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youngtacoes · 2 days

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Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #fallout reader #fallout fanfic #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout smut

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buddiebeginz · 3 days

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Okay everyone listen to me Tim posting a B/T video (if he even did because his FB is private and people are saying he posted it but took it down) does not mean he’s saying Buddie is a no go and T*mmy is Buck’s endgame.

First of all let’s remember that Tim wanted to do Buck’s bi storyline years ago particularly back in season 4 and this was likely going to lead to Buddie (look at how the shooting arc was handled).

Second so much of this season has been geared towards Buddie. We had a lot of joint interviews with Ryan and Oliver (more than ever before). We’ve had Buddie talked about in pretty much every interview Oliver and Ryan have done both together and separately this season. This is not something that happened (to this extent) previously, it’s clear Fox did not really want them talking about Buddie. Also remember that if Buddie wasn’t happening and if Tim and ABC didn’t want them talking about Buddie they wouldn’t be allowing these kinds of questions over and over again. They would answer the Buddie question once or twice and that would be the end of it. Everyone knows how much people ship Buddie especially Tim. I'm positive he knows it would be really stupid to keep bringing it up if he wanted the subject to die down.

More importantly let’s look at how this season has gone we’ve had Buck and Eddie together more than ever. Tim even explicitly stated he was trying to put Buddie scenes in almost every episode. Look at how he answered that person about the karaoke scene. Tim basically said he was a Buddie shipper too.

Also think about this Tim knew he was going to have Buck come out and naturally it stands to reason that when it happened people were going to speculate more than ever about Buddie. If Tim has no intention of making Buddie happen and if his long term goal has been to put Buck with T*mmy as Buck's forever love interest (Like Bathena and Madney) wouldn't he have handled this season differently?

I'm not saying Buck and Eddie wouldn't have scenes together if the plan is never for them to be a couple, obviously not they're best friends but I do think Tim would have been extra careful with this being the first season Buck is out as as a bi character. Yet like I said we've had Buddie together more than ever. We've had them talking about sexual tension, dressing in couples costumes (when the actual pair that is dating didn't), singing karaoke together (even if most of it got cut), Buck talking about Eddie's cologne, Buck being a parental figure to Chris, Buck coming out to Eddie in a private quiet scene (when he only had two coming out talks this season), a buddie hug when we haven't had one for years, Buck talking about how he wished he could help Eddie when Eddie was talking about being sexually frustrated.

Most importantly though and what really seals the deal for me on why I think Buddie is happening is that Buck's entire bi awakening episode was focused very heavily on Eddie. Buck was NOT jealous that Eddie was getting to spend time with T*mmy in that episode (i.e. jealous because he wanted to spend time with T*mmy) he was jealous because Eddie was spending so much time and sharing parts of himself with someone else. He was jealous of T*mmy getting to spend time with Eddie and felt like he was being replaced. He thought him and Eddie had something special but then he sees the connection Eddie so easily formed with T*mmy and it hurt him.

We just haven't (as of yet) seen Buck really be willing to dig deeper to understand what he was truly feeling during all of that. How it was all about Eddie and not T*mmy. At this point all Buck knows is that T*mmy kissed him and Buck realized oh I like guys and he's reveling in the newness of all of that. At some point though he's going to realize none of this was ever about T*mmy and that even the main things drawing him to T*mmy were because of his similarities to Eddie. (I wrote a whole post about this episode btw)

But back to my point and that's why would Tim make a whole episode about how Buck obviously has feelings for Eddie and make it in the same episode where the audience (especially the general audience) realizes that Buck isn't straight? Why do that if Buddie isn't in the plans? If Tim's goal is B/T he still could have had something with Buck being jealous. What if T*mmy was hanging out with Chim and the rest of the 118 and he started being friends with all of them. They could have had it where Buck felt threatened kind of like he did in season 2 with Eddie but what it really was about was that Buck liked T*mmy and didn't know how to express that. What I'm saying is that Tim wasn't backed into a corner with this bi Buck storyline and T*mmy there were so many different ways he could have told it. He chose to tell it where it revolved very heavily around Eddie. Buck was even talking about Eddie right before and after he kissed T*mmy what exactly are we supposed to take away from that?

I know B/T stans like to say we just see what we want to see but decisions like having Eddie feature so heavily in Buck's coming out ep aren't made on a whim these are very deliberate especially when the powers that be know how much people ship these characters. Very specific choices have been made to tell a story with Buck and Eddie this season that is leading them towards the same goal and that's eventually together. If you're not seeing that it's because you don't want to.

There's also the fact that if B/T is the ship we're supposed to be rooting for if it's the ship that's going to be as big to 911 as Bathena and Madney (at least according to B/T fans) why has there been so little focus on them? I know some people might say it's a shorter season and they already have so much to fit. Or that they're trying to go slow with B/T's story but here's the thing they rushed into having Buck come out to the audience in one episode and then rushed into having him come out to all the other characters a couple of episodes after that. If Tim wanted more focus on B/T there would be. They also wouldn't even have to do much with them. We've barely even seen them have an actual conversation and the few times we have most of it has been when there has been some kind of uncomfortableness or annoyance between them. Like when Buck was full of anxiety during the date (and then T*mmy made that closet joke) or when Buck was upset about T*mmy not dressing up and T*mmy seemed annoyed.

I don't know I've watched a ton of different shows and to me this doesn't feel like how you build a ship you want the audience to root for. And I'm not saying that you can't have two people at odds and then have them get together. I love a good enemies to lovers thing but that's not what this is. To me the show is trying to tell us that Buck and T*mmy have an attraction but they really aren't on the same wavelength in other areas. Plus the show is always having Buck either talking about Eddie or having Eddie show up. Like when Buck came out to Maddie and was more concerned about lying to Eddie than his date going bad. We had Maddie literally Telling Buck if he had something to tell Eddie he'd tell him in his own time. What am I supposed to think about a line like that? Or when you had Eddie there during the whole scene with B/T at the karaoke bar or how the scene immediately cut from the B/T hospital kiss to Eddie. Plus we haven't even had a mention of T*mmy since 7x06 and now we're going into the finale. You'd think that they would have at least had Buck mention T*mmy during that date night scene where Buck was watching Chris for Eddie but no instead we had Buck being rather flirty with Eddie talking about his cologne and throwing popcorn into his mouth.

Now let's look at this video. There’s a high probability Tim didn’t even watch it. It’s long and not good in my opinion (I saw it before today). B/T stans call us delusional but they’re yelling about how Tim must believe in this bs invisible string theory they came up with and because it’s mentioned in that video. But here’s what the cover looks like

And this is why I think Tim posted it (if he even did) because it’s not about what’s in the video it’s about the title.

Has 911 found Buck’s perfect match?

This is what Tim wants us thinking about going into the finale. Is T*mmy the perfect match for Buck? Some like to think so but we know there is someone better and Buck is going to realize that.

No matter what happens with Buck and T*mmy at the end of this season and even if they're still together going into season 8 I 100% don't believe that T*mmy is meant to be Buck's endgame. Buck is for all intents and purposes the shows main character. We were basically introduced to the show through him we've watched him have the most growth, tim is not going to give him some lackluster love story.

Most primetime shows have a couple that the audience can root for. A couple where the audience isn't sure if they're going to get together but everything happening with them makes you want to see it happen so it keeps the audience tuning in waiting for the day it finally does. 911 had that for a long time with Madney before they got together and then later when they broke up and got back together. But now that they and all the main couples are happily married and rather settled 911 has no main couple like that not one that will garner media and audience attention, except oh wait they do it's Buddie. If B/T were going to be the couple they were betting on we would have had at least one Oliver and Lou on screen interview by now talking about them and we haven't. We definitely would have had more press promoting the couple but we haven't. The focus like I said before is on Buddie. The focus in the episodes is towards Buddie, the focus in the media, it's all a bright neon flashing sign that says BUDDIE. Nothing is pointing towards B/T in actuality I think Buck and Taylor may have even had more press than B/T has gotten so do with that information what you will.

I know a lot of you will hear about Tim posting this and think that's it Buddie is dead in the water but it's just not true. We are closer than ever to Buddie happening I promise you. We just have to be patient and let the story play out. Please don't pay attention to all the negativity coming from that other ship in fandom. Block as much as you need to so you can keep your peace. The best thing you can do right now is to show your love for Buddie as much as possible. Make sure you're tweeting about Buddie, leaving comments about Buddie on 911's official accounts (on ig YT tiktok etc), making new posts and graphics about Buddie on tumblr. We need to continue to be a loud (respectful) presence online and to remind everyone that we won't give up on Buddie.

Sending love to all of you ❤️

And remember:

#buddie #911 buddie #buck x eddie #tim minear #911 abc #911!#long post

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brailsthesmolgurl · 1 day

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PUPPY LOVE?

Preview: You had always been the apple to their eyes. How would they express their affection towards you in highschool?

Warnings: I had to make it slight-slight-slight angsty hehe, teeth-rotting fluff for comfort for my beloved readers <3 btw readers and the boys are highschool kids in this one-shot so no suggestive or anything!

P.S: This idea came to me in the middle of the night and I knew I had to burn the midnight fuel to squeeze all of my brain juice for this piece :> Enjoyyy!

RAFAYEL

You lifted your head up when you heard a chair dragged against the tiled flooring. It came to a halt and down sat the lilac haired fellow, right in front of you, his chin propped on the back of his hand as he leaned down to look at you, a smirk hung on his thin lips. Rafayel. "Someone looked like they had a nightmare yesterday."

