up as a familiar voice rang loud and icy throughout the lab. His eyes drew up to a familiar form, one identical to his own--the Lambda segment had finally arrived. Dottore placed his pen down on the lab table, raising his eyebrows as he waited for him to continue.

“The other segments are out of control, not that you would know considering you sent them away for me to deal with,” Lambda told him, placing down the bag he was carrying on the lab table as he stood across from Dottore. “The younger segments are haywire over the thread, they haven’t calmed down once since it first appeared and now even some of the older segments are starting to become more aggravated--Delta and Rho are pushing on behalf of Iota and Gamma. Epsilon has made his opinion well known since he got word of it. Even Theta has started to ask more questions. I will not deal with it anymore.”

“You will do whatever I order you to do, Lambda. Don’t forget what you are,” Dottore warned. “Sit down, I called you here to report on your research not to hear your opinion.”

“Is that not why I was created?” Lambda did not back down, not a hint of emotion seeped through the vacant expression painted on his face. Red eyes void of any sort of feeling or weakness, any sort of hesitation. “An objective perspective, untainted by human vices and folly to prevent us from falling victim to them so it does not affect our goals. I am telling you that this needs to be handled. Now. It is already impeding our research. We’ve lost over ten years of progress because of this distraction.”

Most of the segments had learned to repress human emotions over time--some were never able to, like the younger segments and Theta, while others like Delta, Rho and Zeta, had decent control over their emotions but still often fell victim to outbursts of rage and irritation. 

Lambda did not have to learn as he had none.

Dottore valued all perspectives when it came to his research. He created versions himself frozen in time at some of the most formative moments of his life: being chased from his village, being accepted into the Akademiya as a scholar, being outcast from the Akademiya, brought into the Fatui as a recruit and then his promotion to Harbinger. A version of himself too young to fully understand the cruelty of the world and a version of himself whose mind developed and adapted over time. A version of himself with too much humanity and a version of himself without any.

It had been difficult influencing the essence of the Irminsul branches to create the Epsilon and Lambda segments as he was not simply freezing a previous mindset of himself in time and placing it into a vessel. He had to engineer the fundamental aspects of each of the cores that housed the consciousness of the segments to manipulate the way that they did--or did not--process emotions and he had to be careful enough so that it was still inherently him but different, allowing him a new perspective in his research that was more than just him frozen in time at a younger point of his life.

It had taken several attempts and many failures but three centuries ago he had finally been able to create Lambda, a segment who cared for nothing but the expansion and success of his experiments, his very existence laid upon his ability to bring their research to new ends without the shackles of humanity binding him because so much as Dottore liked to believe he was able to extinguish any and all emotion he might feel, he knew logically it was impossible and he had to factor that in when it came to results. The Lambda segment had an objectivity in his perspective that none of the other segments, or Dottore himself, were able to obtain--influenced by the past and repressed emotions, even if it was subtly enough that it could not be seen on the surface.

Epsilon had been created later--the antithesis of the Lambda segment, a segment that could process humanity on a level beyond what Dottore or any of the other segments were capable of. Dottore hadn’t seen the benefit in creating a segment like that but the Zeta segment had pushed for it, saying that it was unwise to create one extreme without another to balance it out, it led to biased results. Dottore had a feeling that the Zeta segment was simply sick of having to take care of the Kappa segment but there was no fault in his logic. 

Thus, half a century after the creation of the Lambda segment, the Epsilon segment came into existence. 

“I am handling it,” Dottore said sharply. “Sit down and report.”

“This is my report,” Lambda, unlike the other segments, did not back down when Dottore made demands of him that he did not agree with. It was Dottore’s own fault, he had given Lambda authority over the other segments because of his impartiality and it made him arrogant. “My research has been disrupted and I will not be able to continue it until this situation is properly handled. Thus, I’m requesting all of the information you have on the distraction so I can handle it myself.”

Dottore’s lips thinned, gaze steadying on Lambda. “No.”

Lambda raised his eyebrows, “No?”

“You are a segment, not a mimic,” Dottore said, poison lacing his tone. “I said no. Return to Sumeru and continue your research. No harm is to come to the girl, we don’t know how it will affect us.”

Lambda stared at him and Dottore knew exactly what the segment was thinking.

It won’t affect me.

“It should not affect you at all unless you’ve become attached to the mere idea of her, that’s the only way the loss of the bond can affect someone who has not met their ‘soulmate’,” his voice gave way to no emotion but Dottore knew it was an accusation, that him throwing out the word soulmate was meant to be a mockery, a dig at the other segments, a dig at him.

“You created me to make sure we continue to do what is best for our research,” Lambda continued coldly. “I will do just that. Handle it or I will. You are doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do and it is impeding our progress.”

Dottore inhaled sharply, his temper spiking--he was barely able to control himself, tone venomous as he spoke, “And what exactly is that? What am I doing, Lambda?”

“Getting attached,” Lambda said. “You’re allowing yourself to be weak and that in turn is making all of us weak. The weakness is inhibiting our ability to make headway on our research and if you can’t even see that then…”

Lambda trailed off, he didn’t have to finish what he was going to say, Dottore already knew. If you can’t even see that then maybe you’re too far gone already.

“Get out,” Dottore said, restraining the blizzard of emotions that were whirling inside him. Fury, not only at Lambda and the blatant disrespect but also at himself because he remembered the nights he prepared to tell her that enough was enough and he had no desire to have a soulmate and he remembered all of the times that instead of transferring the words to her, he instead chose to preoccupy himself with a new project. “The only one impeding my research right now is you. If you weren’t going to bring anything worthwhile, you should have remained in Sumeru.”

Lambda was right, Dottore had allowed himself to get attached to the faceless figure on the other side of his thread even after all of the insurances he had put in place to prevent this from happening. He didn’t even know how it happened, he had been certain that after he had received that word from her, he was done with it all. It had to have been subtly over the course of the past decade and a half, slow enough for it to creep in, in a way that he couldn’t notice on his own, in a way that he could still keep himself convinced that he had no attachment to her--like a slow, inevitable death.

Distantly, he realized that he wouldn’t have even cared about the word cursed showing up on his forearm to begin with unless he had gotten attached to her. It should have had no effect on him.

“Once she learns what you are, what we are, she will leave anyway. You know that. No one wants to be bonded with a monster.” 

Lambda didn’t say anything else as he left the lab and as soon as the door shut behind him, Dottore’s shoulders slumped and he pressed his head against his hands, elbows resting on the table as he massaged his face, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. 

Severing the thread was not possible.

Are you sure? A part of him questioned, or had you just not been looking into it hard enough because deep down you didn’t want it severed?

Dottore’s lips twisted. That was not the case. He had tried. He had spent years researching it, trying to figure out what could be done. Not only for his own sake but for hers too.

If you can’t sever through science then…

His arm stung, a familiar feeling that he had grown used to over the past few months. He didn’t even want to look down and see what she was asking him. It was late--if he had to guess, it was probably either the daily goodnight or she had felt his volatile emotions and wanted to know if he was okay. 

How was your day?

Dottore shut his eyes, finally making a decision. 

If you can’t sever through science then it must be done emotionally.

The city was cold--there was a winter storm blowing south from the northern lands that had the windows creaking and rattling. The fireplace burned hot on the other side of the room but somehow you still felt cold, staring down at your food as you waited for your grandfather to finish reading the letter that your father had left for you and the insignia that he had stashed with it. 

You didn’t know what to do. You had sat on the letter for days now, reading it over and over and over again until the words were branded on your brain and you could recite them without even having the letter in front of you. 

Your father spoke of blasphemy, sacrilege--a crime that would have your stepfather thrown beneath the city into the black cells for the rest of his life, a crime that could have your siblings cast out from the highest tiers of the Fontaine court, shunned and outcast for their father’s transgressions against the court and the gods. 

Faking a bond. Being a Snezhnayan infiltrator. 

You had heard rumors of the first before--long forgotten techniques of ancient Snezhnayan strigoi who masked as mortals and toyed with mens’ minds to lure in their prey. You thought that they were just old wives’ tales to scare young girls and boys but your father seemed certain in his letter that your stepfather was somehow faking the bond with your mother and you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe it was true or not… because then that meant you life was ruined not because your mother had finally found happiness in her soulmate, even if you did not like him, but instead it meant that he was manipulating her mind. 

“There is not enough proof,” your grandfather finally said, knuckles tight and tense around the parchment as he read what you believed was your father’s last words before his death. “If we present this to Her Excellency, it will be a challenge of our word against his. He will have your mother’s support and her family’s, the President of the Research Institute will back them and he’s gained a lot of influence throughout the city with the recent energy developments.”

Energy developments, you thought bitterly, they were only a temporary solution to the apparatus crisis happening throughout the city but even if the solution was only temporary, it eased the stress on the civilians and elite alike, and it made them view him in a better light. As if the whole crisis wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

Your lips twisted, grip on the hem of your shirt tightening, “The Commissioner will side with us,” you said. “Wrio is going to take over soon. I can talk to him.”

Wriothesley. He was the one you were meant to marry in the coming years. You didn’t talk to him often, both of you were always busy with your own duties, but you had always gotten along well enough when you were together. He was born with a black mark--a dead soulmate. You thought he was a good man but he was always sad. People thought it was a miracle that he could even function being born with a dead soulmate but you didn’t think it was so surprising. He never got to have a soulmate, he never knew what he lost and that was what usually killed: knowing that you could’ve had it all, or even having it all, but then it being ripped away from you.

“People are not happy with the city police,” your grandfather said. “Elites and civilians.. I don’t know how much help the Commissioner’s support would be.”

Your head hurt. You shut your eyes briefly. There were five positions of influence in Fontaine, each of them passed down through the nation’s five most elite families--the Chief Justice, the Warden of the Black Cells, Commissioner of the City Police, Chief of the Gendarmerie, and the President of the Research Institute, who also handled the cities infrastructure. Your grandfather was the current Warden and his closest friend was the Commissioner… but the influence of the positions was not uniform, especially over the past ten years. 

The Chief Justice was always the most popular of the five positions--Neuvillette was the current one and you knew he would remain neutral should things escalate. He was the one that controlled everything--the Hydro Archon’s voice, her eyes and ears whenever she didn’t join him in court. Everyone wanted to be close to him because they thought that him viewing them in a more positive light would be the difference between freedom and the rest of their life spent in the Black Cells. They were wrong, of course, Neuvillette wouldn’t let personal relationships cloud his judgment but you couldn’t really blame them for trying. 

The Warden was always an unpopular but powerful position, many of the elite and especially the civilians feared him, knowing that should they slip up once, their lives would be in his hands. The Commissioner of the City Police’s popularity has been on a steadily downward trend since rebellion began stirring in the city. The civilians thought that the police were too harsh on them but the elites thought that they’re not being harsh enough, which is why the epidemic of dissent kept spreading. They were resented on all sides. 

On the other hand, the Chief of the Gendarmerie was only becoming more popular, your uncle held the position, but you thought it was stupid because the only reason why he was so popular was because he had nothing to do in the city. There was no reason for the civilians and the elite to hate him because he dealt with policing the countryside--which usually only consisted of dealing with rogue hillichurls and the occasional band of treasure hoarders. If the Gendarmerie had to handle Fontaine’s population like the city police did, they would be just as unpopular. 

And the President of the Institute had been unpopular for nearly a decade--he was blamed for the energy crisis, rightfully, but he and his officers found that temporary solution so his popularity skyrocketed because the people no longer had to deal with unstable heating during the winter and the city’s power going in and out once every few hours. You figured the popularity spike would disappear once the apparati failed again but that didn’t help you now.

Your throat spasmed as you swallowed. “I don’t understand,” you said. “Are we just supposed to let this go? He’s Fatui, he’s lying to my mother, and he killed father because father started asking questions. Am I supposed to just share a dinner table with him and act like everything is fine?”

“We have no proof,” you went quiet as your grandfather leveled a steady gaze onto you. “We can accuse him as much as we want. We can show Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon your father’s letter and the insignia but when it comes down to it it will be a battle of words, and we will lose. The only witness that might’ve been able to convince the Hydro Archon is dead.”

You thought you might cry. You could feel the tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You thought that by bringing this to your grandfather would be the answer to all of your questions, that he would know what to do and they would be able to throw that weasel  of a man beneath the city, let him rot in the Black Cells. 

“If we accuse him of being Fatui, the Hydro Archon will act,” you hissed. “I’m not stupid, I know that this all has escalated because the north is planning a rebellion against the gods-”

“Quiet.”

“She will do something,” you finally said, catching the anger in your grandfather’s eyes as you spoke of the taboo subject. “She hunts down anyone affiliated with Snezhnaya, if he is accused of being a Fatui spy, she’ll act.”

“Neuvillette will intervene,” your grandfather shook his head. “He knows that if the Hydro Archon tries to imprison him without a proper trial, it will turn the elite against her. They are already nervous, if they see her targeting one of their own, it will rip their security blanket off. He will make sure that this is taken to trial and if it is taken to trial then we will lose. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you said but your voice was thick and you weren’t sure if you were angry or upset. You rose to your feet, food untouched. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before you were walking out of the dining room toward the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you let yourself crumble--sitting on the ground with your knees tucked to your chest and your body trembling. You thought it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that your father was gone and it wasn’t fair that your stepfather had done it and he was just going to get away with it. Fontaine was supposed to be the city of justice but corruption ran rampant throughout the streets. You were sick of it.

You exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself down, instead focusing on your forearm. You hated that even though he clearly wanted nothing to do with you, you still turned to him whenever you were breaking down. You hated even more that it worked every time.

How was your day?

You knew you wouldn’t get a response. You never did. Sometimes you liked to imagine what he might be doing--buried in research and experiments, facing the frustrations of failure left and right. Realistically, he was just ignoring you. You had come to terms with that. But still, you enjoyed indulging yourself in the delusions sometimes. 