"It's none of your business." You furrowed your eyebrows, gaze turned towards the classroom door. More classmates are starting to walk in, greeting each other good mornings and immediately getting into their daily routines of catching up or gossiping. You, on the other hand, do not really belong to any 'gangs'. You find solace within your own bubble and occasionally, do hang out with your only friend, Tara.

The purple haired individual in front of you frowned, your answer unappealing to his taste. This young man sitting in front of you is the lucky charm of your school, and almost everyone dotes on him, headmaster, teachers and students alike. Both of his parents are renowned artists, comparable to Van Gogh and many other artists throughout history books and as expected, Rafayel inherited the same talent as his parents. Rich, handsome, charming and talented, he is basically a girl magnet.

"You do not have to be so rude you know." He stood up when he heard his name being called. Reaching into the pockets of his blazer, he took out two cheese sticks and placed it onto your table. "Here, have this. Your frown makes you look like a shriveled up prune. Some cheese sticks would probably do well for you." He chuckled teasingly and stepped out of your personal bubble, heading out of the classroom.

If glares could kill, you would probably be laying on the floor motionless by now. The cheese sticks that sat at your table were attracting unwanted attention from the girls in your class. You had absolutely no idea why Rafayel would always approach you. The attention you are receiving from him does not beat the attention other girls are getting as well, not that you cared but you just find it odd. A lone girl getting so much attention from the school's celebrity, what would the others think of it? Maybe he is just trying to be friendly. That always remains the reason to your question.

Here comes the other question. You do not think you like him, but why does your heart flutter whenever he is near you? Bidding you good morning and goodbye had became a part of a routine for the both of you. Why would your heartstrings tug whenever you find another girl initiating skinship with him? Why?

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Rinnnggggg. The bell rung, indicating the end of another school day. Students rushed out like ants out of the school premises, flooding the empty hallways. You packed your things, eyeing the time displayed by the clock. 3pm. It is the perfect time for you to go to the art room to practice some drawing. You may not be an artist like the talented Rafayel, but you still do have your own fascination towards drawing and sketching.

You walked in the direction opposite of the flow, passing through the crowd like a fish trying to swim upstream. As you were nearing the art room, someone knocked you over and you fell backwards, with your bagpack being your cushion as you landed back first onto the floor. You still winced upon impact. "Oh look, it's Rafy's pet." The girl that knocked you over crossed her arms, her blond curls tied up in a high ponytail. Oh, it's the school's flower girl, Jarianne, but you guessed it. She is nowhere carrying the aura of a flower.

Sighing, you pushed yourself off of your back, not even having the thought to fight back. "Know your place would you?" Jarianne spoke, studying her oval shaped painted nails. "Rafy might give you cheese sticks every once in a while, but that does not mean anything. Don't get your hopes up, okay sweetie?" Huffing a smile, the mean girl strutted off, leaving you calculating your next steps.

Shrouded with anger, you got up and made your way towards the art room. You are ready to splash some paint onto the canvas, wanting to express your anger in a much more 'healthier' form. She was right. Who are you to be engaged with Rafayel. Someone who is a loner like you should not be in any way associated with someone of such a high status like him. You are halfway at being disappointed at yourself until you slide the door opened and you saw Rafayel in the art room.

He looked ethereal, basked in the warm light of the sun in the midst of a cloudy afternoon, his lilac hair slightly tousled on his head. His back was facing you, but you could tell with the way his paintbrush moved across the canvas with grand gestures, he is painting yet another masterpiece. Part of his uniform, the dark blue blazer and white collared shirt was messily tossed onto one of the desks nearby, and he is left in his black t-shirt. Right when you are about to leave, his head snapped around and he caught sight of you standing in the doorway with beady eyes. "Finally, you're here." Framing himself to be waiting for you this whole time. Well, he was.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." You consciously tucked a stray strand of your brunette curls behind your ear, your face immediately turning red when you realised that you may have taken a bit longer then usual to be staring at the young man. "I'm gonna go." You turned and immediately started jogging down the hallway.

"Wait! Wait!" Rafayel called out for you, yet, you did not bother to turn back. All you could hear was the sounds of chairs creaking and a loud thud, followed by hurried footsteps.

You turned a corner and slid yourself into an empty classroom to catch your breath. When you sat yourself down, the door slid right open and Rafayel presented himself, huffing and panting as he bent himself down to slow his breaths. You were shocked of course, that he would run down the halls for you. Jarianne's words rang through your head like an alarm and it filled you with more regrets.

"You should stop talking to me." You clenched your fist, standing up, getting ready to leave. "We are not friends to begin with, so we should keep it that way." When you walked past him, he gripped your wrist and you gasped in response. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Do you actually..." He took in a huge breath and straightened his posture, now eyes meeting yours. "Are you actually so naive?"

"Look, I don't know what you are trying to do Rafayel, but I am not interested in whatever you are going to say. Just leave me alone." You pulled your wrist out of his grip but it only prompted him to hold your wrist tighter. "Leave me be!"

You slipped, and he grabbed you by your waist, underestimating the strength of his before he stumbled backwards and you ended up pressing him against the wall. The both of you had the same expression, widened eyes and flushed cheeks. Tension immediately started pumping into the air, causing your body to tense up. "Are you upset?" He broke the silence between you two, leaning down closer to you to inspect your face. "I had never seen you getting so mad before."

MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. A part of you do like him, you liked that he would only greet you in the morning and when you leave home, you liked that he would offer to teach you art anytime you wish, you liked that sometimes he would ditch his friends just to come and sit with you during recess. But, Jarianne was right. You always have this part of you that refused to accept the fact that you do indeed, like Rafayel. Just like all of the other girls out there. It's just that you are nothing special at all. You will be regarded as any other fan girl of his.

Hesitation laced in your voice. "I just don't think someone like you should be spending time with someone like me Rafayel." Your gaze dropped, feet shuffled against the floor beneath, watching the dust particles flying up into the air.

He clicked his tongue, but remained still. "You have not answered my question. Why do you think I go out of my way to talk to you everyday hmm?" Your silence was met with the continuation of his thoughts. "That's because I like you, y/n."

Your breath hitched in your throat when he confessed to you and you nervously took a step back to put more space in between the both of you. "Don't." His arms snaked around your waist and he reeled you in, nose tips almost touching. It took you a while to only realise that Rafayel is red like a tomato, the confession of his happen to be genuine afterall. His blushing expression is a sight to behold. Just like in a watercolour painting, all of the colours are harmonised, his purplish, tousled soft curls that sat on top of his head framed the outline of his carved facial shape well, with scarlet red lightly dabbed across his pale cheeks, giving the illusion of his eyes sticking out like magenta gemstones on a iridescent rubicund-white marble complexion. "I really do like you y/n."

"Why?" That is the only question you can mutter out of your mouth. You sounded dumb for a second but you would like to find out what he deemed special about you.

You can sense his nervousness when his eyes started darting everywhere and his arms withdrew from your waist. "I...You're...Uhm..." He is clearly struggling with his words. "You are different. You do not find the need to please me or to catch my attention." His words were spoken slowly and precisely, calculated even. "I like you because of the way you are, y/n. You are not like the other girls. Sometimes, when I look at you, I wanted to sketch a drawing of you, but I couldn't, because that's how alluring you are to me. No drawings could achieve that."

The way he phrased his affection towards you, was nothing of confidence but only of his vulnerability. Five years throughout his secondary days, you always regarded him to be the embodiment of confidence, carrying himself well has always been a gestalt of his. But today, you do not find that in him, all you see is this young man stumbling over every single word, self-doubt equivalent to yours hinted in his tone. He does not see himself to be worthy of you, just like you do not think you are worthy to him. The thought of it ached your heart.

"Rafayel. I...I never knew you liked me." Reaching your hands up, you patted his shoulders awkwardly, not really knowing where to position your hands. "I thought you just wanted to tease me and push me around like a plaything."

"The audacity to say that." He scoffed, face scrunched up like a shriveled prune he had mentioned to you earlier. "I don't like keeping the people I like as pets or any derogatory words you may think of, you know?" The sight of you holding onto his shoulders, eyes widened made him smile, one of his hand lightly patting the top of your head. Rafayel notices the way your lips would wobble the slightest when you tried to alleviate your own anxiety, convincing him further that you do possess the same feelings as him. He only has to figure out how to make you believe that he is not messing with your feelings and how to not escalate this sweet moment into a dramatic and awkward mess. "I don't want you to be accusing me of something so lowly anymore, yeah? Promise me?"

"But... what would people say when they see..." You gestured between the two of you, head already coming up with all sorts of accusations that would be thrown towards the both of you. "Us together? I don't want to trouble you..."

"They can say anything, but we can treat it as nothing y/n." He ran his hand down to your cheek, cupping your small face in his palm now, your face slowly warming up in his palm. "In the end, I chose you. It is only right for them to be jealous." He smiled leisurely, confidence resurfacing again. "So, would you date me y/n?"

Gnawing onto your lip, you nodded your head and looked down. You had only seen this in romance shows, where lip kisses are supposed to happen after confessions do. But you felt his soft lips collided against your forehead and your heart released sparks of fire uncontrollably. You are screaming internally as if you had won the lottery. As he pulled back, you raised your head up to glance at his facial features. Rafayel is beaming, hand still placed on the side of your cheek. As if it was cued, he managed to answer your question before you could even ask. "I will not kiss your lips until you allow me to, yeah? I will always wait until you're ready, as I respect---"

Wrong question, but does not beat the fact it was relevant to what you were initially going to ask him. Something along the lines of ‘whether are we going in for the kiss’. You decided to act upon your decision. Closing the short distance between you two, you planted your lips onto his, swallowing his uncertainty to fuel your bravery for the upcoming challenges you will have to face for being Rafayel's girl.