But this time was different, there was a spike of emotion from him--anger--and you rarely ever felt anything from him, much less something this strong seemingly in response to your question. Maybe he had a bad day, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly, but then your arm stung. It was subtle, something you barely even noticed but you knew what it was. 

Your gaze turned down to your forearm and as your eyes fell to the words branded on your skin, your heart sunk. 

Enough. I have no interest in having a soulmate. 

You stared, numb, at the words, waiting for them to change, wondering if you were reading them wrong. You knew you weren’t and you thought that you shouldn’t be as upset as you were but your whole chest felt as if it was caving in on itself, you felt like no matter how fast or deep you breathed in, none of the air was getting to your lungs.

You knew this, you told yourself, trying to calm yourself down again. You had known this deep down. It was inevitable. He had been ignoring you for months--longer than that, really, ever since you were a child and you would tug your thread before bed, waiting for him to tug it back. But you supposed it didn’t matter how much you might’ve known that it was true because you never expected him to be so… blunt about it, and you couldn’t help but hold out hope that maybe those delusions you fancied so much might prove to be true

You thought, maybe, that a part of you might have died right there.

Rejection. In everything you had read about soulmates, you didn’t think you had ever heard of someone being rejected by theirs. You stared at your thread, you wondered if it would sever at his words, if it would crumble to dust or blacken. You waited but it never happened, it still was tied around your finger, bright and leading to the north.

To the north.

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening as realization struck. Your body moved on auto pilot as you rose to your feet to leave the bathroom but your hands still shook, teeth clenched together as you tried to fight through the pain of being rejected by the one person in the world meant to accept you. Your grandfather turned his head when he heard the bathroom door slam hard behind you but before he could voice his disapproval, you were speaking.

“If proof is the issue, I’ll get it myself,” you said, voice stronger than you expected it to be as you told your grandfather your plan. “I’ll go north and I’ll get the evidence, and then we can throw that murderer in the cells beneath the city and bring justice to father.”

RBS APPRECIATED!

what are your hcs/theories about chuuya's past? feel free to go wild with your thoughts 😽

I have a few. .. A lot actually but i felt like making some art so here's what i have the stamina for right now.

Mom Nakahara

So i've been thinking about her a lot considering she's the parent he would have spent the most time with. We know basically one line about her but we can learn that she and her husband have a lot of political sway in town, she's of samurai descent, and has a lot of decorum "like those of the upper class". That didn't really translate into the design I made for her bc for some reason i was very fixated on her being a farmer lady but I imagine she has a very polite and respectful personality. I think her past involving some form of samurai heritage could indicate she's a socialite of some kind and rather wealthy and well known in the village, which could attract a lot of disrespect when the Dad is at war and she's raising Chuuya on her own.

Apart from the mostly baseless farmer vibes i DID want her to seem very soft, and very tired. She's effectively a single mother, her husband's at war, her child is "unruly" and gets into fights and she's might be getting shit from the people she knows around her. It's stressful.

2. Gender

So here this might be diverging from canon, but this is very very important to me. i headcanon Chuuya as FtM transgender, like this is just super ingrained in my mind. Projection mostly. (Also why whenever I draw genderbender art of him, Girl Chuuya's body isn't particularly feminine, maybe she hasn't gotten her tits yet. I want the trans/nb reading to be very available.)

So anyways when i was thinking about his past, i was wondering if he even started considering gender that way. Maybe, maybe not. I think he might have gone for a more "tomboy" type attitude when he was a kid, begging his mom to let him wear "non-girly clothes" instead. Maybe she lets him to that because wearing shorts instead of a skirt isn't something that really matters in her eyes, cutting her kid's hair short isn't a big deal. So i think mom would be accepting of the idea that her son's trans, but maybe other townspeople aren't. And they spread rumors about Chuuya's mother "for raising him wrong."

Cue some kindergarten Chuuya out to bat for his mom's honor.

3. Professor N.

This is a really obvious one to me, but I believe that Chuuya knew N before the lab. Two versions I bounce between: N being a friend of his father's during the war. If N really does stand for "Nakahara" maybe N is his uncle on his mom's side. Either way I think some kind of accident or risk was involved with Chuuya's ability manifestation, and contact N who they know is involved with some secret ability research and they trust him enough to send Chuuya to the lab with him to "get him fixed"

If chuuya's original ability was the self contradicting power enhancement ability, maybe an accident involving him over powering something and it like. exploding or something. Or maybe he used it on himself and some kind of singularity opened up (black holes maybe??) Either way something really dramatic bc Chuuya's ability is dramatic.

Anyways. theres something very insidious to me about N knowing Chuuya as a kid. As soon as he was given the chance to, he not only faked his death, experimented on him, but systematically abused him in order to make him lose his sense of self/sense of humanity. essentially forcing him into an object/weapon. Not a person anymore. It's sick, N is honestly one of (if not THE) most genuinely evil characters in all of bsd.

Overall I'm hesitant on the idea of Chuuya's parents being awful but it is possible. I've got several different fluctuating versions of his pre-lab backstory honestly.

A Step Ahead

Yandere! Tomioka x Fem! Reader

18+

After celebrating New Year's in the city with your friends, it's time to go home for the night. A man is behind you. What will you do?

This is a game I've come up with where I will provide you with a couple paragraphs of story then give you choices for what actions the reader takes next. The winner of the poll will be the next section of the story the I will give you guys the next round of choices until the fanfic is concluded. Smut will occur at some point. Please join!

Warnings: Yandere, Smut later on

“We’ll see you later!”

“Yeah, see ya!”

You slowly turned away from them, walking down the busy street toward the eastern exit, passing several parade mascots and prancing dancers covered head to toe in loud clothing. The New Year’s Festival was always busy, but this year seemed to be especially popular, almost twice the amount of people than usual. You also were only visiting the city to visit friends and celebrate, but it just seemed so strange that everything was so crowded. Lines were longer for games and food couldn’t be made fast enough. You nearly didn’t stay long enough for the fireworks due to such overstimulation but with some pestering and blackmail by your friends, you bore through it long enough.

Quite honestly, you didn’t even want to spend so long in the city tonight. If you were up to you, you all would have gone to the festival, played a couple games, ate some food, watched a stage play, then gone back to someone’s home to lie around and gossip. But the ladies insisted you stay out all night, fooling around and even flirting with some boys that your fathers most certainly wouldn’t have approved of you talking to. It’s not that you minded too much being out and about, but it’s just… not what you had in mind for tonight specifically. You’ve been quite a bit anxious as of late, something felt off. You couldn’t point it out just yet, but the hair rising along your nape whispered cautions into your ear like a prophecy. It felt as if something were to go wrong at some point, so might as well quit while you were ahead.

Unfortunately, you didn’t live in the city like your friends. Your parents still had their residence in a nearby small village and as much as you would’ve liked to have moved out by now, you simply couldn’t afford it. Your job at the shop didn’t pay enough, you weren’t in a relationship, much less did you have a husband, and you just weren’t ready to leave home yet. Mother was pregnant again, much to your displeasure as you had grown quite tired of having so many siblings, and she needed help around the house that the others couldn’t provide. Your two older brothers were already moved out of the house doing their own things and your oldest sister gone and married. You were the oldest in the house now and that came with responsibilities. Mother nearly hadn’t let you come out tonight until Father convinced her to let you be young while you still could. Despite having turned eighteen all that time ago, he still treated you like a little girl. That had its perks fortunately.

Unfortunately it had its cons as well - curfews. You were leaving now and would still be late, but one could argue that was better than not at all. You would get a talking to at most. But the walk itself was a punishment in itself. The road to the village hadn’t been paved by the city yet due to its lack of popularity. Not many people traveled to and fro so it hadn’t become a priority. The wood was still thick this way of town, and despite the wildlife being marginally safe, the fear of the unknown was a danger more fearsome. You’d yet to experience an actual life threatening experience, but you hated to jinx it. The gravel was as coarse as ever, threatening your ankle with a twist and providing the soles of your shoes with a challenge. Save for the sparse lanterns lighting the path, darkness was smothering you and sending shocks of nervousness up your spine. Had it not been for the fireworks filling the area with light every few minutes, you might’ve turned back and begged one of your friends to let you spend the night.

The walk was relatively silent, a trill here and there from squirrels and rabbits but nothing too frightening. What was really bothering you was the crackling of branches and fallen leaves behind you. The sound seemed misplaced compared to its siblings to the left and right of you. That combined with the chill had you increasing your pace, desperate to get home and crawl into your warm, cozy bed already. The sounds quickened. You gasped.

A firework broke off just as you turned, light filling in the gaps between the trees and setting off a bomb of clarity to your surroundings. 

There was a man behind you... 

His vision disappeared far quicker than it came, the light only temporary as you were yet again accompanied by questions. You didn’t see much,  he was several yards away and taller you think, dark and messy hair. He could’ve been a mile away, short, and bright and you still would’ve been afraid. Who the hell trails behind someone like that in the dark? Unless… he was following you...

Inspired by this post by @nerdpoe thank you

AN: a whole new au. Danny is not the ghost king. He is running errands for the ancients. He is unaware but he's a baby ancient himself. The new ancient of space. Though he's not there yet.

Tim is going by Cardinal in this. Jason is still Red Hood, and also the prince that Danny is talking about. Jason and the bats have no idea he's a prince or what it means. I had originally planned on making this dead on main but now it might be dead tired. Unsure. If it is Tim is polyam and already dating Bernard for sure and maybe Kon too idk.

***

Tim, as Cardinal, landed on the rooftop across from the unknown potential rogue. They were glowing weakly and floating just off the gravel on the roof. Their hair was white and mid length. It moved more like smoke than hair. They were wearing a simple black suit with white gloves, boots and belt. They had no face covering.

"Oh, you're here! Awesome! You ready?" They asked cheerfully. He'd been expected. Or if not Cardinal then at least someone from The Colony.

Tim hummed noncommittally. The guy looked confused then disappointed.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" The guy said, both his shoulders and floating hair drooping in disappointment. Curious.

"Why don't you tell me what you think I'm here for and we can compare notes." Tim said with bland politeness. He didn't do anything so stupid as relax, but he wasn't in the mood to fight. So de-escalate it was. Hopefully the unknown would agree.

"Right. Okay. At least you're definitely her knight so you're the right guy." He said, apparently to himself, then he straightened his posture and pulled out a scroll from somewhere, making it look like it came from his suit. "Ahem ahem." He actually said instead of clearing his throat. He began to read. "It has come to the attention of the Council of Ancients that one of our peoples is claiming their haunt in the Living world under false pretenses and with malicious intent beyond reasonable expectations of the Dead. 

"Recognizing the great disruption that the Living would experience at Our collective presence We, the Council of Ancients, send in our stead a champion, known to the living as Danny Phantom, to enforce Our decree. 

"It has been reported by the Dead victims that the Living have been unable to otherwise mitigate or contain or banish this criminal from their world. The wrongs done are so numerous and so horrific and the Victims so plentiful that We, The Council of Ancients, condemn this man, known to the Living as 'The Joker', to eternal imprisonment. This judgment is to be enforced forthwith. Once apprehend and safely contained We, The Council of Ancients, shall provide a means by which the Living can file their own grievances against The Joker to seek redress.

"Danny Phantom-" Danny stopped reciting and looked over at Cardinal with a disgruntled expression, "that's me. I'm Danny Phantom, I have to read it exactly." Then he went back to reading the document. "Danny Phantom is hereby charged to speak with the Ghost whose haunt has been so grossly violated and follow their demands that do not conflict with Realm law."

Danny waited, holding the scroll open for a few more moments before he offered it, rolled back up, to Tim.

"And that's why I'm here with you, by the way, Lady Gotham told me her knights and Prince would help me and you're her knight, so, yeah! That's why I'm here! Got my warrant and everything Mister Birdman, Sir!"

"... It's Cardinal, actually." Tim said. He took the glowing paper with some concern and opened it himself. The words were not in English or any other language Tim knew. Except as he looked the document translated itself into English.

This was, indeed, a very strange but official seeming document that could be called a warrant. Calling for the detainment of The Joker. In another dimension.

An excuse to get The Joker gone forever? Tim wanted to accept this right now, immediately. But Bruce would need more than a scroll from an unknown government and the words of their supposed representative as proof.

Tim breathed in for four, held it then exhaled for six. "How exactly am I to determine this is a legitimate warrant from a legitimate governing body with actual jurisdiction in Gotham, New Jersey, The United States of America, North America, Earth, third planet in the Sol system, the Milky Way and not some wackos with big ideas and more power than sense." 

"But, it is legit?" Danny Phantom looked confused, as if the concept of this situation being faked had never even occurred to him. Tim stared at him. Phantom stared back.

"Sure, okay, you're telling me it is. But how do I make sure you're actually who you say you are. Anyone can put on a costume and claim whatever they want. Doesn't make it true." Tim said with patience he didn't feel.

"Huh. Uh, I guess?" Phantom said, somehow looking even more confused now. "Um, usually your patron would be here to introduce us, well she is here but she's not able to be seen by the Living. Not even her knights. She's supposed to be able to show herself to you guys but can't because this The Joker guy is messing with her. Taking her power and junk.

"What?" Phantom's eyes lost focus, like he was communicating telepathically.  Since it was a total non sequitur Tim figured it likely was telepathy, or something like it.

Tim waited, mentally rifling through his memories to find ways to vet this guy that would satisfy Bruce. Because honestly? Tim was tempted to just let him go and watch what happened.

"Oh! Well, why isn't your prince here, Lady? That should make everything easy— wait, seriously? Of course not, that would be easy. How can they even function? Ugh."