ZAYNE

"So, for this experiment, find someone you can pair up with to write a report based on your findings." Miss Akko instructed, placing the chalk onto her large wooden desk and scanning the crowd for any blank slates. "If you have any questions, you can always come and find me for consultations."

You looked towards the guy sitting next to you, Zayne. Ballpoint pen held in between his long fingers, gliding swiftly against the paper to create a neat yet slanted handwriting. Altough the class had ended, you could tell that he is still very much in his zone, jotting down whatever the teacher had mentioned earlier. If he could record it, you believe that would be the most viable way for him to stay on top of his grades all of the time. His posture relaxed when the last bell of the day rung. "Hey." You called out to him and he turned his head to face you. "Would you like to pair up? For the experiment?"

You had paired up with him for a few times for chemistry class. Being with the smartest kid does earn you a few perks, but he is not much of a talker so sometimes doing assignments with him would result in a crow-cawing awkwardness. "Sure." He nodded his head once and started gathering his reading materials into a pile while standing up.

Zayne has always been a man of a few words. Nodding is his most useful reaction whenever you ask him of something that he is borderline interested in. But if he does not agree with you, then he shall give you the stare that would make you question yourself about the absence of an answer from him. "When do you plan to do---"

"I will see you after class tomorrow." He cut you off, zipping his bag up and pulling it over his broad shoulders effortlessly. "Remember to bring your brain." OOF, COLD. It most likely explains why nobody would usually pair up with Zayne. More like he just refuses to.

Zayne was best known for his good looks and big brain but other than that, he does not have an appealing personality that makes him desirable among girls. Good to admire from afar but not good to interact with. Ever heard of the trend 'He is a 10 but...' . Yeah, that is Zayne's title trend. Only to people who has been in close contact with him. Yeah, he could be a dick with how straightforward he is but you find it as an admirable trait of his. He stabs people with his words, with truths that nobody would dare to say and maybe, you do secretly like him for the way he is.

“Come on Zayne, it’s not like I don’t study or help out with the reports for the past few times.” You rebutted, palms faced upwards and eyebrows knitted closely together. Zayne stood in his spot, expressionless face hiding his amusement. “So I do have a brain!”

He turned towards the direction of the door and started making his way out, not without giving his last statement. “Says the one who can’t even score a decent C grade.” There you stood, in the empty classroom, choked onto the curse words that you were about to throw at him when you heard his statement but you are sure with his lanky legs, he would have been out of earshot by now.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

TAP TAP TAP TAP… Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, reverberating through the empty classrooms. You were late for the meeting with Zayne because you had forgotten to bring your lunch to school today so you ended up having to run down to the vending machine to grab some quick bites. The machine however, betrayed your trust, the ultimate cliche move anyone can think of putting into a filler clip for a movie, when the snack gets stuck during the retrieving period purely because of the vending machine error. You could have easily gotten in trouble if anyone were to spot you with your whole arm shoved into the machine just to grab the item you had literally paid for.

The door slammed open with force and you were greeted with the sight of Zayne in the classroom. With a girl bent halfway down right next to him. You recognised her immediately, the long blond hair with forest green eyes, milky pale skin with a smile that could make anyone faint upon seeing it. She is the school’s student president, Nyla. The both of them perked their heads up, reacting to the sound of the door being slammed opened only to see you standing in the doorway, face flushed from the heat, holding onto your snacks in your hand. “Hey y/n.” The student president grinned, her pearly whites nearly blinded you. “Do you mind giving us some time? We have some personal matters to settle.” Not only does she look pretty, she has a pleasing attitude too? Just great. Pursing your lips, you nodded and went out the same way you came in, sliding the door closed behind you in a more polite manner this time.

“I still can’t believe that you are working on an assignment with her.” Nyla huffed, pushing her hair back with her fingers as she bent down next to Zayne again, staring at his notebook. Nyla had initially wanted to meet up with Zayne regarding the discussion for the upcoming school festival that will be held but eventually, she turned it into her personal chat session with Zayne. “Is she a freeloader most of the time?”

“No.” Zayne replied. “She does her part as I do for mine.” Zayne, at this point had already caught note on what Nyla is trying to do. Provoking a conversation out of him when he is late for the initial assignment arrangement with you bothers him. “I think you had already gotten all of the answers you needed for the school festival.”

“But, I would like to get to know you too.” Nyla sat herself onto the side of his desk, manicured fingers fanned herself in an attempt to cool herself down. “Say, how about we try to go out for a little bit hmm?”

The raven haired young man did not even spared her a glance, eyes focused on his handwritings. “Zayne, come on. Smarty pants with a cute face like you dating me would be the talk of the school for weeks to come.” The pitch of her voice heightens at the end of her sentence and Zayne sighed in frustration. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and exhaled.

“I am not interested in being your pawn.” He glanced at her and her smile faltered, alongside her confidence. “Nor do I find the necessity to feed into the delusions of yours.” The indifference shown on his body language gave her the conclusion she did not expected from him. Her pretentious ‘girl-next-door’ attitude no longer on display. The anger of a spoiled child who gets whatever they want seeped through and she raised her palm, ready to land it onto his cheek but he caught it right before it touches his cheek. “I wouldn’t do it to someone who believes in gender equality.”

Nyla withdrew her hand, strings of curse words falling out of her lips as to save herself from embarrassment and she left the classroom. The young man sat in the room, staring at the new page he had just flipped over on his notebook and he noticed the drawing of a stick man next to the page number. The stick man appeared to be holding onto the number 6 like a hockey stick and the 0 being reimagined as a puck. His lips pulled into a small smile, flashing back to the time when you tried to be sneaky when he was out of the classroom during one of your past assignment pairings, conducting this tomfoolery on his notebook and quickly returning everything back to its original position. But he saw it all, from the crack of the door when he was about to enter the empty classroom. He finds your childlike behaviour amusing after all.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“We are done talking.” You stared up, the blinding sunlight immediately getting shielded by Zayne’s opaque outline. You squinted your eyes narrower only to find that Zayne has his hand stretched out to you, given you are in a seated position. “We should get started on our assignment.” You took his hand and he pulled you up, the sheer size of his palm wrapped around your whole hand easily.

“Here.” You reached your hand into the pocket of your uniform and pulled out a small box of chocolate cookies. “This is for you. It fell out when I was trying to grapple for my sandwich.”

Zayne took the box into his hands, contemplating on the way you got it. “Did the vending machine got stuck again?” Your nod made him smiled a little. “If it gets stuck again next time, you can just ask me to get it for you.”

His sudden suggestion nearly made you choked on the last bite of your egg and cheese sandwich. It is hard to believe he would come out all of the way here to find you, let alone making small talk and telling you that you can ask him to solve your troubles whenever you please? But your dumb brain only believe that he was only trying to be helpful and he is merely thanking you for bringing him a snack. “So what did you guys talk about?” You could not help but to ask as the both of you slowed down your steps to be in sync with one another.

“She wanted me to go out on a date with her.” You were lucky you had finished your sandwich, or else this sentence would have sent you into full on choking mode. You did expect Nyla to ask him out to a certain extent given his popularity, but you were caught off guard that he was even willing to share the details about what had went on behind those closed doors earlier. “I told her that there is not a need to waste her time.”

Hm? You stopped in your footsteps and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” Your lips had blurted out the sentence before your mind is in control and you swallowed the instant regret of the question. Zayne too, stopped in his footsteps and he looked at you, his hazel green orbs stood out more like a lush forest under the blazing sun above your head. When he took a step towards you, your heart lurched, eyes scanning the surroundings for anyone present.

“I already have someone on my mind.” Zayne closed the distance between the both of you. Within arms length, Zayne reached his right hand outwards and held your cheek. An immediate gasp could be heard, the pace of your heartbeat quickened, so as your breath. You could hear your own heartbeat in your head. It does not take a genius for one to unravel who he likes. You stood in front of him, drinking in his gaze that had softened for one of the very few times, and this time he did not snap his head away immediately. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek, soothing the spreading redness that is a result of your realisation regarding his point.

Your eyes lit up and your jaw slacked, eyes frantically searching for a joke within his eyes but when you found no ill intention, you amounted to satisfy your curiosity. “Why…why me?”

His thumb slid down to your jawline, and stopped at your chin. Raising it up just enough for his eyes to be looking into yours and you gulped nervously when he closed the distance between the both of you. He smiled, lips tugged up slightly on both corners because all these while, he knew that the both of you have the same feelings for one another, but he just never really have the opportunity to be alone with you, till now. "You will find out soon enough." Leaning down, Zayne pressed his lips softly against yours to present his confession to you, stealing your first kiss away.

XAVIER

The countdown in your head never fails you. When the minute hand hits 12 on the clock, the bell rung, the teacher looked up from the book he was holding, glasses slid down his nose slightly as he realised his class period had came to an end. "Remember your homework kids. I will see you next week." He announced as the students all got up in sync, bowing and thanking the teacher for his teaching efforts.

As you landed your bum back onto your chair, you heard someone calling your name and your head turned towards the source of the sound. The blond bloke named Xavier sauntered over to you, his eyelids still half closed. "Hey, you going over for the fencing extracurricular later?"