"Excuse me? Who exactly is this prince that I'm supposedly following the orders of?" Tim interjected. He didn't need this unknown likely meta going off on irrelevant tangents. Definitely not now.

"It's- ugh. I'm not allowed to say anything? He's a dude that… you know." Danny flinched and hissed. He glared at nothing, sulking.

"Uh-huh." Tim said. "The prince of Gotham is 'a dude' that 'I know' right. Sure. I know Brucie Wayne is the media's prince of Gotham but he's not actually an actual prince. That's just hyperbole. We don't actually have royalty here."

"I'm from Ohio! Of course I know that's not your Lady's real prince!" Danny scoffed and looked offended. 

"Condolences on being Ohian."

"Oh come on! You're from New Jersey!"

"Your point?" Tim asked.

"Look. Just. I am trying to do my job and help you and your patron and your people." Danny snapped.

"And what do you need from me, exactly? You never actually explained. You just read me your warrant." Tim pointed out.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry Cardinal." Danny said, embarrassed. "I just need your okay for me to get him or for you to come with."

Tim hummed and thought. That was it? Tim technically didn't even need to go with him? Tim was, of course. He was much too untrusting to just let this stranger run off in Gotham unsupervised.

"Yeah alright. I'll escort you, don't run off."

"Aw yeah!" Phantom said, immediately flying off. He did at least come back and look embarrassed, staying close to Tim. "Um, sorry. Got excited. Lead the way Sir Cardinal!"

***

That's all I've got so far. Just kinda wrote this to get back into writing. No idea if I'm gonna continue it.

Thank you.

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋| 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐧.

Let us forget all the menacing things that Yujiro has done, and give him a sprinkle of humanity. The relationship with him in this is either romantic or platonic, you pick, reader. Cuz idgaf <33 🥰

Life hasn't been that fair to me. They hit me with the worst luck possible and give me a chance, then hitting me again. My father wanted a son, a strong, brave one but he received a daughter. Of course, he disliked that. So, he would force me to do 'boyish stuff' such as: Basketball, football and more 'boyish' activities.

At the age of 20, he forced me to go to the army and train there. He was...proud, swaying pictures at peoples face of me in my uniform, saluting.

After training, i then decided it was enough and wanted to lead my own life, of course my father was upset, but i couldn't care less. At 24, i left the army and moved to Tokyo, Japan.

I was jobless and was staying at an apartment which was small but comfortable and had everything i needed. Japan is a unique country...i would say. '5 death row convicts escaped and are on their way to Tokyo, Japan.' the lady on the TV said, showing pictures and info.

"...Did God send me here to die?" I mumbled and opened my laptop, deciding to look for a job, while listening to the news. Japan is a unique country..they have 'Yujiro Hanma, the strongest and most feared man alive'. "Strongest? Well he definitely looks strong alright." I looked at pictures of the man.

He looked Intimidating, large and muscular. On one of his pictures, he had an ear to ear smile, i blinked. "...he looks like it." I scroll more. "...5 death row convicts...another death row convict...dead person... boxing match gone wrong...death row convict escap- ugh, since when did the world become so messed up!?"

"Yujiro Hanma looking for a... bodyguard? Why would he need a bodyguard...oh." The pay was BIG, so big that i can buy this whole building. Mr. Hanma looks like he could kill. Why would he want a bodyguard anyways?

I hesitate and ponder my decisions for a minute, glancing at the pay every now and then. I groan and slap my cheeks. I need money. And so, i contact the number.

A few seconds passed by. He picked up! "...Hello?" "A woman huh?" Yujiro spoke, amused. "...uhm, yeah. I would like to-" "Do you know how to fight?" "..yes." "You're hired." "O-oh?....Is the pay really for real?" "It's a fair pay. Your are protecting the strongest man in earth."

------

It has been a few months since you have been a bodyguard for The strongest man...creature on earth. It has been... exhausting. This man is literally a child inside a monster like mans body.

I think this man doesn't know what a bodyguard is, because he would make me fold his clothes, buy him food and throwing the money at me, orders me to threaten the president to do whatever.

But, the pay was large and made me live so much better than the time i lived with my father. I could afford more better clothes, food and make my apartment not look like a dump.

I had many experiences with this man, i wonder what his son is like.

-------

I stared at the tracker on my phone, Yujiro has a phone (which he barely use) where i downloaded a tracking app in it. 'Yujiro is in a motel again.' I thought, 'he's probably banging another girl. Damn. How does he even fit?' i shake my head, removing the thought out of my head.

I walk in and used the elevator, making my way on the floor where his room is. 'Room 23...24...25, okay.' i stood there, looking at my phone, gazing at the time.

'11:56' it read. 1...2...3. A woman came running out, crying while struggling to wear her heels. She looked at me for a second and ran away, sobbing.

Yujiro came out, half naked. "Your lunch." I faked a smile, due to my tiredness. "What happened?" I pointed with my thumb to the girl running away.

"She was too noisy. She sounds like a chew toy." He said harshly, taking the paper bag from my hand. "...of course, it's a normal human reaction." I mumbled.

"I'm not eating here, let's go." Yujiro said walking away, leaving the room open. "..sure." I quickly entered the room and saw the woman's earrings, along with a few pieces of jewelry that Yujiro left behind.

"Mr. Hanma isn't that bad after all." I hummed in delight, stealing the shiny jewels.

-------

I sat in my apartments rug, laptop in my lap, with Yujiro doing exercising stuff in the corner, breaking the wooden floor, leaving foot marks on it.

"You have a Gmail? I didn't know.." "Yeah. The government made it for me." He grunts, as he exercised. I made a disgusted sound as sweat rolled off his body. I scrolled through his Gmail "..You don't read your emails." "It's a waste of time."

Looking at the time, I notice that the news is on and reached for the remote, turning the TV on. On the news, the news reporter explained the prisoners who escaped.

I glanced at the man, feeling his murderous aura. His smile, amused. "You going to do something about it?" "Maybe." I hummed in response.

The door bell rang and it caught my attention. I stood up and walked to the door and opened it. "[Y/N]." "Father?" "Come home. Enough with this silly nonsense of yours, you can't live without me, look at this shithole you're living in!"

"...This shit hole, is my home. I'm more happier here than living in yours." I replied, eye twitching in annoyance. He came all the way here just to control you again? He could've asked how you've been doing all these years, like a good father would.

"That is no way of talking to your father! Come. Home. [Y/N], whether you like it or not, You still have my last name." "Fuck your last name!" I pull my hand away from him when he grabbed it, looking at him with disbelief and tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

He was much more stronger. I couldn't run away.

Then, he froze. His face turning into anger to fear, his eyes widening and his hands slowly quivering. He backed away, "W-w-who the fuck are you..?" "Who are you?" A voice from behind me spoke, his voice deep and menacing, almost like he wanted to kill my Father.

I gazed at my back, to see Yujiro. He had his hands crossed, with an eating-shitting grin. I can feel his aura, an aura that can kill. His eyes looked like it was glowing, his grin getting wider, more threatening. 

My father was a soldier too, he was pretty strong, a large man with muscles, littered with scars all over his body. He scared people with his looks. But this time, he was scared. Maybe scared isn't the right word. Petrified, he was petrified.

Even if they were the same height, it was obvious whos much more stronger. "F-fuck." He backed away like a scared puppy and ran. "Such a shame. He ran away already." He said amused, keeping his grin.

"Pussy." He said, walking away while scratching the inside of his ear with his pinky. I blinked. Did he just.. protect me from my father?

----

Why do I keep watching animes with dead fandoms?

[Preview - New fic]: Undiscovered.

Happy Klaine day everybody!

Of course I had to do something special today, for our boys, so here’s the preview of my upcoming fic Undiscovered, which will begin on Wednesday, April 3rd. This fic will only be available on AO3, so if you read my fics on FF.net, keep in mind that I won’t be updating there anymore.

Undiscovered is both a guilty pleasure and a self-indulgence. It was born out of an idea that @blog-carmex gave me what feels like a million years ago, and it kind of exploded from there. For a while it was nothing but PWP in my head, until the perfect plot came along. So, needless to say, this might be my spiciest fic to date.

It wouldn’t exist at all, though, without @blog-carmex, who planted the seed in my head; or without @nerdishedits, who not only made the beautiful teaser cover (and is working on the actual cover) but watered that damn seed until it grew into a monstrous plant that took over half my life; or without the always amazing @christinejaneanderson, who trims the leaves and tends to its wellbeing until it looks like the perfect little plant we all knew it could be. So thanks to you, ladies, for everything.

Without further ado, here’s the preview of the first chapter, and I hope I’ll see you all for a new adventure on April 3rd!

The only sound echoing in the dining room was the cutlery gently hitting the porcelain plates. The attempts to play music in the background had been rejected, like Christmas music might ruin… what? The holiday spirit? The meal? The absolute discomfort they were now forced to sit in?

Blaine Anderson loved Christmas – he just didn’t particularly enjoy spending the holidays with his parents.

He glanced up – hazel eyes quickly roaming around the table, as if trying to find an opening, something to fill this unbearable silence. He found his brother staring back at him, eyebrows a little raised, mouth tilted in one of the corners in what could only be a sarcastic little grin. Cooper didn’t seem as uncomfortable as he was, but then again, Cooper was great at pretending nothing was wrong.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as Blaine thought it was. He was just a little less used to being home (was it even home, still? It hadn’t felt like home when he lived here, most times) since he had gone away to college. New York had embraced him like he had always belonged there, like his heart had been made to absorb the sounds of the city and turn them into heartbeats.

Blaine had never quite fit in anywhere like he belonged in New York. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t sit for dinner with his parents without feeling like he was slightly suffocating.

Cooper, completely unconcerned, pushed his plate away and sat back more comfortably. “Delicious, mom. Loved the duck. It wasn’t dry at all.”

Pam Anderson glanced up at him and smiled gently. “Thanks, dear. Glad you enjoyed it. There’s more if you want…”

“Oh, no, no, I’m stuffed,” Cooper said, patting his belly. “I got to watch my weight or they’re going to hate me at work.”

“Oh yes,” Pam said. “How’s the play going? I’m so sorry we haven’t had a chance to go see it yet. Life can be so busy, you know…”

Blaine noticed that the smile on Cooper’s face got a little more forced than usual. There was always an excuse with their parents. They were always busy. There was always something that was slightly more important than being there for their children.

They weren’t children anymore, though. They had both accepted things as they were: Pam and John Anderson would never be picture-perfect parents, not only because that was impossible, but also because they weren’t interested in it. They had scraped by doing the bare minimum to be considered good parents and called it a job well done.

Cooper had always been a bit better at accepting that, Blaine guessed. He wasn’t sure if it was because Cooper had gotten to experience them when they were younger, more open, more patient, or if he just didn’t care anymore.

Blaine would always wonder and never dare to actually ask if they had gotten bored of trying when he was born. He was a lot younger than Cooper. Maybe he had been an accident. Maybe they hadn’t exactly been planning to have another kid…

Cooper was twelve years older than Blaine. For a very, very long time, they hadn’t exactly understood each other. But at some point it was like it finally clicked for them that, if they wanted to have a family, they had to be there for each other, because their parents weren’t going to change, weren’t going to become warmer, wouldn’t be what they had always expected parents to be…

When Blaine moved to New York after high school, Cooper had surprised him by following him there. He used the excuse that he wanted to try his luck at auditioning for plays instead of staying in Los Angeles and focusing only on films and TV shows, but Blaine had seen right through his lie: he wanted to be closer to his little brother. Still, he appreciated it. They had learned to be in each other’s corners, and Blaine was grateful that Cooper had been there as he started to navigate the new city and the new stage of his life.

“The play’s wonderful,” Cooper said. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to go soon. It’ll be running for a while, I think.” He looked at Blaine, and Blaine dreaded whatever was about to come out of his brother’s mouth next. He had the habit of getting him into trouble and was absolutely no help getting him out of it afterwards. “Blaine’s been to see it a couple of times, despite how busy he’s been with his classes and everything…”

Blaine widened his eyes slightly, a silent warning that his brother completely ignored.

“Ah, yes,” their father said, finally putting down his fork, like they were finally talking about something that interested him. “Your classes, Blaine. How are they going? I expect you’ve passed every single one of them?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Blaine muttered awkwardly. He glared at Cooper once more, as his brother did encouraging gestures that were not subtle at all. He sighed. “Well, actually… I’ve made a decision regarding my major, so…”

John sat back, eyebrow arched – those thick, dark eyebrows that looked so much like Blaine’s – and fixed Blaine with a serious look. “What do you mean you’ve made a decision regarding your major? I though we’ve settled on medicine…”

We’ve settled on medicine. Like Blaine had been given a choice at all. Like it hadn’t been entirely up to John to decide what Blaine was going to do with his life.

“I’ve decided to change my major to music,” Blaine blurted out, before he could lose his nerve. “Medicine is definitely a great career, but I don’t want to be a doctor…”

“Music?” John repeated, like he didn’t understand the meaning of that word. “So another one of my children has decided to be a starving artist?”

“Hey! I’m not starving,” Cooper protested, but no one was paying attention to him for once.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing with a music education, huh?” John asked, blue eyes so much like Cooper’s fixed on Blaine like he was the only person still sitting at the table. “Play guitar in a subway station for spare change? Wait tables during the day and play at some second rate bar at night?”

Blaine moved uncomfortably on his seat. “There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, but… I actually want to compose music. Maybe for musicals, maybe for movies, maybe just… play music.”

“Just play music,” John said and scoffed. “A very solid plan, son.”

“I just don’t want to live a life I’m not satisfied with,” Blaine said a little desperately. “And I know you guys really wanted me to be some sort of successful professional, but I have to do what’s best for me, right? I have to be happy with myself when I get out of bed in the morning…”

Pam seemed to notice the tension was growing, because she tried to smooth things over: “Of course, Blaine. We understand. Your father is just concerned that…”

But John shook his head, stopping her. “That is an incredibly childish outlook on life, Blaine. Happiness is ephemeral. You need a steady income and a respectable career…”

“Who says I can’t get that?” Blaine asked him. Part of him was starting to get angry, but the rest of him, the larger part that was usually too careful, too prone to put his head down whenever his father barked an order at him wouldn’t let the anger truly rise. “Why can’t you just… believe in me?”

John groaned, like he didn’t have the time for his children’s dreamy dispositions. “I don’t know where we went wrong with you two. I thought we raised you to have a good head on your shoulders.”

Blaine glanced at Cooper, who looked like he had just been slapped. He felt a bit like that, too. He had expected some resistance to his new career path, but their father was being overly harsh. He didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry if you don’t agree with me,” he said quietly. “But it’s my life. I want to do what I think is right.”

Slowly, John nodded, like he was considering Blaine’s words. Then he stood up, leaving the napkin carefully on the table. “Very well. Do whatever you want. But I won’t be paying for it.”

“John…” Pam started. “Let’s not be hasty…”

“I’m not going to put him through college just so he can throw his life away, Pam!” John exclaimed.

“We can talk about this some other day,” Pam insisted. “It’s Christmas, John.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” John replied. “He’s free to do whatever he wants, of course. He can spend the rest of his days scraping by and counting dimes so he can make rent. I’m not going to help him in any way. Pay your way through college, Blaine. And if you ever come to your senses and realize you’ve made a mistake, I’ll be more than happy to help you get a real degree.”

He walked out of the dining room, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.

Cooper cleared his throat. “Well,” he muttered after a couple of minutes. “What’s for desert, then?”

Blaine pushed his plate away. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

Azriel x F!Reader | "Apart"

requests are open!!! i also seem to make every character i love a papi, how weird. tw: unedited, angst, cheating, child (4 month old) death, divorce, ooc Azriel(?) wc: 1.7k

It was moments like this that made [YourName] wish her husband didn’t keep her and their daughter a secret, just so she could seek out assistance from friends- friends that had experience with children, but no, she remained in the cabin outside the city with a sobbing daughter in her arms. [YourName] rocked her baby girl, a soft ‘shhh’ escaping her lips trying to comfort her. [YourName] wanted to cry, not only was she shielded away for her safety but her husband was often doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of the court they call home. 

A soft ‘it’s okay’ came out of [YourName]’s mouth as she attempted to comfort her daughter once more. The crying little one was red in the face and coughing up a storm when she wasn’t sobbing her little beautiful hazel eyes. She wished her husband was home, but he was also off doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of their court- so she couldn’t just ask for Azriel to come home, he was busy.

That’s what she told herself. She didn’t know what her husband was doing without her around, was he truly working? Was he spending his free time with his found family just in case to throw them off from suspecting he had a wife and daughter? What was so wrong with having a wife and daughter? His found brother had a son and a wife, it wasn’t fair in her eyes to be shielded away. She was fine with it when it was just him and her, but now that it was him, her and their daughter Lynette. 

Lynette had finally gone quiet, sniffling to show she was still very much emotional. [YourName] had lived through her pregnancy basically alone in the cabin, but Azriel had returned in time for the birth, but soon after he was once more called back to Rhysand. [YourName] never faltered her High Lord or High Lady for summoning their spymaster for work. But it still stung deep down to know he valued work over her and their daughter. But that was another topic for another time. 

This spell of crying and coughing lasted about two more days before things started to fall silent. Eerily silent, [YourName] had grown used to her daughter’s coughing fits or cries for whatever she needed, but now that it was quiet she panicked. She immediately checked on her child and found her breathing in shallow breaths and she had gone even more pale than before. ‘Don’t go to them, it will raise alarms.’ Was what Azriel said when she asked if she could ever seek out her husband’s found family. But those words became distorted when [YourName] had no access to an on sight healer, no husband around, and absolutely no idea what was wrong with her daughter. Now crying, [YourName] shoved her arms through the armholes of her jacket, and covered her daughter up before hitting the streets of Velaris. 

She got looks, looks of judgment and looks of worry as she rushed through the streets and knocked on different townhouses to try and find Azriel in one of them. But nothing, it was slowly becoming later and Lynette was starting to shift in and out of sleep. It worried her. She was at the last townhouse and with a weak knock, [YourName] sobbed. She felt hopeless. 

She was a new mother with no help, and here she was seeking out the exact people her husband told her to stay away from when she fell pregnant. When the door finally opened to reveal a confused female. The female was slender and had golden brown hair, and to [YourName] she looked like a princess, while to the woman she must have seemed like a mess. “Azriel- I-Is he here?” [YourName] finally mustered out and the woman seemed hesitant to answer the question. “I.. I’m sorry, I’m [YourName], this is Lynette- I need help. I don’t even need to see him, I just need help.” [YourName] explained in a panic, her breaths becoming more rigid as panic started to set into her system. “I see, come, I’ll help.” The slender lady offered, opening the door more for [YourName] to enter the house. “I’m Feyre,” The golden brown haired female offered as she led [YourName] into a hallway of rooms and entered one empty one. “What’s happening?” Feyre asks, “Lynette, she- she’s been crying, coughing, she started not breathing properly.. I just- I don’t know what to do.” the distraught mother says gently, setting her daughter on the bed. Once on the bed, the baby sprawled out. Feyre looked over the baby before calling in a healer and that’s when the news was dropped onto [YourName]. 

Lynette didn’t have much longer. 

After the healer left, Feyre found [YourName] in the rocking chair near the window. She gently rocked her daughter, “How old?” Feyre asked, trying to just create a conversion “Four months..” [YourName] replied before a sob echoed into the room and she held her baby close. “God, and my husband barely knows her.” [YourName] whispered, not expecting Feyre to hear her. “Who is your husband?” Feyre asked, but she was afraid she knew the answer, all [YourName] had to do was look over and look back down at the baby in her arms. “It’s Azriel, isn’t it..?” Feyre asked, [YourName] simply nodded and for once in her life she felt mass amounts of disappointment in Azriel. “I’m so sorry.” Feyre said, for she knew the truth and it seemed as if [YourName] was oblivious to what was happening behind her back. Feyre didn’t want to be the one to break the news to her, but someone had to and before she could, there was a knock at the door. 

“Feyre? Rhysand asked to- woah! Random lady and child in the house.” Cassian said, already sensing the bad mood and trying to lift it. Feyre shook her head, “This is [YourName] and Lynette, they need to speak to Azriel.” She explained trying to get the female to her husband so she could at least break the news that their daughter was dying and there was absolutely nothing they could do- at least according to the healer. 

“Az? He’s with Elain right now, we all know what's going on.” Cassian chuckled, but Feyre’s face fell into disgust. Not just because Elain was his sister but because Azriel was actively cheating on his grieving wife. “No, Cassian, this is his wife and child, tell him it's urgent.” Feyre said dropping the wife-and-child bomb on Cassian. Cassian simply jutted out his face and gave a look of pure confusion. “I know, I know.” The High Lady said, shaking her head. [YourName] just had to sit there and listen, “He.. found someone else, didn’t he?” [YourName] asks Feyre and in return Feyre says nothing- which just confirms her suspicions. She felt sick, she felt weak, she just bit back the tears and gently drew her thumb against her daughter’s cheek, just trying to seek comfort. She couldn’t win this battle, she should have known once she fell pregnant that things were going to be different- she no longer could provide for him so he sought it out in another woman. Soon, Azriel had walked into the room and his hazel eyes widened in a panic. “[YourName]?” Azriel asked in shock, but before anything could be said. Either it be scolding or worry, [YourName] cut him off, “Lynette is dying, she’s dying and she hardly knows who her father is.” [YourName] announced. Azriel went silent “I’ve had to protect my family-” he said, trying to argue back but all [YourName] did was cry out of frustration. “Azriel, yes, they are your family but so is Lynette. If you truly, truly no longer saw me as a potential match- you should have asked for a divorce the day I announced I was pregnant.” [YourName] scoffed. 

“I’ve picked up on the hints, High Lady’s sister? Are.. Are you kidding me?” [YourName] asked “I don’t even fault her for it! She probably has no idea who I am, who Lynette is- because you’re not proud of what we created.” the female pushed on. “It’s not like that-” Azriel had began “Then what the hell is it like!?” [YourName] asked, shoving her husband aside and going to exit the room. Her daughter still cuddled up to her chest. 

Feyre, who had exited the room to give Azriel and [YourName] space to talk, watched from the living room with Rhysand. “I would have never thought in my years of living that Azriel would.. Could keep this information from us.” Rhysand said, hearing the door shut loudly signaling [YourName] had left the townhouse. “I need to talk to my sister.” Feyre mumbled, pushing off her husband and heading to find Elain. 

It wouldn’t even be a week later that little Lynette passed on and was laid to rest. Azriel had returned home and spent the last few days with Lynette, but nothing could make up for lost time. When the burial had come for the child, [YourName] dressed in black and watched as they lowered the baby-sized coffin into the ground while Azriel stood next to her. After throwing some dirt and flowers into the hole, [YourName] broke down crying when they finally finished. But not once did she lean on to Azriel for support. When the couple returned to the cabin Azriel spoke up, “Feyre and Rhysand asked about-” he began but would be cut off “I want a divorce.” [YourName] said with a coldness to her words. [YourName] didn’t even look in the direction of her soon-to-be ex. “What?” Azriel asked, he couldn’t lose her- not when they both were in mourning, not when Rhysand had dismissed him to properly grieve his daughter, not when they truly needed each other. “I. Want. A. Divorce.” [YourName] repeated, “Don’t you hear the words coming out my mouth? You messed up, I thought you were working but you were sleeping with another woman! You let me take care of our sick daughter alone because you wanted to sleep with someone else. Do you know how fucked that is, Azriel?!” the female said, shaking her head in disappointment. “I will be seeing a lawyer soon about it, and you will be getting papers in the mail, now go. Home.” [YourName] said simply. 

The bedroom door slammed and Azrie felt a pit in his stomach start to suffocate him. He had done this, he had messed up, he was the reason they had fallen apart.

GIRL NEXT DOOR genre ➳ fluff. love at first sight(?) warnings ➳ none. pairing ➳ sungho x fem!reader. wc ➳ 2.6k. a/n ➳ surprise... i write for boynextdoor now!!

You were moving from the big city to a small town. You were less than excited. All the streets looked the same to you. Plain houses built in the 60s lined neatly trimmed yards and sidewalks surrounded cul de sacs. It was the picture perfect suburbia— a small town where you would easily meet everyone your age within the first week going to your new school. You were dreading it.

“It’s so stupid that I’m moving. I’d be surprised if my dad’s new clinic is the only one that town has. They basically snatched him up the moment he accepted the offer.” You said bitterly, sipping on bubble tea with your best friend. It would probably be the last time you’d be able to have a bubble tea date with her for a while. Your heart sank at the thought.

“You’ve spent your entire life here… it’s a shame.” She sympathised, “But, you know what happens when you’re a new girl coming to a small town?”

“What?”

“You’re popular with the cute boys.” She teased.

“Come on- I’d be very surprised if I had anyone with a crush on me. I’ve never been popular.” You said, cringing as it brought back memories of your middle school years. You had gone through crush after crush, never landing on a proper relationship and always being rejected in the most humiliating way until eventually, you learned your lesson. When you got to high school, you forced yourself to stop being interested in boys. The couples making out in the hallway were enough to deter you, though. You would rather die than be that gross in public with your boyfriend. You weren’t one for PDA, that’s for sure.

“New kids either become popular, or stay quiet. There’s nothing about you not to like, so I think you have a good chance at becoming popular.” She reasoned. You thought about it. Your friend was rarely wrong. That’s what was so annoying about her. She was always right about everything. Maybe she would be right about this too.

Your phone binged with a text from your mom and you sighed, “Shit, I’d better go. The movers are here and I need to help move the boxes into the truck.” 

“Alright. You’d better text me and call me when you get there. I want a house tour and everything. I’m still your best friend even if I’m 4 hours away.” She smiled and you returned it.

“I’ll keep in touch with you, don’t worry. I’ll text you later! Bye!!” You waved at her and jogged off.

Your family’s apartment had been filled with boxes for almost 2 weeks. Your mom was obsessed with having everything ready to go in advance to reduce the stress. This, of course, only increased your stress every time you looked at your bedroom’s plain walls and brown cardboard boxes stacked on the floor in place of your dresser and desk.

You had transferred all your clothes to a suitcase a week prior after having to sort through them and donate everything that was too small or that you didn’t wear often enough. Fashion had always been something you were interested in and you were already dreading the fashion atrocities you might see in a small town. You doubted they would have good clothes stores either. 

You spent the rest of the day hauling boxes into the truck and struggling to help your dad lift the heavy things with the movers. Since you were just slightly stronger and more able bodied than your mom, you had no choice but to help. Moving armchairs down the stairs would be a nightmarish experience that you would remember for weeks, no doubt.

When everything was packed, you collapsed on the floor, tired and muscles aching. You looked around your empty apartment. The walls looked so bare and lonely without your mothers paintings on them. It looked way too clean and way too different. Your entire childhood had been spent living here. 17 years in this old trusty apartment complex. 

You remember going over to the lady next door for tea when you were little. She would tell you about her matchmaking business and all the cute couples she had been responsible for. She promised one day to set you up with someone… looks like that plan wouldn’t be working out after all.

You stood up and walked over to her door. You hoped she was there. You wanted to say goodbye before you left tomorrow. Maybe she would offer you tea just like when you were 7.

//

Sungho peeked out his window with curiosity. The house next to his that had been inhabited by a sweet old couple had finally been sold. He had overheard his parents talking about the new family moving in. Apparently they were going to start a clinic since the father was a family doctor. Sungho wasn’t interested in that, though. What piqued his curiosity was his parents saying that the couple had a daughter. A daughter around his age.