"Yeah I am. Why?" You asked him nonchalantly, all while clearing your items off of the table and placing them into your bagpack. When you do not hear his response, your hands rested on your bag and you looked up at him, squinting your eyes. "Wait. You plan to skip it don't you?"

Xavier's eyes widened and his light eyebrows arched upwards. "What, no. I just..." His right hand reached up to rub the nape of his neck. "I just thought we could walk there together if you'd like."

Sighing in relief you smiled and nodded, pulling your bagpack over your back. You had forgotten to arrange the books you have to bring today hence the load of your bag became a deadweight and it nearly sent you rolling onto the ground. Xavier caught you on time before your face gets planted onto the tiled ground. "Careful. Here, let me help."

"Thanks." The blond young man easily took your bagpack off of your back, slinging it over the side of his shoulder that has his messenger bag hung onto. With the weight of fingerpads pressed against your arm, you flushed red when you realised that he had not released his hold on you. Catching your sight, he trailed it down to your arm and he released his grip, equally embarassed at how long the skinship lasted.

Truth is, you and Xavier are somewhat at the level of best friends. The both of you share the same classes and same taste for food, alongside same extra curricular activities. But recently, you started feeling more and more abashed around him. You would consciously want to look good in front of him; either it be tucking your hair behind your ears, chuckling gently instead of laughing like a troll, ironing your clothes to make it look pressed and neat. You are like becoming a whole different person just for him. But it is not necessarily for the bad.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Clank, Clink, Clank Clank. The sounds of the blades grinding against one another created screeches and clinking, which are not the right music for the ears. You sat a couple of meters away from the mat, eyeing Xavier clad in the metallic polyester jacket that is overlain with a thin, interwoven steel strands in between to provide him protection. Lamés is the right term for the protective gear on his torso. Gasps and mutters could be heard echoing in the huge hall, judgements and commentaries thrown around as the showdown between Xavier and his opponent has been relatively entertaining.

The whole nine minutes, both of the fencers has been extremely aggressive, parrying and lunging against one another whenever an opening is spotted. The race to land 15 touches on the opponent make it an extremely fast and deft sport. The both of them had equated to 14 touches each and this last touch would determine the winner. The referee stood in middle, arms raised midway to insinuate the start of the tie-breaker round. "Pret? Allez!"

The blades then ensued, waving in the air. "Halt." It was called out in two seconds and both of the opponents backed up, standing still in their spots. Your heartbeat thumped, the last you saw was the both of their blades touched both of their respective opponent's foil. It is hard to determine who is the winner. The referee was seen walking over to Xavier and he spoke. "Parrying then riposte, point-in-line is perfect and that forward extension of yours is worth the risk." He grabbed Xavier's arm and raised it, everyone in the hall cheered as Xavier removed his headgear and grinned, eyes landing onto you.

You smiled back, proud that he had manage to win the competition. You stood up when he walked off of the platform, wanting to congratulate him but Chiara beat you to it. "Xavier! You did so well!" The girl bounced over, her curls bounced to her footsteps' rhythm as well. "Oh my god, that was such a fight."

"Thanks." Xavier smiled and she grabbed him by his neck, throwing herself into his arms and you were stunned at her boldness. Xavier however, did not seem fazed as his arms raised up to pat her back. Chiara may just be an amiable individual but your mind abnegated that possibility and only opened its chamber doors to jealousy.

In a disconsolate, nervous manner, you turned and proceeded to walk out of the hall. Your heart thumped hard against your chest like booming speakers in an EDM concert. It also caused a lump to form in your throat. It hurts. Something about her just greeting and hugging him so casually made her wonder why did he never told you about his girlfriend before? He is already mysterious enough but at this point, it felt like a betrayal to you. But then again, he does not owe you that favour to tell you about his dating life if he does not wish to say anything.

Finding a cosy corner next to the herb garden that belonged to the Plant Society, you sat down at the side of the curb and amused yourself with the view of butterflies twirling around blooming flower petals. Amongst the weeds, Magnolia blossoms are most of the denizens found within the small patch of ground. Time passed by, perhaps around a couple of minutes and you heard hurried footsteps in the background but you were too engrossed with the butterfly landing onto a magnolia's carpels that you did not bother to turn around.

"Y/n." Xavier called out. "I had been searching everywhere for you." You turned your head slowly, stopping with only half of your face visible to him. "Did you noticed me winning just now?" "Yeah I did." You pushed yourself off of the curb, dusting the dirt off of your dark skirt and you faced him, gaze catching his chest rather than his cerulean orbs. "In fact, I saw Chiara went up to hug you." Your pout although not shown, it was obvious to Xavier. You are jealous.

He stepped forward and wrapped his lanky arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You were bewildered. In his arms, feeling his warmth spreading to your body and his scent swathed you, he smells like clean sheets and a bubble bath. Perhaps from his change of clothes. "I'm sorry." He spoke, breath batting against the nape of your neck. "I should have rejected her hug right then and there."

"It's okay Xavier, I didn't know you have a girlfriend." You were quick to address your hesitation, ready to take a step back from him but his hold around you tightened, not allowing you to leave his arms.

"She isn't. She isn't my girlfriend, y/n." He slowly pulled back, arms now moved to rest on your shoulder. For a moment, a gleam of wary was ready to surface but Xavier was quick to put out that emotion of his. "I don't think of her anything more than a friend. Unlike you."

Confusion clouded you like a misty apparition above your head. "What about me?" Your index finger pointed towards yourself. "What do you mean by 'unlike me'."

"I like you." His gaze unwavering, genuine intentions full on display. "I had liked you for a very long time y/n." Your jaw dropped to the ground almost instantly. You were not expecting this to happen at all but look at how fate has presented itself. Xavier smiled, his angelic smile akin to his divine features. He would have been mistaken to be an angel if you did not know that the halo around his head is the sun peeking out from the back of his head. “And I think I would very much like you to be my girlfriend instead of her.”

Your eyelids blinked rapidly, eyelashes just a few more blinks away to cool down the redness in your cheeks. As a reflex, your hands flew up to your mouth to mask your excitement, your lips probably pulled into a grin that stretches to both ears. “I…I…” Your stammering further betrayed your feelings and Xavier leaned down, supple hands held onto your wrist and he pulled your hands down, finally being able to see your shyful expression.

“Seeing you like this makes me very happy y/n.” He cupped your cheeks softly, tediously brushing the pads of his thumb across your cheek and he leaned in, planting a kiss onto your lips to officially make you his girlfriend.

Hope this fluff makes your day my lovelies! <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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rainyreading · 15 hours

Note

Hey! I love your Theo fics and I was wondering if I could request a Theo x Hufflepuff, granddaughter of Newt Scamander reader? I think it could be cute!

Maybe he notices her one day minding her business, and one of his friends calls her weird for the same reasons Newt was called weird in school? Whatever you like! thank you!

Weird

Theo Nott x Hufflepuff!reader

wc: 950

a/n: Sorry this took so long! Hope it’s ok.

Requests open

Theo was in the library with his friends. He wasn’t doing any work of course because he was distracted talking with his friends. They were talking about the quidditch match that took place yesterday.

Theo quickly glanced around the library and his eyes landed on you. You were sitting there reading minding your own business. Theo thought you were pretty. He admired your beauty. He thought you were so cute and loved how you weren’t bothered by others.

Draco caught sight of Theo looking at you. He decided to speak up. “You know that’s Y/L/N, she’s weird. She talks to animals and what not. I’d stay away from her if I were you,” Draco warned.

“Maybe she’s just misunderstood,” Theo reasoned.

“Nah mate i’d listen to Draco, she’s a freak,” Blaise commented.

“You guys are mean,” Theo responded.

“Trust us, we would never steer you wrong,” Draco threw an arm around Theo.

“Ok ok I get it,” Theo put a stop to their conversation.

“We are just looking out for you,” Draco explained.

“Yeah yeah i know, let’s drop it please.” Theo grumbled.

Theo and his friends continued hanging out in the library for a little while longer. Theo however was busy thinking about you. He couldn’t get you off his mind. You intrigued him.

After Theo’s friends left he decided to go up and talk to you, despite what his friends told him. You were minding your own business, reading your book.

“Mind of I sit here?” Theo asked.

“Um sure go head,” you replied. You were shy and a little nervous but he seemed nice.

“You’re really pretty you know that,” Theo charmed.

You blushed at his words. You didn’t think anyone noticed you.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Theo,” he said with a smile.

“I’m Y/N.” You stuck your hand out for him to shake, which he did.

“I’ve seen you around school, I’ve always wanted to say hi,” Theo began.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was always too nervous, and now I just thought hey, it’s worth a shot.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” you answered.

“Me too.”

“So what are you reading?” Theo asked.

“Oh this? I’m just reading about the care of magical creatures.”

“Interesting!”

“Really? Cause I find it fascinating.”

And maybe it was the way your eyes lit up or the smile on your face but Theo could have sworn he died and gone to heaven. You were simply stunning and so lively. He liked to look at you when there was a spark of joy in you.

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like to have a picnic at the black lake with me tomorrow?” Theo requested.

“I’d love too!”

“Great!”

——————

Tomorrow came fast. Theo couldn’t wait he was so excited to see you again. He planned out the whole thing. He brought a ton of food and he even got you flowers.

When you arrived at the black lake Theo gave you the flowers.

“These are beautiful, thank you!”

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, and Theo started to serve the food. What Theo’s friends might think if they saw him here with you was in the back of his mind, but he tried to ignore it and enjoy this time with you.