When they had first brought up the topic over dinner, Sungho had shrugged off their teasing about a cute girl moving in. But now he was anxiously looking out his window every 5 minutes, waiting for the moving truck to pull into the driveway of the house. 

His father and him were going to help the new family move in. Sungho’s mother had told him it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce himself to you. He was nervous with butterflies in his stomach at the thought. It wasn’t everyday that a new family moved into town. It was a very rare occurrence.

Soon he spotted the red car driving up the cul de sac with a moving truck following closely behind it. He gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before running down the stairs. He joined his father outside and went through introducing themselves to your father.

He peeked at the car again, wondering if you had already stepped out. You hadn’t, but you soon did. Sungho wished you hadn’t, because shit you were pretty. He gulped and gave your father a smile before offering to grab one of the boxes. He could feel his cheeks heating up the longer he stared at you and forced himself to shake off his stare and look elsewhere. He hoped he didn’t make his pink cheeks too obvious, but he was pretty sure you hadn’t even noticed him yet. Maybe that was for the best.

“Y/n, come introduce yourself to the neighbours!” Your mother called with a smile on her face as she talked to Sungho’s parents.

You groaned and walked over, keeping your head down for the most part. You hoped they weren’t some country bumpkins who would insist on your family joining the town’s monthly potluck after a church service.

“Hello, Y/n, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Park,” You nodded with a slightly forced smile. The lady seemed nice, honestly, but you weren’t in the best mood for socialising. You desperately wanted to set up the wi-fi at your new house so you could text your friend, but your parents would scold you if they knew that was the only thing you were thinking.

“And this is Sungho. You two are the same age.” Mrs. Park said happily, beckoning Sungho over to say hello. You looked up, slightly intrigued by what the boys were like in this new town. And Sungho did not disappoint. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome. Very handsome.

“Hi.” You smiled and waved a little. He waved back with a little lopsided smile that you could only assume was out of nervousness. He looked nice dressed in a denim jacket and hair brushed back but still a little messy from the light breeze tousling it. He must have caught you staring cause his smile widened slightly making his eyes crinkle into a cute eye smile. Fuck, why did you think he was cute?

Sungho and his dad helped move the heavy stuff into your new house. You were relieved the task wasn’t placed on you this time. While they were busy, you walked through the house, adjusting to the thought that this was your new home. Your room was bigger than before and even had a big window facing the Park’s house. Your brain automatically wondered whether it was Sungho’s room that you could see through your window. If all the houses in this town were built similarly, then it could be the case.

“Your room looks nice.” You turned around to Sungho with a big box in his hand. He set it down on the hardwood floor with a smile. “Do you want help unpacking?”

“Uh, sure! I’m not the strongest so… getting my bed and dresser in here would be a struggle.” You admitted. 

“I’ll grab them for you.”

//

After your first night in your new house you realised that Sungho’s bedroom was indeed the one facing yours. He stayed up late, just like you. It was around 6 weeks later and both your lights were on still, even though it was around 11 pm. You were lying on your bed, trying to count sheep to help you fall asleep. Except all your sheep strangely morphed into Sungho because he was all you could think of.

Your family had eaten dinner with the Parks a lot of times so far, and you would say you were fairly adjusted to the new town. You didn’t go out much unless it was for a bike ride or to the library, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought. Since it was still summer and you were too introverted to want to go out and hunt for friends, the only person who you knew was Sungho. You talked a lot in your backyard or his. You caught him wearing a necklace that you had wanted for a long time and found out he was interested in fashion as well from the encounter.

It was like the most you discovered about him, the more you had in common. You even liked the same idol groups and were fans of the same authors. How did you even manage to get this lucky with your neighbour? Plus, the more you hung around him, the more you thought he was cute.

You peeked out your window to see if he was visible from his window. He was. He was sitting at his desk and the lamp on it perfectly illuminated his face so you could see all the details of it.

“I should’ve asked for his number by now, darnit.” You mumbled to yourself. You hadn’t thought of it before since you lived right next to each other, but it wasn’t like you could go over this late at night. You’d have to improvise. You thought for a second before searching through one of your unpacked boxes for your sketchbook. Usually you would doodle outfits that you thought you would look good in in this sketchbook, but for now, it was going to serve a different purpose. You got out a sharpie and started writing in large, easy to read text. 

Do you stay up late a lot? 

You thought it would be awkward to put a simple ‘hi’ or ‘hey’ so you stuck to a question that he could answer. It took some courage to stand where he could see you from his window and hold up the sign, but you managed.

It didn’t take very long for him to look up from his desk and notice the sign. You watched him read it and then make eye-contact with you, his charming smile overtaking his features again. He stood up and went somewhere else in his room, presumably to grab paper and a pen. Soon he was back and he held up the sign in response to yours. 

Yeah. If it bothers you that my light is on, I can turn it off :) 

It doesn’t bother me. I usually stay up late as well.

He smiled again, looking down at his desk as his cheeks tinted a bit. He hoped you didn’t notice. Was it weird that he already liked you so much? He was suddenly reminded of how his past crush had been stolen by another boy right in front of his eyes. His friends had told him he hadn’t been direct enough and that was why she had chosen someone more straightforward. But he had just been too shy to confess directly. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake again, so he took a breath and gathered some stored up courage, picking up his pen again.

Can I have your number?

He held up the sign nervously, one hand anxiously fiddling with his shirt as he waited for your response. You shouldn’t be too opposed, right?

I was just about to ask you! It’s *** *** **** :) 

You were smiling as widely as he was which both calmed his heart and made it beat faster. What if you liked him too? What if you thought he was cute? What if he had the same effect that you had on him? He shook off all of his thoughts, telling himself that he was getting ahead of himself. 

He carefully copied your number into a new contact and sent a simple ‘hey, it’s sungho’ to make sure he got it down correctly. You felt almost giddy receiving the first text from him. You had given your number to your crush just like that? And he had asked you for it? The thought had your cheeks heating up again.

It was past 1 and you were still texting him. It was hard to want to stop, he was just so cute, even over text. Whenever he thought he overstepped, he would apologise so fast until you told him that it was fine. It felt different from talking to him over the past 6 weeks. It felt way more like talking to a crush than talking to a friend, which didn’t help your bad case of lovesickness.

When you started to yawn, you decided you should probably say goodnight to him. He must be tired as well.

i’m a bit tired, i think i’m gonna go to sleep for the night - Y/n 1:21am

ok! sleep well, y/n!! - Sungho 1:21am

btw - Y/n 1:21am

yeah? - Sungho 1:22am

you’re really cute - Y/n 1:22am

goodnight! - Y/n 1:22am

You turned off your phone quickly, eyes a bit wide as you wondered why you had sent that last text. Where did you even get the confidence? God, what if he thought you were weird. He probably only saw you as a friend, or worse, the new annoying neighbour girl. You groaned at your stupidity and peeked at your phone again. He had read the text, but hadn’t replied.

“Shit, I really messed up.” You felt like smacking your head against the wall. What were you thinking?!

I think you’re cute too - Sungho 1:26am

You blinked, and then blinked again. Oh. You put down your phone and shut your eyes, willing yourself to go to sleep and not think about it too much. You could always wake up tomorrow and realise that this was a whole big misunderstanding or something. There was no way that Sungho really thought you were cute, right? But what if he did?

You opened your eyes again, looking at the texts with him again.

sleep well cutie <3 - Sungho 1:27am

You failed to get to sleep that night. So did Sungho.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boynextdoor taglist: open!

Royal!au where Mahito is the castle wizard and is known for his eccentric nature.

You are the queen’s lady-in-waiting, but her majesty cares more for her beloved psychic mage with strange stitch marks on his skin. Nobody knows much about him, and many aristocrats in the court suspect that Mahito was the result of a terrible science experiment gone wrong.

Regardless of his origins, it is clear that he is powerful and well educated. He can create countless potions and can even successfully predict the future with his strange tarot cards. Mahito is always at the queen’s side, aiding in all of her decisions. He rarely ever speaks to anyone else.

Except for you.

You run into him in the corridor one day, nearly causing the wizard to drop his spell books. He always wears the same black robes which flow behind him as he walks at a brisk pace. You apologize profusely for your own clumsiness. And Mahito looks at you as if he is just now seeing you for the first time. The two of you partake in an awkward first meeting, which gradually turns into small talk. Eventually, you engage in full on conversations any chance you get.

The queen sits on her throne, overseeing her court.

You stand on her left.

Mahito on her right.

You exchange knowing glances every once in a while.

It goes on that way for what feels like ages until the tension breaks. You spend most of your free time in the wizard’s tower, watching him work amongst the organized chaos. Mahito ends up fucking you against his large mahogany desk, pushing his scrolls and spell books aside carelessly.

Those multi-colored eyes of his are glued to yours. His breathing is labored and quick as he drills his cock into your dripping pussy. His large hands push at your sweaty thighs, causing you to let out a string of high pitched moans. Mahito fucks you so deeply. He slams into your cervix just to hear those pretty noises.

“Ha…I pulled the lover card earlier,” he rasps. “My prophecies always come true.”

_____

Had to get this off my chest, y’all 🥵 thoughts?

Read more Mahito here

The Gang as Fathers (RDR2)

This was an anon request :D Characters: Arthur, Hosea, Dutch, Charles, Sean, Kieran, and Micah TW: Micah’s contains graphic/violent themes Requests are always welcome~ feel free to request anything hehe AO3 link here ___  Arthur - He always pretends to be stern with his child but gives in almost immediately. “You can’t have candy before bed….” He puts on his best mean face that only lasts a few seconds. “Fine, just one piece.” - His baby will learn how to ride a horse before learning how to walk. Arthur will hold his child while caring for the horses or will cradle them in his lap during trail rides. - “I heard a little alcohol was good for babies. Makes ‘em sleep better.” He’ll stick his pinkie finger in some whiskey and will let the baby suck on it to calm down, but only during fitful crying or when his baby won’t sleep.