“Anything for you.”

You smiled at him, feeling really good about going out with Theo. He seemed really nice and you were excited to get to know him.

After the both of you ate you decided to just enjoy each other’s presence and talk.

“So what do you do on days you don’t have class?” Theo asked.

“Well I like to read, sometimes I go on walks around the castle. Then there’s spending time with my cat. I also like to draw. What about you?” You answered.

“That’s interesting! I usually hang out with my friends. I’d love to see your drawings sometime!”

“Really? I’m not that good,” you shrugged.

“I bet you are,” Theo implied.

You smiled at him. “Maybe someday.”

“What do you read about?”

“Mostly animals.”

“You really like animals don’t you.”

“Well my grandfather is Newt Scamander.”

“Really? No way.” Theo was impressed.

“Yep.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Hahaha.”

“Have you ever gone swimming in the black lake?” Theo asked.

“No I haven’t,” you replied.

“Do you want to swim with me?” Theo grinned.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Come on,” Theo said lifting his shirt over his head.

You laughed at him. You were a little shy but you quickly stripped down to your underwear, ripping it off like a bandaid.

Theo did his best to avert his eyes from your body. You were breathtaking and he just couldn’t help it.

“Last one in is a sweaty oaf.” Theo called out.

You squealed as you jumped into the lake. The water was cold and it felt refreshing. You swam over to Theo.

Theo watched as droplets of water fell from your lashes. Theo went and held your waist.

“Is this ok?” Theo asked.

You nodded.

One hand came and brushed your hair out of you face then rested on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You replied.

Theo placed his lips on yours in a heated kiss. His mouth explored yours. Your lips were moving in sync. When the need for air became to strong you pulled away.

“You are a really good kisser,” Theo complemented.

You giggled, “Thank you.”

Theo was quickly falling in love, and he didn’t even know it yet. The last thing on his mind was what his friends would think. He couldn’t care less about their opinion because he found someone he enjoyed spending time with.

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baelogi · 2 days

Text

love me back ✶ sjy female reader word count 0.8k genre romance high school popular!jake ✉️ @okwonyo

love was something special, woven from the fragments of old heartbreak and first experiments. you could say you experienced love, in one form or the other. however, falling in unrequited love seemed to be your specialty at this point.

it was your third rejection and you couldn’t help but wonder what was so wrong with you. was it the way you approached them? the way you talked? did you spit when you spoke to them? or was it the way you fidgeted with your skirt when confessing?

all in all you found comfort in the quiet classroom as you stared out the window watching the life of others. the box of cookies in front of you were soggy and cold, the pink bow taunting you once again. this would be your third batch of cookies tossed into the garbage bin.

perhaps it was the cookies? what if they didn’t like cookies and preferred cupcakes? or a chocolate bar even. or no pastries at all?

while in the midst of your complicating thoughts, jake—your best friend, slid the classroom door open, smiling instinctively when he saw you.

“thought you went home already?” jake’s voice snapped you out of your daze, startling you slightly. “i was gonna wait for you,” you pointed towards the window indicating his soccer practice.

he was clad in his black jersey and shorts, a bit of sweat lined his forehead but he still managed to look ethereal in the dim light.

“oh,” he once again smiled walking over to sit beside you. “you didn’t have to, i know how tired you are.” jake snuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you sulked in your palm.

“what’s the matter, hm?” he noticed you toying with the box of cookies, eyes droopy and lips jutting out dejectedly.

you sighed before laying your head down on your desk, looking away from jake and hoping he didn’t notice your flushed cheeks. “do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“it what way?” he continued to play with your hair, fingers running through your locks.

“i don’t know, in like a love way. i tried confessing again and i got rejected, again.”

jake’s fingers halted in your hair, eyebrows furrowing before he spoke, “you confessed? to who?” jake bit the inside of his cheek thinking about how you had eyes for everyone else but him—when he was right in front of you.

“some kid from my art class, he’s on your soccer team. i thought he liked me.” you turned to face jake.

it was jake’s turn to sigh, “i know why you’re being rejected all the time.” your head perked up at his statement and you moved closer to listen to him.

would you finally have a cure to this madness?

“i told every boy in the school you were off limits.” jake almost looked proud of himself as he spoke, a small smirk beginning to grow on his lips.

“jake! why would you say that?” you were absolutely appalled to hear that your best friend was the reason behind your nonexistent love life.

“because i’ve been waiting for you to love me back.” jake said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and to him, loving you was.

for you, you could feel the years of forcing yourself to like someone else other than your best friend brewing. you had told yourself that it wasn’t normal to like your friend—he was a friend for a reason.

jake pulled your chair until you collided with his legs—trapping you between them. “you don’t know how many threats it took for it to actually get through their heads. i couldn’t have someone else taking my girl away from me.” his hand rested on your exposed thigh drawing circles on your warm skin.

“why didn’t you stop me from making a fool of myself to all of those boys?” half of you felt flustered about his confession while the other felt angry—you looked like a idiot!

“oh my god! you were there when i was making those boys all these cookies! do you know how expensive all of that supplies was? you’re paying me back every cent—!”

your words were cut short when jake smashed his lips into yours, he snaked his hand towards your nape to keep you in place as he desperately and longingly kissed you. jake smiled cockily at the way you tried backing away from him but reluctantly melting into him, finding a comfortable pace.

“as your boyfriend, you can cut me some slack, no?” jake rested his forehead on yours after pulling away, softly running the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“you’re not my boyfriend.” you scowled at him.

“not yet, but i will be.”

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anonymousewrites · 2 days

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-One

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Summary: Kusuke uses Saiki's one weakness against him: (Y/N).

“Kusuo, come to my research lab,” said Kusuke, smiling at Saiki. “I want to show you something.”

After being dragged around London and losing the pieces of his receiver (because of his father, unsurprisingly), Saiki finally had his dampener fixed and could control himself and his abilities once more. Unfortunately, Kusuke’s mind still couldn’t be read due to the new device he’d created (which was frustrating for Saiki since his brother was always cooking up some new scheme).

“Why can’t we go with you?” asked Mr. Saiki.

“I want to see where you spend your days,” said Mrs. Saiki.

“You can enjoy London by yourselves now,” said Kusuke. “I got you a reservation at a restaurant with great roast beef.”

Mr. Saiki looked away nervously and addressed his wife. “Do you want to go on a date? I wouldn’t mind.”

“Me? I wouldn’t mind, either,” said Mrs. Saiki shyly.

“This isn’t your first date.”

Still, Kusuke’s suggestion won, and Mr. and Mrs. Saiki disappeared for a nice date in London. That left Saiki and Kusuke together.

“Those two never change,” said Kusuke as he started leading Saiki into the city.

“What is your intention?” questioned Saiki instantly. “I have no interest in your lab.”

“Let’s play rock-paper-scissors,” said Kusuke instead.

“Don’t ignore me,” said Saiki.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” said Kusuke. He played scissors, which lost against Saiki’s rock. “I lost,” said Kusuke, an awkward smile on his face.

“Are you happy now? I’m going,” said Kusuo, turning to head away.

“My record against you is zero wins and 725 losses now,” said Kusuke. “Your winning percentage is the lowest when you play rock. Well, I guess that’s because I chose to play scissors only 104 times. I have lost the word games thirty-1 times. I have also lost shogi fifty-nine times, chess ten times, and video games 189 times. I have also lost mah-jongg four times and the memory game seven times.”

If (Y/N) was here, they’d comment on his obsession. That thought lightened Saiki’s mood.

“There are others, too. Altogether, how many times have I lose against you?” continued Kusuke. “My total record against you is zero wins and 4,254 losses.”

(Y/N) would call this creepy, decided Saiki fondly. Still, what is he scheming this time?

“Hey, Kusuo, will you teleport us to this address and room?” asked Kusuke, holding out a paper.

Saiki narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad if you don’t,” said Kusuke, smiling. “Don’t you want them to have a good time and know we’re having a good time?’

Weaponizing Mom being upset at us. What a dirty trick, thought Saiki. “Whatever.” He took the paper, Kusuke put his hand on Saiki’s shoulder, and the pair disappeared and reappeared.

“Wow, teleportation really is amazing,” said Kusuke.

“Where are we? A hotel room? Are we in London—” His eyes widened in alarm as his heightened senses heard voices in the next room over—all very familiar. “That can’t be. I must have misheard.” A sweat drop appeared behind his head.

“Did you figure it out already? Correct!” said Kusuke. He grinned creepily. “They are in the next room.”

In the next room over, Nendou leaned out the window. “Wow, runt, pinky, look at this! The buildings look like drawings!”

“Why did we have to come here for a surprise?” wondered Kaidou.

“It’s for Kusuo,” said (Y/N). “But I’m just hoping he feels well. He wasn’t in school because he was sick…” They knew the real reason, but their concern was immense either way.

In the other room, Saiki glared at Kusuke. “Why are they here!?”

He was torn between annoyance and suspicion. Not only were Nendou and Kaidou troublesome at the best of times (though he was friends with them even if he would never admit it), but Saiki hadn’t expected Kusuke to involve (Y/N), and yet there they were, still worried about him. Saiki didn’t want Kusuke to pull (Y/N) into any of his schemes, and that irritated him immensely. (Still, the inkling of relief to have a person he cared about so deeply there with him still made an appearance).

“I summoned them,” said Kusuke, smiling innocently. “I called them a day before your arrival. I asked them to come to London to surprise you. I sent them plane tickets.”

“You’re kidding, they wouldn’t have—” Saiki interrupted himself. “Well, they—” Nendou and Kaidou, dumb as they were at times “—would. But (Y/N) should’ve known better.”

“Really? They were the most worried about you.” Kusuke grinned. “ ‘Is Kusuo alright?’ They really seem to care.”

Saiki glared at Kusuke. The last thing he needed was his brother figuring out anything about his feelings and interfering in his (nonexistent) love life.

“Why did you bring them here?” demanded Saiki.

“Let’s play a game, Kusuo,” said Kusuke.

“A game?” Saiki curled one hand into a fist and punched it into the other.

Not intimidated, Kusuke continued, “Let’s play tag in London.”

“…What?” Saiki deadpanned even more than normal.

“I lost rock-paper-scissors. I will be it,” said Kusuke. “The time limit is three hours. As long as you don’t leave London, you can take buses, taxis, or subways. Well, sounds like fun, right?”

“What is the point? London is larger than the twenty-three wards of Tokyo,” said Saiki.

“You will play with Kaidou and Nendou as well as (L/N) so that you can’t use your powers,” said Kusuke.

“I don’t want to play,” said Saiki.

“You don’t care what happens to those three? With one signal, I can make those two explore London and return to Japan,” said Kusuke.

“(Y/N) would want to see me,” said Saiki. “They wouldn’t go along with it.”

“If you win, I’ll treat you to afternoon tea in this hotel,” said Kusuke, knowing Saiki’s sweet tooth was his biggest weakness. Or, almost.

“…What happens if you win?” said Saiki. He really wanted afternoon tea and the confections that came with it, but first he needed to understand Kusuke’s angle on top of just getting a win on the board.

Kusuke smiled brightly. “If I win, I’ll tell (L/N) you have a crush on them.”

Saiki’s jaw dropped open. What a brutal blow from Kusuke.

“Did you think it was hidden? It’s obvious,” said Kusuke, waving a hand. “As soon as they said your first name and mentioned your receiver, I knew you were open with them. The pieces were simple to put together.” He grinned. “So, what do you say?”

“We’re playing tag.” Saiki could not let Kusuke win—not if he wanted sweets and for his feelings to remain hidden. He wasn’t ready to admit anything, and he wouldn’t let Kusuke of all people do it for him.

Saiki and Kusuke opened the door to the room (Y/N), Kaidou, and Nendou had been stuck in.

“Hey, pal!” cried Nendou excitedly.

“Did we surprise you?” said Kaidou, grinning. “We’re in London.”

“How are you feeling, Saiki?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

“I’m fine,” said Saiki, nodding and pointing to the repaired receiver.

(Y/N) visibly relaxed and smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Now come on, we have to get going,” said Saiki.

“Huh?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

“We’re playing tag,” said Kusuke with a wide grin.

“Tag?” asked (Y/N), Kaidou, and Nendou.

“I will be it, and Kusuo will hide. You three need to help him,” said Kusuke.

“What about the surprise?” asked Kaidou in confusion.

“He was surprised! We did it!” said Kusuke.

“That was it?” said Kaidou.

Knowing Saiki wouldn’t get involved with this of his own volition, (Y/N) looked at him. “You got bribed with sweets, didn’t you, Kusuo?”

“Afternoon tea,” admitted Saiki.

(Y/N) chuckled but smiled. “Alright, I’ll help. What are the rules?”

“The time limit is three hours,” said Kusuke. “You can go anywhere within the borders of London. You can take buses, taxis, and subways. Get ready, start!” He pressed the start of a timer. “I will begin searching in thirty minutes. Run!”

“Let’s go,” said Saiki, immediately grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist and hurrying to the street below.

“What is this, Saiki? I don’t understand,” said Kaidou.

Saiki took a map from a stand and glanced over it. “I’m sorry to involve you, but just shut up and follow me. This is a serious game.” Too much was on the line to mess around (sweets and his feelings).

“Don’t worry, Kusuo, we have your back,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“Isn’t this too easy? London is larger than Tokyo’s twenty-third ward,” said Kaidou.

“There are cameras in the subway like on the street,” mused Saiki, focused on the game. “Well, we could put some distance between us.” He led them down towards the underground.

“Your brother probably has a trick up his sleeve, doesn’t he?” said (Y/N).

Saiki nodded (he actually responded to them).

Sure enough, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the shutter was down. The sign read “Tube Strike” in English.

“Yare yare. There it is,” said Saiki.

“He knew that the subways would be closed, which would make the lines for buses long,” said (Y/N). “Wow. He’s a genius.”

“Don’t praise him, he’s as weird as everyone else in my family,” said Saiki.

“We need to move fast!” said Kaidou, panicking. “He’ll be coming soon.”

If he’s watching us, I’ll watch him. Saiki crossed his eyes. Clairvoyance. He saw his brother on a hang glider. He’s coming this way. He’s close. He can reach this place in five minutes.

“What should we do?” said Nendou.

“There!” said (Y/N), pointing. “Bikes for rent.”

“Good idea.” Another reason Saiki liked (Y/N): they were actually helpful in these situations.

“But there are only three, and there are four of us,” said Kaidou worriedly.

“I can stand on the spokes on the back of one. I’ve done it a ton with Mera,” said (Y/N).

Saiki pulled out a bike. “Get on.”

“Are you su—”

“We don’t have time.”

Saiki didn’t want to admit this was nerve-wracking since he wasn’t a fan of touch usually, but he was choosing this. And it was (Y/N). He was comfortable with them. Of course, he also just didn’t want them to be so close to someone else, and with the other idiots with them, Saiki only trusted himself to keep them safe from Kusuke (not that there was really any danger, but Saiki had to justify this to himself without just getting to the point that he had a crush on (Y/N) and wanted to be close).

“Alright,” said (Y/N), getting onto the back and holding onto Saiki’s shoulders as he began pedaling.

Their cheeks warmed as they held onto him, and they fought to remain composed and focused. Their feelings were strong, but that didn’t mean they could lose focus and mess this up for Saiki. That would ruin any of (Y/N)’s chances to be close with Saiki.

On his part, Saiki kept a straight face as usual, but he kept his eyes carefully ahead instead of glancing at (Y/N)’s hands on him. They were warm even through his clothes, and his heartbeat quickened as their proximity.

Still, they all managed to remain focused on the task at hand and turned through a few streets and alleys to escape Kusuke. The bicycles were working. Unfortunately, not everyone riding them was working. Kaidou’s terrible stamina caught up, and he collapsed to the side.

“Let’s take a break,” he gasped.

“We’ve been biking for fifteen minutes,” said Saiki. “But we did try to avoid cameras. We should be alright. If we move around too much, he’ll detect our location. Perhaps we should’ve move location.”

“That’s what you think!”

From above, Kusuke dropped in with a motorcycle. Saiki and (Y/N) threw themselves out of the way.

“Seriously?! Why is he here?!” cried Kaidou.

“Are you alright?” asked Saiki, helping (Y/N) stand, and they nodded.

“So cool!” said Nendou.

“This isn’t the time for that!” cried Kaidou.

(Y/N) and Saiki jumped back onto their bicycle, and all four sped out of the alley with Kusuke on their heels.

“How did he find us?!” said (Y/N) over the rush of wind. “We avoided cameras!”

“Maybe he has psychic powers,” joked Nendou.

“It would run in the family,” said (Y/N) quietly, chuckling.

“If he did, that would be terrible,” said Saiki. Luckily, his brother was just a genius, not a psychic.

“Does he have a tracking device?” said Kaidou, giving a much more plausible idea.

Saiki’s eyes widened. “My control device.”

“He put a tracking device in it,” groaned (Y/N).

“That jerk.” Saiki looked back, his eyes glowed, and a piece of Kusuke’s motorcycle broke to stop him in his tracks. He biked on, leaving his brother behind.

They only stopped once they reached a giant department store, and Saiki led them in to try to lose Kusuke in the crowds.

“As long as he knows our location, this is better than walking around,” said Saiki. “We need to avoid standing out.”

(Y/N) coughed to avoid laughing. “Good luck with that.”

Nendou was already driving a tiny kid toy car around the store, and Kaidou was examining all of the gaming equipment.

“We have an announcement,” said the PA system, except it spoke with Kusuke’s voice. He was up to something again.

“That voice?”

“Uh-oh, he’s trying another tactic,” said (Y/N).

“Please look for three young Japanese teenagers,” said Kusuke. “One has pink hair and has climbed Big Ben. Another has (H/C) hair and dressed up as a Grenadier Guard. A third is a bad child with shifty eyes who calls football ‘soccer.’ Another is a serial killer gorilla.”

“Is the gorilla Nendou?” said (Y/N), not really fazed by the strangeness of Kusuke’s strategy. They had heard stranger things.

“Definitely,” said Saiki.

“It’s them!” cried an English man, pointing at the group. “Get them!”

Instantly, a crowd converged on them, and they took off running. Saiki led them into a bathroom and a stall. People began to bang on the door, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. They were pinned, and with the tracking device and the crowd, Kusuke would find them in an instant.

“Okay, everyone, don’t worry,” said Kusuke’s voice in the bathroom.

“He’s almost here!” whispered (Y/N) urgently.

“That was a false announcement,” said Kusuke.

“Oh, really?” murmured the crowd, slowly dispersing.

“Up,” whispered (Y/N) to Saiki.

He looked at them, and (Y/N) pointed up.

“Up,” they repeated.