- As his child grows older he’ll try hard to give them a good education. Not city folk education, but enough to know about the world. There’ve been many times Arthur wished he had gone to school as a kid. - When his child draws for the first time Arthur is SO proud! He shows EVERYONE and keeps the drawing tucked safely in his journal for many many years to come. It doesn’t matter how old his baby gets, he keeps every drawing no matter what. - If Arthur had a daughter I think he would try harder to learn more about women’s rights. He might even visit the protesting lady in Saint Denis and ask her a few questions. He’s seen how the world treats women and he wants to raise a strong woman of his own who will always believe in herself and love herself no matter what. - Also- Daddy daughter dates!!! He would go to all the nice little cafe’s and bakeries with his daughter or would take her on special little picnics. - Camping trips!!!! Every weekend Arthur is packing his kiddo(s) up to go camping. He doesn’t like fishing but he’ll take his kids forging and teach them how to live off the land. When they’re bigger Arthur teaches them how to hunt small animals, like squirrels, with a bow and arrow. At night he cooks dinner over an open fire and sings trail riding songs or tells stories of his days as an outlaw. - If his child ever goes through a tween or teen phase of hating him Arthur WILL cry himself to sleep every. damn. night. wondering what he did wrong. Even if he knows it’s just how kids are at times, it really hurts his feelings. That self loathing part of him mixed with old family wounds never leaves him. - Sorry to any wife or husband of Arthur’s out there – but Arthur would save his child before all else in ANY dangerous circumstance. He’ll save his spouse next but the kid(s) come first. - “When you’re older I’ll give you my hat. It was my daddy’s hat, and now it’s your daddy’s hat. One day it’ll be your hat.” “Hey! Stop playing with my hat!” “Di’ju take my hat to school?  Don’t do it again.” - Even if his children are around people he trusts he will still watch them like a hawk, almost afraid someone will snatch them away. - He really hates being away from his children so he sends letters about his great adventures to them until he can return. - Arthur really doesn’t want his children walking in his footsteps, BUT he does wish they could experience true adventure and freedom. Because of this he’ll plan elaborate activities. Sometimes he creates treasure maps and will take his children riding around the state to find a ‘hidden treasure’ Arthur himself buried. - When his child turns 13 he’ll take them out to find a wild horse of their choosing, then he’d teach them how to tame the horse as a right of passage. It’s an amazing bonding experience between the both of them, and he thinks horses are special animals. Growing up with your horse is a must. - “Seriously gimme my hat!” -- Hosea - Hosea’s always secretly wanted a little one of his own. It doesn’t matter if he has a daughter or a son, that baby will be in his arms 24/7 - Literally wants to raise his child as a mini him – in the most positive way possible. - Bedtime stories were chapter books and his children learn how to read fairly early-on in their childhood. - Every few years Hosea gifts his child a new fishing pole that matches how big they’ve grown. Fishing is very important to him and he makes a point to have a special spot where he camps with his kids and fishes for days. Playing in the rocks and trees, hiding in the fields around the camp when not catching fish. Instead of campfire stories he reads books out loud or retells old memories he finds amusing. - “I want you to understand, the outlaw life is not for everyone.” Hosea is torn. He doesn’t want his children to become outlaws like him… However there’s a part of him he can’t deny where he wishes his child would be there with him no matter where he was. If his child became an outlaw he wouldn’t fully protest it. He’d feel guilty, I think, but he doesn’t want to be away from his kid(s). -That being said, his kid is raised with the Van-Der-Linde gang. Whenever Dutch or Susan tries to parent his child Hosea will always stand up to them. He puts a lot of emphasis on Arthur and John to protect his babies; mostly because he views Arthur and John as his children too, so they should act like good brothers. - He would LOVE taking his kids out to see plays or to the circus whenever the circus is in town. He’ll take them to films too though he prefers the performing arts (theater) first. However, he loves exposing his children to any and all types of art. If his child ever expresses an interest in acting or writing he’d swell with pride and do anything to support them. - Hosea is a smart man. He know he’s living on borrowed time. Making it to your 50’s as an outlaw was no minor feat. There’s money no one knows about, not even Dutch. Money that can set his children for life. He makes sure to bury it carefully and made arrangements for his child to receive a map of its whereabouts in case of his death. - “And that is ursa major and ursa minor.” Star gazing with papa Hosea! - He is firm but empathetic. Hosea will uphold any punishments that he thinks fits the crime. However, he’s never spanked or laid a hand on his kids. He’s more interested in life lessons. If he catches his child stealing then he’ll force them to donate something of theirs to the poor, ect. - If his baby is sick he’ll stay up all night by their bedside checking their fever and making sure they’re okay. He refuses to leave their side and won’t sleep until he knows his baby is okay. - Hosea’s biggest fear is losing his child.   He’s big on teaching his kid safety from a young age, even if that means using a knife or a gun. - For their 18th birthday he’ll gift his child a very beautifully engraved pistol. The engraving will be a quote or a saying that is personal to him and that child. Something with meaning only they would understand. - Even if his child is a full grown adult, Hosea will come read with them at bedtime. It’s something that makes him feel loved and cherished and he hopes his child feels the same way. - You cannot convince me this man would not put on a play with his children. He encourages the gang to act excited or amazed while watching. He’ll shoot a glare at Dutch whenever Dutch acts a little too excited. --- Dutch - Let’s be honest, Hosea raises any and all of Dutch’s children. - No kid friendly books, his children learn how to read philosophy like men. -Will completely destroy his children in any and all board games. He’ll never let them win no matter how young they are. If his kid starts crying he’ll say something snarky like “Aww go cry to mommy/papa Hosea.” - He is definitely the fun parent though. (At least in his opinion). His 10 year old is robbing trains. He’ll rob a candy store too for shits and giggles, just so his little one thinks he’s cool. - He really does love when his child sits on his knee or rides on his shoulders. It makes his heart swell with happiness. - I don’t think Dutch really knows what to do with children. He just treats them as tiny adults. - He will ALWAYS introduce his children with pride. Because of that there’s this… unspoken pressure for his children to always be at their best. They always need to be well articulated or ready for action. Otherwise there might be a dreaded “I thought I taught you better.” speech. - Dutch really did try hard to make sure his children grew up smart and capable. However, if that ever turns them against him or if they question him he immediately gets upset/angry. - His children will grow up calling him daddy and Hosea papa. Dutch might try to correct them a few times. “It’s uncle Hosea-” But he gives up rather quickly. - Dutch does mean well. He tries to take his children on special or fun outings. Unfortunately it always ends up about him or the mood is ruined with a long philosophical rant/speech. - He is not a completely useless father though. If his child is hurt he’s the first one there to scoop them up and console them. He would bandage them up and kiss their boo-boo’s better…. Up until near the end when the gang starts splitting apart. Around this time it seems as if he’s not fully present and so it doesn’t register to him that his child is hurt or injured. He starts to see it as their own personal problem no matter what age they might be. - His children are brought up seeing him as this wise, smart, powerful figure. They view him more as a savior than a loving parent. Basically they’re brought up to view Dutch the same way as the rest of the gang sees him. He provides shelter, clothes, food, and safety. He is the reason they have a free life. And because of this I do think they would have a lot of love for their father, but, they’ll never feel like they’re good enough. - If anyone ever touched a hair on his child’s head… Without fail they’ll end up filled with bullet holes or burnt to a crisp. He’s not great at showing his love but his children are his everything. ----- Charles - Charles is the type of parent that loves his children SO much he doesn’t even need to say a word. His love is always shown through his actions. He’ll gently sweep their hair out of their face or he’ll rub their back. When they’re little kids Charles will always press a little kiss to the top of their heads. - He doesn’t give in as easy as Arthur does. No candy before bed. Eat your dinner before dessert, drink more water, don’t go off alone, ect. He’s never mean about it. Charles tries to make sure his children are as healthy and well looked after as possible. - What if he’s not here one day? What if his past catches up with him or something bad happens? This is always in the back of Charles’ mind. Because of this he teaches his children how to be self sufficient from a young age. He makes a game out of cleaning up and chores become a family activity. He tries to keep it fun for them since they’re still kids. - Children are the future in Charles’ eyes. He teaches his kids everything he knows. They’re taken on hunting trips and out forging or fishing. Charles teaches them how to make bows and arrows. He’ll tell stories about his mother or his experiences. Most of all he teaches his children respect. Respect for nature and all of the animals they may meet. - When Charles’ child is an infant or a baby he will ALWAYS be holding them. Doesn’t matter what he’s doing, that baby will be on his back or in his arms. He LOVES holding his children. It helps ground him and reminds him they’re really his and life can be good. - He won’t admit it but he loves dressing his children up. He likes to make or buy clothing and accessories he thinks would suit them. During winter his favorite part of the day is bundling them up in their coats and scarves. Charles thinks they look adorable toddling off to play in the snow. - HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD GIRL DAD! Charles goes out of his way to learn different hairstyles so he can do his daughter’s hair different every day. I think he’d make jewelry for his daughters and would always be singing with them or playing with them. Charles would be very protective yet respectful. He’d still teach his daughters how to track and hunt, ect. - Charles carries pictures of his children everywhere he goes. On the rare occasion he’s drunk he takes out the pictures to show everyone like “Look at my babies!” - He would be that annoying parent who’s children becomes their personality. He doesn’t talk much but if he’s with someone he’s friends with he’ll casually work his children into all of his small comments. “I need to get some fresh meat for my family.” “My children would love it here.” “I would never let a man like that around my children.” - Charles would totally call his child ‘baby’. “Hi baby!!!” “What do you need baby?” “Oh no, don’t cry baby.” He wouldn’t do it in public but in private???? He is soooo unbearably loving and mushy with his kids. It doesn’t matter how old they are, that’s his baby. - Charles didn’t really have parents while growing up. He wants to show his children as much love, kindness, and compassion as possible. The world is cold and cruel. If he can be the light and warmth for his kids then he’ll do it. - When his children grow up, if they decide to pursue goals/dreams Charles doesn’t fully understand, he will go out of his way to educate himself on that topic just to show them support. -Charles is one of those parents that really don’t want their children to move away from him. If they chose to he’ll respect their wishes but you bet that man will be crying DAILY because he misses his kids. - For the same reasons, Charles can’t be away from his kids more than two days without feeling heartbroken. - Charles would honestly do so well as a single father if he ever becomes one. - He’s a huge fan of gentle parenting. He keeps his voice calm and talks his children through anger/sadness with patience. It’s important for him that his children feel seen and heard. - Charles is the type of father that’ll beat the SHIT out of anyone who messes with his baby. - He’ll play dress-up with his kids. If his children want him to be a princes… he’ll be a mf princess! ------ Sean - God… Sean as a father? The house will be burnt down immediately the first time he watches his kid(s) alone. - He’s the fun parent. He’s also the unsafe parent. He really doesn’t see anything wrong with bringing his 3yo with him on a robbery. “They had a blast, it was great!” - Let’s be real, Sean is more of a friend to his child than an actual parent. He’ll never reinforce any rules. He’s always down to clown. He’ll be your best buddy but he won’t help you with your homework. - It’s fine to give kids alcohol sometimes in his eyes. “Go on, you can have a sip of my beer. It’ll put some hair on your chest.” - If his child isn’t as bubbly or loud as him he’ll be a bit disappointed. If his child matches his energy he’ll be 10x worse. They’ll be working off of the same brain-cell. - Sean loves to dress his children up to look like him. He thinks it’s hilarious. He even calls his baby ‘Baby MacGuire’. “Hello there baby MacGuire.” “D’ju have a good day today little baby MacGuire?” “This is my wee baby MacGuire.” - He has dropped his baby on the head, probably more than once. He felt really bad about it. - He will make his kids do the “two children in a trench coat” thing to rob a store. He literally pisses himself laughing when it actually works. - Half of the gang will end up raising his child while he pops in sometimes to have fun outings with them. -Is he a good parent? Fuck no. But his children will LOVE him and I think they’ll always have a good relationship with him. - Sean has tried to get John to teach his kids how to swim. He doesn’t understand John can’t swim…. - He never forgets a birthday because he loves eating sweets with his kiddos but he WILL forget every other important event. ------ Kieran - I think Kieran would be a really good father! He’d never raise his voice. His punishments are very light, yet he’d make sure his children would know what they did wasn’t right. - He’s not great at socializing with his children, but he LOVES to listen to them. It fills him with so much happiness when his children confide in him. He doesn’t always know what to say but he’ll be there whenever they need him. - If he has a baby he’ll be so afraid of making any noises while the baby is sleeping. If he’s holding his baby as they sleep, Kieran refuses to move in case it wakes them. - He writes the names of his children on the tags of their clothes so they don’t get lost. - Kieran is a doormat for any teenage children. He hates disappointing or upsetting his child, so if he has a teenager who tests his boundaries that teen will win every time. - However, I think his children would love him more than anything. Even if they did do bad things to Kieran I think they’d feel guilty and wouldn’t do it again. - Piggy backing off of that – The best ‘punishment’ Kieran could give his kids is disappointment. If daddy Kieran is disappointed in you then you KNOW you fucked up. Because of this his children end up pretty well behaved. - All Duffy’s grow up around horses. He loves bringing his kids to the stables. Letting them pet and brush the horses. He holds them up so they can feed the horses treats. - He likes fishing even if he isn’t the greatest at it. He’ll take his children fishing or would let them work on arts and crafts while he fishes. - While most kids walk home from school, Kieran always waits outside for his kiddos so he can walk with them. - He always wishes his children “sweet dreams” before going to bed. Every. Single. Night. He’s never missed a night EVER. - I think Kieran would take his children to visit Ireland. Maybe to see his father’s extended family. - Holidays are very special in the Duffy household. Even if Kieran and his kids have to hand-make decorations he’ll do it! Anything to make their childhood special. - He takes special walks with his kids. During the autumn he’ll make his children catch a falling leaf each before they can go home. He hopes it helps them feel the magic of childhood. - Kieran is terrified his children would be orphaned like he was. Because of this he works long hours when he can. He saves up a decent chunk of money and hides it. Only his children know where it’s at and understand it’s only for emergencies. ------ Micah - God forbid Micah ever has a daughter. There is a chance he would decide to raise her as a boy BUT I honestly think he’d either kill her, make her a dumpster baby, or would pawn the child off on someone else. In the even that the child is raised by someone else Micah would probably visit once every six months and probably stick around until that child is old enough to ‘work’ for him. - If he had a son tho…. Micah Bell the IV. - He’s a very cold father. Nothing his child does will ever be good enough for him. Because of that his child would probably try to win his favor until they’re old enough to realize they’ll never have it. - “One day this empire of mine will be yours.” and he owns NOTHING! - Micah definitely has shaken his baby. He probably spanks them or whips them with a belt whenever they’re bad. - His children grow up to take care of him and do things for him. They do all the chores. If Micah needs a beer one of them always has to go get it. - If one of his children ever becomes attached to an animal (cat, dog, horse) he would shoot that animal dead to teach them a lesson. And that lesson is to ‘not be soft’ and ‘attachments are useless’. - He doesn’t do anything to take care of them. Child rearing is a woman’s job. Micah makes the money. He comes home expecting a hot meal then he fucks off. His children are probably relieved that he’s gone so much. - Once his oldest is in their late teens Micah would gift them one of his guns. He doesn’t love anything more than those guns so it’s symbolic of how much he does care for his child. Micah can’t love normally, nor does he know how to show it. His oldest will understand the weight of the gesture and it may even make that child feel indebted to him. - He’s the very old fashioned type that thinks he automatically should have respect from his children. - If no one is willing to take care of his children, every night would be “fend for yourself night” in the Bell household. He’d never lift a finger to cook for or take care of them.

GODS & MONSTERS. yan! re8 ladies x reader.

general yandere headcanons + snippets pt 1.

contains; mother miranda, mia winters.

warnings; extremely toxic and unhealthy behavior, broken mindset, body mutilation on miranda's part, potentially triggering content, yandere. you've been warned.

⸻ 🐦‍⬛ mother miranda

obsessive, stalker, and training type

arguably the worst.

other than how to revive her deceased daughter, her thoughts revolve around you, you, and you. It drives her absolutely insane that she's drifting from her original plans of marking you as just another one of her failed experiments.

you can never feel alone, no, not with her being lovesick.

her crows are always watching, always listening.

she knows everything, don't try to hide anything from her, it never ends well.

she despises disobedience, no one wants a darling who's rebellious, no?

at some point she'll definitely break your mind, it's unavoidable, basically.

rarely ever affectionate, shows her love in other extreme ways such as giving gifts (eg. putting a golden bracelet still attached to a severed hand in front of your bedroom door for your 'anniversary', wrapped in the guts of the lycan who attacked you earlier that week), and of course, words of affirmation.

she truly does love you in her own sick and twisted way, but oh, darling, she's too far gone to save.

"don't deny me. worship me, acknowledge me as your one and only savior, and you shall find what you need," her smile was like a blank canvas, begging for someone to add value to it. it made you sick the more you think about it.

because she didn't want no simple mortal.

she wanted you.

miranda drowned herself in the way you gazed at her numbly, twirling a lock of your hair in her clawed fingers. "anything you could ever possibly need will be with me."

how you hated her smile.

⸻ ❄ mia winters

removal, isolating, and manipulative type.

mia doesn't like it when you smile at anyone other than her. she doesn't know why, but she loathes the feeling of being ignored for someone who clearly doesn't fit the standards for someone like you.

she goes to unhealthy measures to make you stay by her side. gaslighting, threats, guilt tripping, you name it.

someone asking you out for lunch? they didn't show up for lunch and they never talk to you again.

gets scolded by her peers due to her constantly being in your shadow and controlling everything you do but she shrugged them off.

most of the time she's not aware of how she's acting like she can't breathe without you being in the same room as her but when pointed out by you, she usually apologizes.

physically affectionate, too physically affectionate. so much so that she comes off as smothering.

unlike miranda, she can still grow and change as a person so you have hope…?

"mia, this isn't right." you pushed her away slightly. she was getting too comfortable in your personal space. it was supposed to be the only thing she'll never get a hand on but she managed to do so in the end too.

she already took too much from your life. your friends, your co-workers, your favorite florist from the subway, your bed, your house, oh the list goes on forever.

the most outrageous fact was that you were the one who actually let her do whatever she wanted. now look where that got you.

"what makes you say that?"

there it is.

her frown, something she knows you can't stand seeing.

"i thought you knew i'm only doing this because i love you?"

"it's just…" you bit the inside of your cheek, "it feels... wrong."

"tell me more about it, maybe I can help you understand how I see you," she suggested, but when you looked at her dull eyes and warm smile, you could hear something on the back of your mind telling you not to push it.

you sighed, opening your arms for her to bury herself in again.

"changed your mind?" she cooed.

"forget I said anything, mia."

‎

‎

The Stars

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Asgard 2013

Warnings: Loki's dirty thoughts about  Astri, Loki talking about his life with Thanos.

For someone who had been locked up for weeks, Loki looked a little too desirable. His deep voice was soothing as he read the book he had chosen for tonight. Astri had long ago stopped focusing on the words and was admiring him through the yellow barrier that separated them. His hair was a bit curlier today than it had been yesterday, Astri wondered if he had done it like that on purpose. The green leather and golden armor he normally donned was gone and in its place was a softer more comfortable-looking outfit, perfect for the lounging that took up his days.

   "You aren't listening," Loki said suddenly

   "Sure I am." She lied

   "I chose a romance book because I thought you'd enjoy it." Loki sighed

   "And why would I enjoy a romance book?" Astri asked

   "I thought most females enjoyed romance books." He reasoned

   "How stereotypical of you, Loki." Astri smiled

   "Well if you don't want to read what do you want to do? Our options are limited given I'm stuck in here." He said, snapping the book shut

Astri thought about what they could do with Loki stuck in a cell. The idea of trying to push her way through the golden barrier crossed her mind, sure her magic might be strong enough but was Odin's rath worth it? Astri wasn't quite sure. 

   "How about we just sit and talk?" Astri suggested 

She took Loki's silence as agreement and began the conversation. 

   "What do miss now that you're stuck here?" 

   "Everything," Loki admitted 

   "If you had to pick one thing," Astri said

   "I guess I'd choose...the stars. It was always peaceful looking out my balcony at night when the stars shone. I wish I could experience it again." He chose 

   "Interesting choice." Astri complimented, standing up

   "Where are you going?" Loki asked 

   "To my chambers. I'll see you another time." She explained as she walked away 

She could hear Loki scampering to find a reason for her to stay longer, even offering to never choose a romance book again for them to read together. Astri was glad that he had chosen something simple for her to bring to him, had he chosen something like conquering Midgard that would have made her idea much harder. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to get through that damn gold barrier.

Loki didn't see Astri for the rest of the week, the only signal that she wasn't angry with him was the romance book she had sent to him via a guard who had handed him a note to go with it. 

Thor's lady, Jane, says men who read romance books are hopeless romantics themselves. 

Was he a hopeless romantic? Surely not. They were just means of entertainment for him after all he had a higher purpose that he'd someday fulfill. Astri's analysis was wrong. Speaking of Astri, where the hell was she? She had said she'd see him again but didn't give a date or a time and it was driving him mad. The only other real interaction he'd had since she left earlier this week was with Frigga who projected herself to his cell. Sure, it felt like she was close to him but it hurt when he'd try to reach for her only for his hands to slip right through. Loki loved Frigga deeply but he yearned for Astri's sharp remarks and how she'd immediately call him on his lies. 

He wondered what she'd be wearing the next time she entered the dungeons. Perhaps a lilac dress? She had been in a pale pink the last time they spoke. Of course, he'd love if she wore the blue one she had that had white lace embroidered on it, that one was his favorite. The way it accentuated what she thought was hidden so well under the fabric was perfectly sinful. Astri's figure had been on Loki's mind a lot recently. Initially, he thought it was because of being stuck here and the fact that she was going through his mind at night. But it had continued the entire week and he hadn't seen her at all. Sure, it could have been her going through his mind but that didn't explain why he thought of her even during the day. He'd spend time reading or drawing and find his mind wandering to her what her lips would taste like. He had smelled the stuff she put on them once, it smelled like fruits, would she taste like it too? Loki's mind spiraled more as he wondered what she'd look like if he slipped his hand up her skirt and into the apex between her thighs. He'd love to pin her down on the bed he was sitting on now and press his face between those same thighs until she screamed from overstimulation. He wondered about what she'd look like above him, gasping in pleasure as she took what had always been hers.  Loki wanted to be able to press a kiss to every inch of Astri's body and yet here he sat, imprisoned while she flitted about in the castle about him.

   "Good, you're still awake." 

Astri. Finally, she showed. Loki's hands fumbled with the pillow beside him as he placed it quickly over his lap. It was so late what was she doing down here now? 

   "Well don't be shy, get up and greet me properly." She commanded 

Loki eyed her arms which were overflowing with a bundled-up blanket and a big wicker basket. Ordinarily, he would've risen to greet her but his half-hard cock wasn't something she'd want greeting her so he stayed put. 

   "Fine, be rude." Astri huffed, pushing the blanket and basket through the small weakness in the yellow shield that was meant for delivering his meals. "You'll be thanking be after this." 

Loki's eyes widened as Astri's closed. A soft blue hue covered her body as she took a step towards the shield. 

   "What are you doing? The guards will-" Loki stopped his words as Astri phased right through what was penning him in. "When did you learn to do that?" 

   "What do you think I've been spending my week doing?" She smiled crossing the cell to get to him 

Loki wasn't expecting a warm hug but he welcomed it anyway. 

   "I can't believe you tried conquering Midgard," Astri said pulling away and giving him a hard shove 

No sooner had he opened his mouth to explain his glorious purpose than Astri had slapped her hand over it, shutting him up entirely. 

   "You can talk about glorious purpose later. I have a surprise." She smiled, turning around and laying the blanket on the ground. 

   "What are you doing? You do realize this is a dungeon...how did you get past the guards?" He asked suddenly curious 

   "A cloaking spell." She smiled and began unpacking her basket which as it turned out was full of food. 

   "So you're here to have a midnight picnic with me?" Loki asked finally standing up 

   "No, silly. You said you missed the stars, so I brought them here." Astri smiled pulling him down on the blanket with her. 

Loki decided to indulge her desires and got comfortable beside her. His hand reached for a grape as Astri snapped her fingers beside him. The area around them dimmed and the ceiling of the once bleak cell was transformed into a brilliant light show. The other cells disappeared as Astri's magic took over and seemingly wrapped them in their own little bubble. The stars twinkled and danced in front of Loki's eyes as he observed what she had done for him.

   "Do you like it? I know it's not the stars from your balcony but it's the best I can do right now." She said

   "I love it." He smiled, looking at her 

   "Good...I also brought some food." Astri awkwardly pointed out

   "Yes, I see, thank you. " He said genuinely 

They sat in awkward silence as Loki tried to think of something to say to the girl next to him. This was the first time they had been physically in front of each other in weeks. His hands itched to take hers in them, they looked impossibly small as she picked at the skin beside her nails. 

   "What the hell were you thinking?" Astri asked suddenly 

   "I bed your pardon?" Loki asked, confused. 

   "You knocked me out, destroyed Joutunheim, then let go and fell who knows where after Odin woke up and tried to help you and Thor." She explained 

   "Is that what they told you happened?" He laughed 

   "Yes. I want an explanation, now." She demanded, reaching to poke at his ribs, an oddly ticklish spot for him 

   "There was no point in staying behind. There still isn't anything for me here on Asgard, my rotting in this dungeon proves it. I have never and will never be essential to the house of Odin." He said 

   "Nothing here for him he says." Astri sighed "What about me? Or Frigga? During the year you were off gathering an army did you ever think about what we were feeling?" 

Loki felt his anger boiling in his stomach. Did Astri think he was off galavanting across the galaxy, feasting war generals so he could use their troops to win Midgard? 

   "Do you honestly think I was living my best possible life after I left here? What do you think I was doing all that time?" He snarled, upset that Astri was only talking about her and his 'mother'. 

   "I've wondered every night what you were doing where you were but you never speak of it." Astri said 

She had him there. 

   "Have you ever heard the name Thanos?" Loki asked, he felt his hands shaking. Why is he telling her this? Stop it. Send her away, yell at her to go back to her room, and push her away. 

   "I've heard it, in whispers from travelers and reports from across the galaxy, Odin has mentioned him." She said, Loki could feel her eyes on him, his gaze cast at his lap. 

   "After I let go I ended up in a place called the Sanctuary. I met Thanos there. He offered me control of Midgard in return for the Tesseract." He said shakily. 

   "What more? Months after you went missing, I kept trying to find you, and one night I did, or I think I did. You were suffering heat or something was being used." Astri said gently brushing her hand along his shoulder. 

   "He uh...He, Thanos used a tremendous amount of heat to buy my submission." Loki said, shutting his eyes. "Frost Giants can burn as it turns out." 

Loki felt Astri's hand rubbing at his back and her chin resting on his shoulder. 

   "After I had submitted to his whims, he used the Mind Stone, one of the Infinity Stones to do his bidding. After that, he sent me to Midgard, Infinity stone in hand." He said, "It remains there, those Avengers have it." 

Loki heard Astri let out a soft hum of confirmation next to him. Minutes passed and Loki dared open his eyes when he felt Astri shift beside him. 

   "I want you to know something, Loki." Astri said hooking a finger under his chin so he'd look at her "You are good. You always have been even if can't see it. 

Their noses brushed as Loki's eyes fluttered shut again. He felt hot tears run down his face at Astri's words. Damn it why did he always cry when he wanted to express emotion? 

   "Thank you, Astri. I don't feel that way, though." Loki said his eyes opening to meet Astri's whose face was close to his. 

   "You will. One day." She reassured 

Astri was indescribably warm as she pressed her forehead to his. Their breaths mingled as Loki took her hands in his. 

   "I missed you. There wasn't anyone to read with or joke with." She admitted 

   "You could have with Fandral." Loki smiled 

   "Oh please, Fandral reading?" Astri scoffed 

   "True, I think he'd rather chop off his right arm than pick up a book," Loki said, sitting up and pulling away from her slightly. 

Astri's hands broke from his, and she grabbed at his shirt, pulling back towards her. 

   "Wait." She murmured 

   "What is it?" Loki asked 

Astri's face grew redder the more Loki looked at her. 

   "Don't you have something to say? You told me to wait." He teased 

   "I just..." 

Come on, say what's going through that pretty head. 

   "I like it when you're close to me." She whispered as if it were a secret.

   "I it like when you're close too," Loki admitted, reaching out and twirling a strand of  her hair around his finger 

Astri let out an amused giggle and leaned closer. 

   "Guess I should stay nearby then." 

Loki had no complaints about that statement and nodded in agreement. Astri's scent invaded his nose, it was exactly as he remembered. Fruity yet flowery at the same time, and yet it wasn't too overpowering. He watched as her tongue appeared, slightly wetting her lips, it was like she was trying to tempt him into touching her. 

   "What're you thinking about?" Astri asked 

   "You," Loki said 

Astri barely had enough time to crack a smile at his admission. Loki knew what was next, a smart comment about how she was always dancing around in his mind. So, he stopped it in what he thought was the cleverest way possible and brushed his lips on hers. They tasted of fruit just like he had imagined for so many years. Astri had let out a small squeak of surprise when Loki had leaned in but now, he felt her smiling into their kiss. Smaller arms wrapped around his shoulders as she let out a laugh, breaking away for air. 

   "What was that?" She breathlessly asked 

   "You said you liked it when I was close." He said a wide smile on his face. 

Astri tossed her head back with a laugh and Loki felt his own laugh bubbling up through his stomach and out his mouth. He felt Astri's hands playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, her nimble fingers pushed through his dark strands and a shudder ran down his spine. Their lips met again, this time with Astri initiating. Loki gently cupped her face as he felt her invade all of his senses, her presence was casting an unbreakable spell on him and he gladly welcomed it with open arms, after all, it was all he could ever dream of. 

Hehe first kiss for Loki and Astri. 

I am having Coriolanus Snow brain rot. Tom Blythe is one sexy mf. 

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I'm sorry my love...

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sad + Sweet

Warnings surgery/ depression / amputation

I finished up in the morgue arranging my scalpels down and cleaning up, I heard footsteps on the stairs but didn't question it, suspecting some nurse chattering about, but the morgue doors unfurled dramatically to the most captivating of sights.

Stood in the doorway she stood, in her heeled leather lace-up boots, her blue plaid dress with her immense bird cage style crinoline and bustle under it giving her a swooping skirt with a little tail that follows behind her, her charming little black gloves, her velvety Y/h/C hair pinned up with her little black hat and hatpin, her black lace parasol folded up in her hand, her beautiful oceanic Y/e/C eyes looking at me.