Saiki’s eyes widened as he got the message, and he mentally thanked the world for giving him a friend like (Y/N). For all the trouble they got into and their air-headedness, they came through at all the rights moments.

Saiki teleported them all a floor up. There was no change in the layout of the bathroom, so Kaidou and Nendou didn’t notice. Best of all, though? Kusuke’s tracker wouldn’t see the change in elevation. He would open the door of the stall below and find nothing.

“Time’s up,” said Saiki.

Kusuke had lost once more.

“We won!” cheered Nendou.

“Now do we get to really explore London?” said Kaidou excitedly.

“Do whatever you want,” said Saiki. He opened the stall door and walked out. He had a prize to collect. “(Y/N), do you want to come to tea with me?” Kaidou and Nendou might tail after him, but what mattered was if (Y/N) came or not. They made any additional company so much more bearable.

(Y/N) grinned. “Of course!”

Saiki’s hearts warmed at their brightness.

“So are Kusuo and Saiki always like that?” asked (Y/N), taking a sip of their tea and looking at Mr. and Mrs. Saiki.

Saiki himself was glad that (Y/N) used his first name now since if they called him and Kusuke the same thing, he’d just get frustrated to be lumped in with him.

Mrs. Saiki laughed. “Oh, yes, since they were small. They’re always competing. It’s so cute.”

“Troublesome is more like it,” said Saiki. “He never stops challenging me.”

“They’re brothers. Brothers are like that,” said Mr. Saiki.

“No, he’s just a nuisance.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Well, it was kind of fun. I mean, I don’t have siblings of my own to compete with, so running around with Kaidou and Nendou and Kusuo was a real adventure.”

Saiki looked at them and their shy smile. Okay, fine. So maybe the entire situation hadn’t been that bad since he got to spend time with them and it made them happy. Saiki would never admit it out loud, but he was thankful that Kusuke’s endless competitiveness led to more bonding with (Y/N) and their joy.

“Morning, Kusuo! Where are your parents?” asked (Y/N).

“On another date,” said Saiki. It was the following day, and there was still time until they were scheduled to return to Japan, so his parents were taking advantage of the time.

“That’s cute,” said (Y/N), smiling. They liked how in-love Saiki’s parents were. It was how married couples should be.

“Where are Nendou and Kaidou?” asked Saiki.

“They went back to the department store to buy souvenirs,” said (Y/N).

“Of course they did,” said Saiki.

“Do you have anything you want to do?” asked (Y/N).

“Not particularly,” said Saiki.

“Well, I was thinking of going for a walk to find a bookstore and then head to a café to read,” said (Y/N). They shifted nervously. “Do you want to go together?”

“Yes.” The answer was instant, unusual for Saiki.

(Y/N) brightened. “Really?”

Saiki nodded.

“Awesome,” said (Y/N), grinning ear-to-ear.

Soon enough, Saiki and (Y/N) ended up in a bookstore off the trodden main roads of London. It was quaint and lovely, quiet and private.

“They have so many books,” said (Y/N), looking at each excitedly.

“Can you read English?” asked Saiki.

“Not perfectly, but I’m trying to improve,” said (Y/N), laughing sheepishly. “That’s why I’m trying to find a book that interests me. Then I can improve my vocabulary outside of just what school assigns.”

Saiki nodded, understanding. “How about this one?” He handed over a book.

“Pride…and…Prej-Prejudiice,” said (Y/N), trying to sound out the words. They brightened. “Oh, I’ve seen the movie for this. I love it!”

“What type of story is it?” asked Saiki.

“A romance between a headstrong woman and a man who doesn’t know how to show his feelings,” said (Y/N). “It’s so cute.”

“Would you watch the movie again with me? Maybe over break?” said Saiki, daring to ask (Y/N) for a private moment with them that wasn’t their usual homework or cooking. This was something more akin to what many considered a date. It was a risk to ask, but Saiki wanted to be closer to (Y/N). He wanted to show that he cared.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and their smile softened. “I’d love to, Kusuo, but are you sure you want to interrupt your time alone?”

“I don’t mind spending time with someone when it’s you,” said Saiki. “You’re my…you’re my best friend.” He avoided eye-contact, unused to his own honesty.

(Y/N)’s heart nearly burst, and, overwhelmed with their own emotions, they dared to reach out and touch Saiki’s hand. “I’m glad you like spending time with me, Kuso. I really like i. You’re my…well, you’re my best friend, too.”

Saiki looked down at the hand touching his own, and he let himself take their hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Neither had spoken the complete truth of their feelings, but it was enough. They both cared about the other. That was all their hearts needed to know for now.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

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@justamina-blog

@newtscreatures347269

@digital-dumbass

@chronovala

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nyatbinary-81 · 1 day

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@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

#my art #this is how I think theyd present themselves either in person or in headspace. the slouchers <3 #sifs outfit is simple; the boots i always give them (but with star laces for funsies); loose sweater; simple pants #the pants are Meant to be jeans but isat doesnt Specifically Have Jeans so. theyre just Pants.#the sweater is slightly looser bc sif doesnt seem like a Form Fitting Clothes kinda guy to me but hes Trying to be more open #on particularly good days theyll roll the sleeves up or wear a sleeveless one methinks #even if everyone Knows abt the self-harm scars its hard to Look at them.#i also associate them being more open with them not wearing an eyepatch. esp bc hes the only one of the three to go without it #for mal (or 'ami' as i like to call it) i wanted smth reminiscent of a mourning outfit bc mal du pays means homesickness #and i picked 'ami' as a nickname bc ami means friend :] at least according to my basic translator. i dont speak french <3 #ami's outfit being dark is also reminiscent of the inversion thing its got going on in canon.#ik the veil is starred in the original but i think ami would want the fewest reminders of home. on account of The Issues #(actually if i can come back to sifs laces sif also has issues with reminders of it bc of the memory loss but the shoelaces are His Choice—#—which gives them a form of control over it and they can keep it subtle or undo it if he wants. which makes it easier)#anyway. i put amis hair in an updo and smoothed the hat bc i think ami wants to be Unremarkable. Unknown. so it keeps its silhouette Simple #(it still keeps the pins. theres smth comforting abt them. they shine like stars and theyre not stars and theyre not Home. but theyre You.)#and i kept the long hair i gave loop. dont ask me why its so long when the canon hair is short. maybe their hair kept growing over the loop #OH and i drew ami in a side profile bc Silhouette and also bc i think itd make an effort to keep people away from its blind spot #andddd i think thats about it? plus i actually managed to keep this one within a reasonable timeframe.#if their hair changes lengths/the proportions change between drawings. no they dont 💛 peace and love and body craft #OH AND YOU FINALLY GET TO SEE WHAT I MEAN ABT SIFS BOOTS BC THESE ARE THE BOOTS I GAVE THEM ON MY REGULAR DESIGN ARENT THEY NEAT #i did actually try to give sif a different font but nothing Works for them like the pixel font. i cant explain it.#i think 'ami' would be a nickname that mira gives it. bc. shes Fantasy French. and its a sort of 'youre more than your yearning/loss' thing #me every time i think abt sifstem: yeah they just rotate in my head. nothing major #me every time i talk abt sifstem: oh hey im almost at tag limit again #au Good what can i say

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rick-ety · 3 days

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Here’s the first batch of drawings I have done!

@robygoonn I love him so much you have no idea omg…. He’s a pathetic wet cat in the best way possible and needs SO much more love I swear. One of my favorite interpretations of the narrator I might even say

@bugenthusiast0 (from discord) I’ve already drawn this guy quite a few times FOR GOOD REASON I might be in love. I love love love him so much please tell him to not eat me 🥺🙏 /silly i do NOT taste good we should cuddle instead

@an-theduckin these guys were actually so much fun to draw and idk why,, I love how tired Stanley looks btw hehej z

@unorchido your narrator is so unique and silly I LOVE how stylized he is!! The arrows were really fun to draw, I had a really good time making this guy <3

@genericusername422 (from discord!) I actually tried drawing him a while back but I totally forgot to finish it,, agh. His HAIRR and I love his robotic markings those are SO cool. Anyways throws him at a wall really hard

@employee052 YOU KNOW HIM YOU LOVE HIM. VIRGIL MY BABY (old man)…. I’ve definitely been familiar with this guy for a long while, I’m really surprised I didn’t draw him sooner but honestly it was a good thing since I can really do him justice now… though I may need to draw him again in the future..

@machathecat another really pretty design! I love seeing more animal like designs in characters. I just think his horns are really neat……… 🥰

@dirtylittlemuffin THEY ARE SO IN LOVE. AAGH I love your Stanley and the little arrow goatee it actually drives me crazy bro.. and this narrator design is really neat to me <3 I love them

@sketchygoober MY BABYYY I’ve always loved your narrators, they’re so iconic to me.. drawing your characters is always so fun and I LOVE drawing wings!!! Ahhfjriehwkakdkf he is so pretty..

@bookshopsandtea last not DEFINITELY not least! Your coloring is so soft with them and it’s so so so soooo <€{£{£\¥\ ♥️♥️♥️ interpreting your characters into my style was definitely really cool!

and that’s it for now, but there’s still a lot more to go so don’t worry we’re not done yet ahah. Drawing everyone’s different face shapes and nose shapes and body types and hair styles is really helping my art skills <3 so thank you for the submissions!