"Humm well, it's not every day I get a visit from such a beautiful young lady," I smiled at her,

"Ummm," she glared a little coming closer to look over the work I'd done almost inspecting it,

"Humm, if you're lost looking for the ocean little Syren I'd be more than delighted to walk you back," I joked,

"Very funny," She rolled her eyes as she leant across the table and pressed her precious silky elegant lips against mine, I wasted no time to kiss her back, I moved my hand to her cheek and stroked her smooth skin until we pulled back keeping out noses close enough to stroke each other so I could look into her blue eyes and smile at her sweet face, "Hello,"

"Hello, Mrs Dawkins," I smirked,

"You really enjoy calling me that don't you?"

"Of course I do, it reminds me of you're my little bird," I cooed as I gave her a sweet kiss,

"you're too sweet sometimes Jack,"

"Well, you're easy to be sweet too when you're so sugary,"

"Are you ready to head home Y/n?"

"Of course I am," I nodded cleaning off my hands and getting my apron off handing her a cloth to clean off her face where when I stroked her I had put blood across her pale skin, "What do I have to look forward too tonight?"

"mushroom soup,"

"Oohh, let's get home then." I smiled as I took her hand and we headed up out of the hospital and onto the darkening Port Victory streets, I held her close as we walked the streets eager to get home.

I perked up as we walked when I heard the sound of horseshoes and a scream behind us. I turned in panic and saw a black coach with horses rushing down the street towards us I quickly pulled Y/n into my chest and bolted out of the way as quickly as I could turning us so she was away from the street, feeling the cabin miss my back by maybe an inch. I had my arms around her as tight as possible her own hands on my jacket as we both just stopped our hearts racing our breath sharp.

"Are you okay!"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine too."

"Ohh... that was close," she nodded as she cracked her nervous laugh and I joined her too in that nervous breathy laugh you get after a terrifying experience,

"Too close. far too close." I told her before giving her a sweet kiss feeling our hearts racing as we kissed as we were filled with adrenaline and I admit part of me kinda got excited by it.

As we pulled away I gave her nose a little stroke with my own, "I'm just glad you're okay... I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you little bird,"

"I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you either," she smiled, "Come on let's get home before something else goes wrong,"

I nodded and held her tight as we headed home to our little house, we had dinner and cuddled up cozy by the fire, my back against the sofa arm the book in my hand, her chin resting on my sternum as we cuddled up close with a blanket over our legs, her hat gone so I could play with her sweet Y/h/C hair,

"This meeting of the two parties proved highly Sat.. sati..."

"Sound it out," she reminded as she took my hand from her hair to hold it tight,

"Sat.. is.. fact.. ory.. satisfactory" I nodded,

"Perfect Jack," She smiled kissing my hand,

"and decided the whole business at once. Each lady was previously well disposed for an agreement, and saw nothing, therefore, but good manners in the other" I read,

"what is it?"

"No, I think I- and, with regard to the gentlemen, there was such a..."

"A?"

"uhhh.. Hurty?"

She peaked the book a little "hearty, Hearty good humour, Jack"

"Ohh... Hearty good humour such an open," I read, "Thank you, Y/n," I smiled kissing her head, "trusting lib- liberality.. liberality on the Admiral's side, as could not but influence Sir Walter," I read, "who had besides been flattered into his very best and most polished behaviour by Mr Shepherd's Ass- ass- asur- asuran-" I stumbled a little trying to figure this word out, "Little bird?"

"Let me see," she smiled having another peak, "Assurances,"

"Ahh, right... assurances of his being known, by report, to the Admiral, as a model of good breeding."

"You're getting better," She smiled,

"do I get a kiss?"

"You get a big kiss,"

"A big kiss? I did that well?"

"Yes you did," she smiled giving my lips a sweet kiss and I happily kissed her back cradling her in my arms, till we pulled back,

"So? thinking of breeding?"

"Something you're implying Jack?"

"Maybe,"

"Alright,"

"Yes! Let's go my little bird," I smirked setting the book down and tugging her upstairs to bed.

I headed out to the courtyard for a break, to get some air for a moment. Thinking of my plans for the day, even if I mostly just wanted to get home and get cuddled up with Y/n. She did say she was going to make a pie today... can I just... nip home for pie? surely no one will miss me if I just pop home for a slice of pie... Suddenly I heard a scream, that chilled my body to the core.

"Y/n!" I bolted up and out onto the street where I saw her in her emerald green dress covered in blood, her body on the road, screaming.

I ran to her side and looked at her overseeing her dress torn, her leg mangled, her face scared and scratched, "Oh- oh my god- Y/n! my sweet little bird!" I cried seeing her like this, "What happened? What the hell happened!" I yelled to the people at the market,

"A dog- he came out of nowhere. He attacked her." A woman said,

"Don't worry little bird. don't you worry. I'm going to get you inside, and get you looked after, I promise" I told her taking off my tie and grabbing her hat pin to use as a ternikit for her leg doing it as tight as possible to try and prevent the bleeding so I could get a look at the damage even if I could tell from her screaming and from just what little I could see it was bad.

The nurses heard the commotion and rushed out to help quickly getting her into the theatre, I rushed around getting everything I needed whenever I could I held her hand and kissed her head,

"Step aside dawkins, let me work." Doctor Sneed came through with a smirk rolling up his sleeves,

"Don't. You. Dare." I warn him as I hold Y/n in my arms, "Don't even think about it. YOU are not touching her. You are not touching MY WIFE. No one is performing surgery or even looking at my wife! I am doing this. No one else."

"Jack are you sure you-" Hetty began,

"I'm sure!" I yelled, "No one is doing this but me."

Sneed sighed and backed off so I held her tight and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips,

"You're gonna be okay Y/n, I promise everything is gonna be okay. I admit this is going to be the worst pain of your life but I promise you I am going to do absolutely anything I can to make sure you're going to be alright," I told her, "I love you so much, Y/n, my sweet little bird. your favourite memory take your mind there,"

She nodded fighting back her tears so I kissed her again before I grabbed my scalpel.

I held my breath but got to work doing my best to investigate the state of the damage, her leg had been ravished by the dogs attacks, and her bone shattered barely anything left of it, I did try and sew up the bleeding, I tried to sew and cut trying to save her leg but I knew the longer I waited the more obvious it became that I couldn't. And the longer I waited the more blood she lost and the higher the risk of infection and I couldn't listen to her screaming. I sighed and got the saw I needed and I saw the panic in her eyes.

"I... I'm sorry my love," I told her wiping the tears from my eyes,

She shook her head tears flooding down her face, I couldn't face her as I worked as fast as I could doing my best to make it as painless as possible, As I removed her leg as low as I could and sewed her up. "It's over. it's over. It's all over little bird. it's all okay, you're gonna be okay Y/n," I told her kissing her sweet head,

I came through into the room setting down some soup on the table before I sat down beside her bed, "Hello little bird, how are you feeling?"

She looked at me with tear-stained cheeks without saying a word,

"I know you're upset Y/n, but I - I had to do what was best. I couldn't save your leg. You know I would if I could."

"I know..." She nodded, "I know you... you had to jack it just an... adjustment."

"It will be little bird," I told her holding her hand tightly, "The phantom limb will fade in time, I've got Tim working on a prosthetic for you I've told him to take his time make it look pretty for you,"

"Thank you Jack, I'm so sorry I don't mean to seem ungrateful-"

"It's alright, it's a big adjustment" I reassured her, "After everything I'm not surprised you're stressed and upset,"

"I'm most certainly not eager to see any dogs,"

"Understandable Little bird," I laughed, "Well you have nothing to worry about I'm going to be here every step of the way, I'm going to hold your hand through all of it I promise,"

"Thank you," she smiled squeezing my hand back,

I arrived home but before I could even think I dropped my bag and rushed to the stairs where Y/n sat in tears,

"Y/n! Little bird what's the matter! Are you alright!"

"I- I was trying to go to the kitchen," She cried as I cradled her in my arms,

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"I- I didn't want to be a bother..."

"It's no trouble, Y/n you need help you're still getting used to this big change come on I'll help you up," I told her trying to help her to her foot but she only cried,

"I don't want to. Just leave me here..."

"I'm not just leaving you on the stairs, come on you got this far don't give up now let me help you back up and we'll get you down to the kitchen,"

"what's the point..."

"Y/n... you're not going to be okay again instantly, it's a big change, to need to learn to walk again, need to learn your balance again. I know it's hard, even seems impossible. But you have to keep trying my love." I told her, "Come on little bird, let's get you up and hopping like a little bunny down the stairs and I promise if you still can't walk when you get to the bottom I'll carry you the rest of the way," I told her kissing her head and helping her up her arm clutched to the bannister, I walked down to the bottom but stood ready to rush up and grab her if I nodded too, "Come on. I know you can do it."

She fought through her tears and hopped down the stairs one by one but lost her balance and tumbled down again so I quickly took her back into my arms as she burst into tears again,

"It's okay little bird, I'm still proud of you Y/n, you'll get it soon I know you will," I smiled kissing her and picking her up to carry her to the kitchen to look after her bruises,

I headed home and excitedly headed up to the bedroom where Y/n lay in bed her Y/h/C hair mattered and the covers were pulled up tightly, she hadn't been out of the bed much since leaving the hospital, luckily Prof was fairly accepting of me heading home on breaks to check up on her since being discharged, I had picked her up to take her down for dinner a few times but she was never happy about, I had yet to see her sweet lips smile since the amputation and I missed her smile so badly. She just sat up in bed all day with tear-stained cheeks, she hadn't been reading, or cooking or doing much of anything, she was a shell of herself and I felt terrible that I was the one to do this to her, it felt like... I cut out her soul when I cut off her leg.

"Ohh little bird?" I cooed,

"Hello Jack," She said her voice distant and vacant,

"How are you feeling?"

"... fine,"

"I have a gift for my lovely lady,"

"I'm not in the mood,"

"Are you sure? It's a really nice gift."

"Alright," She sighed,

"Behold, a beautiful leg for my beautiful wife," I smiled showing it off for her, "Tim got it working from a wooden manakin leg for you," I told her sitting on the bed, "Shall we give it a go then?"

"I don't know Jack..."

"Come on, For me little bird." I pleaded pulling a pouty face for her but not even that made her crack a smile,

"Alright," she nodded defeat in her voice,

"That's my girl," I smiled kissing her and pulling back the covers revealing her amputation she could barely look away tears slipping down her cheeks, "what's the matter?"

"I... I don't like looking at it."

"Why not? I think I did a pretty good job," I chuckled but she didn't laugh, "Y/n, why aren't you excited? You'll be able to walk around again? It'll take some getting used to."

"Jack." She spoke up, "I can't face looking at it, thinking about it... My body doesn't feel like me anymore."

"You really can't?"

"I can't. I feel like... I'm locked up in here. Like everything I knew is gone."

"Will you try? for me?"

"...I don't know If I can."

"I know... But you just need to embrace it, come on you know you can. You are a big strong girl. You just need to get back into the rhythm of things again" I told her as I pushed up her nightie and slipped on the prosthetic and gave it an adjustment to make sure it sat tight, "Awww look at you, you look very cute." I smiled kissing her,

"I'm a pirate."

"A pirate? Ohhh wooden leg... right? Well, you're a very beautiful Pirate." I told her giving her more kisses, "And trust me just walking around on a ship his hard enough when you do have two legs. If those dirty pirates can do that, I see no reason my little bird can't do it."

"I don't think I can... it... it feels foreign."

"It will do, you need to give it time is all, embrace it, and make it feel like you." I told her, "Come on you're a clever girl, what if... we paint the toes on it to make it match your outfits?" I suggested and she cracked a tiny smile across her lips, "What if we slip your stockings over it? hey? have it match the other in your cute little cotton and lace stockings?" I suggested stroking my hands up her wooden leg like I would her other being slow and seductive, "though I admit... you make it look too good I might not be able to keep my hands off," I smirked at her, "I'll end up stealing it while you're sleeping to cuddle with,"

"Jack!" she laughed,

"Maybe we can get some ink and give you some cool tattoos?"

"Jack! No" She smiled unable to stop laughing,

"No? I think you'd look beautiful," I smiled, "No matter what, I think you look beautiful Y/n,"

"You mean it?"

"Of course I do, You're my wife. My sweet little bird, no matter what I love you and think you are the most beautiful girl in the whole world,"

"Even with this?" she asked moving her leg a little

"Even with this." I nodded kissing her thigh,

I finished up on the ward and headed towards the prep room work ready for surgery, but I stopped short as I saw the door open in the entryway and I almost cried.

The door opened and Y/n came in her little boots on, her sweet sky blue and white dress, her little white gloves, her Y/h/C hair clean and soft with a little white hat, a wooden stick in her hand to aid her as she slowly walked with a little bit of a wobble but still graceful and poised as ever.

"Good Afternoon," she straightened herself up,

I just pulled her into my chest giving her a tight hug and a million kisses, "I love you so so much little bird,"

"I love you too Jack,"

"I'm so proud of you, really. I'm so so proud of you Y/n."

"Thank you, Jack, it's not easy but I'm getting the hang of it."

"I'm delighted to see you up and about again, you look so beautiful, it's so amazing to see you smile again,"

"Thank you," she blushed,

"I have surgery this afternoon, and then how about I walk my lovely little bird home?"

"That sounds lovely,"

"Alright, we just have to make sure you don't push yourself too hard,"

"If I get too tired would you carry me?"

"Of course I will little bird,"

"Perfect, if you're feeling up to it we could take a stroll by the water?"

"We'll see how I feel..." She nodded, "But either way we'll walk home together and we can make dinner,"

"Ohh? Pie?"

"Pie for dinner." she nodded, 

"I love you so much," I squeezed her kissing her cute little head, 

"I love you too," she smiled giving me a little kiss, "And its Tuesday, reading time and you're well behind given how many we've missed,"

"I suppose I am, okay. After dinner, we'll do some reading." I nodded "Come on you can come cozy up in the prep room with me." I smiled holding her hand and leading her slowly with me,