#tsp #rickety’s art #tspud #the stanley parable #narrator tsp #tsp narrator #stanley tsp #tsp stanley

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cbrownjc · 3 days

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So it really seems like Armand is Alice - or Daniel's lost memories of Armand have been conflated with his memories of Alice, or something. I'd be really interested to know your thoughts on how much Louis knows? We see malicious triumph from him but (I think) not really an awareness that this specific memory has heavy shades of Armand in it, more like he was happy to weaponise any terrible memory of Daniel's that came to hand.

But how could Louis not know? If Armand and Daniel were together in the past I bet Louis knew about it and probably still does?

(Also your Tumblr is amazing and fascinating and ILU)

Hello! I'm glad you like my Tumblr and thank you for the amazingly kind words! *hugs* 💕

So, Armand & Daniel and Louis. Now, my gut feeling at the moment is that Louis knows a lot about what happened between Armand and Daniel. But possibly not everything.

Or, more directly, I do think it's possible that Louis doesn't fully know how serious it really got between Armand and Daniel; that Armand and Daniel actually truly, deeply, and sincerely fell in love with each other. I may be wrong about that (as I've only had a chance to watch the episode once so far), but there are some little things that are making me think that for now.

The main reason is that we now have an answer for why Louis has called Daniel "our boy" before. (Which he hasn't done this season yet, but I'm sure it's coming.) IMO the reason was indirectly revealed in the scene when Real Rashid brought out the pictures . . . and what Louis and Armand both said about who some of the pictures were of: which is that they were pictures of young human men that were kept with Louis and Armand -- in their company -- for a period of time.

These two -- Louis and Armand -- would basically add a third into their relationship at one time or another. And that they did so a LOT more than once. And that it was something that was always initiated by Louis -- probably because it was something that was Louis' idea to do in the first place, back when they first did so with whomever the first young man they pulled in was.

We don't know how long these young men were kept with them, but I don't think it's wrong to guess that some were kept for rather long periods. It was Louis who would draw these young men into them . . . then some would be drained dry at some point if they weren't just let go.

And Daniel was basically set to be the next in the long line of young men that Louis and Armand would do this with. That is what was initially happening that night at Polynesian Mary's. With Louis, once again, being the one to draw the young man -- in this case, Daniel -- in.

But what made everything different this time -- and what made Daniel different from all the young men that had come before him wrt this -- was that first interview. And I think Assad hinted in an interview during the press tour as to why Armand steps in and saves Daniel's life when Louis attacks Daniel. And that reason is that during that interview, Daniel is able to understand and connect with Louis in a way that Armand hasn't been able to during all their years together. And so becomes fascinated by Daniel because of that.

And I don't think I'm guessing that Armand never became fascinated in such a way with any of the other young men that Louis lured into a triad with them. (Or, if Armand ever did, it was a very fleeting thing).

So, I think in this instance, the third that was lured in by Louis actually ended up fully capturing Armand's attention and, eventually, his heart. And while, as with all the other young men they had done this with before, Daniel was very much "our boy" for both him and Armand in Louis' eyes . . . there were deeper emotions that were growing between Armand and Daniel during that time that Louis just didn't really see -- or that maybe Armand kept Louis from seeing.

Because remember, Armand is much more skilled at the Mind Gift than Louis is. And Louis, very possibly, might have still been under the veil that -- in the books -- his mind gets clouded over by Armand after they first leave Paris.

So there are many reasons Louis may not have fully noticed everything that was happening between Armand and Daniel during however long Daniel was with them. (And, IMO, it is very much looking like it was at least 12 years, which was the length of the whole Devil's Minion saga -- before Daniel was finally turned -- in the book QotD).

Louis knows some things I feel sure of. Like, Louis knows Armand and Daniel had sex because . . . yeah. Armand and Louis weren't just pulling in young human men to be a third with them to play cards or something. 😏 But I'm not sure that Louis knows about the full emotional depth (and heartbreak) of everything that went down between Armand and Daniel.

So yeah, Louis knows about Armand & Daniel -- because he was the one to draw Daniel in to be a third with him and Armand in the first place. But I don't think Louis knows just how deeply and emotionally serious it really got between them. And maybe it's mostly because Armand just kept that part of it from Louis.

As to the Alice = Armand thing and if Louis knows that. . . again I'm not sure. It is one reason I kind of still sort of lean toward the idea that Alice is a real person, but many things about her have been merged with Armand in Daniel's mind. And Louis doesn't actually know which is which.

However . . . Louis could very well know how serious it got between Armand and Daniel, and that Alice isn't real and just really is Armand; and Louis just did what he did -- emotionally going in on Daniel like that -- because Louis really just wanted to hurt Daniel in that way because Daniel had hurt him in the same way just by asking about Lestat like that. Louis does have a very sadistic streak in him, I think that has been very well-established. And it would just be the simplest answer too for it all as well.

#Daniel Molloy #Armand #The Vampire Armand #Louis de Pointe du Lac #Devil's Minion #The Devil's Minion #Interview with the Vampire #amc Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #iwtv Season 2 spoilers #ask #ask and answer #Daniel Malloy

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tartsinarat · 2 days

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Scary extremely old man jumpscare /j

I completely forgot to redesign Belos for the au and only just realised midway when I drew him for a scene redraw and I was like oh shit- as he doesn’t have a right arm in the au (in this post there a small explanation to why) and I completely forgot so I then had to design a badass prosthetic for him.

Designing the prosthetic was one of my favourite things to do because I designed it around how his cursed form has his muscles/ bones exposed which I tried to mimic and used a real prosthetic arm from the 16th century as a reference but made it more fantasy and extra.

The coolest thing about Belos’s prosthetic in this design is that it also meant to resemble an artificial magic staff because it is one! It works the same way and allows him to do magic without relying on the glyphs.

Ignoring the obvious mechanical prosthetic arm I really only did some small tweaks like colour or outfit for example but I did give him a chapstick to remove those dry ass lips because I just personally didn’t vibe with it lmao

Also i had the weirdest mandela effect as I for some reason remember Belos’s eyebrows being really thick but then I used a reference of him as a base for the redesign and they were so thin??? which is really funny because I made Pip have really thick eyebrows for some reason when originally designing him so I think after drawing Pip loads and not having properly watched toh in a hot minute I probably assumed Belos had them too… Ive finally corrected my mistake as Pip is meant to be an almost perfect replica of Belos and so now Belos has thick eyebrows too so they can be proper twinsies lmao

I wanted him to straight up look like a corpse so his eyes look really uncanny due to how saturated they are in comparison, the specific vibe I wanted for Belos was this specific image of Prince Philip who looks like he is just barely hanging on to the world of the living and seems like he’s having a “weekend at Bernie’s” type of moment

For reference, also sorry for the jump-scare I tried to make it less scary by getting a meme image version of prince Philip/hj

But yeah I’ll probably do a Philip redesign soon because he’s got a cool design already but you can tell that it was really simplified for animation :p and I’m probably going to do an au comic based on elsewhere and elsewhen soon because it’s one of my favourite episodes

#the owl house #toh au #toh #art #golden heir au #the owl house au #owl house au #belos toh #the owl house belos #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the golden heir au

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stromuprisahat · 2 days

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The climax of Malyen's two-person blame train

Siege and Storm- Chapter 18

Starting here, I've analysed Malyen's outburst about losing Alina to her importance. I've saved the end for new post, because Aleksander gets dragged in the middle of it, and uses it accordingly.

Ironically, his tantrum only makes Alina feel so lonely she unwittingly reaches out to Aleksander.

And he turns it against her, slightly twisting the facts she doesn't know how else to interpret.

Why is he immediately offended?

Alina's obviously struggling with something, why isn't he worried FOR her? Why only bark "What?" and draw conclusion she's somehow treating him unjustly? They've just discussed she has a lot on her shoulders, but when she doesn't melt as soon as he kisses her, she's rejecting him?!

Even his body language is aggressive.

How can someone, who claims he ~cares~ about Alina as a person, jump to conclusions so quickly?! And force their view, as if they already agreed on it.

He only cares about how will he look if she dumps him.

Reading it over and over- All the time I was standing there, going on like a fool.- the wording makes it sound as if he weren't speaking just about his declaration, but more generally.

Cunty cunt pokes the wound while fresh, entangling it with his own words to make sure Alina remembers he's always right.

Another unfunded conclusion.

It's funny how it's always Alina unable to control her pussy. It never occurs to him she might realize he sucks and dump him without another man involved.

... hoping that you’d miss ME enough to tell them all to go to hell. "Supportive" boyfriend, hoping his girl will get sick of her duties enough to abandon everything AGAIN, and run off with him, because nothing matters more than him.

*giggling*

He just can't shut up, can he?

(Where else isn't he able to shut up?)

Alina finally finds the courage to tell him about her hallucinations, and Malyen demonstrates, why was she reluctant to tell him in the first place.

This is one of many reasons, why I don't believe Alina's "happy" post-R&R. The only close person she has left is Malyen, who:

a.) Hated her being Grisha, so how could he ever get even close to getting a whit of understanding of what was taken from her.

b.) Hates the Darkling being as much as mentioned. He has no clue what's binding him and Alina together, and never wants to hear about any of it.

c.) Just the fact he basically calls Alina Darkles' whore, and a month, two later it doesn't occur to him she might still harbor illicit feelings for him.. there's a new guy, right?! She totally forgot about that first one...

And he doesn't even let her finish a damn sentence.

He doesn't care what's wrong. He doesn't care what's going on. He doesn't care about Alina's feelings. She didn't fall over his neck, all excited, wet and willing, so she doesn't want him. She's just leading him on. Humiliating him... HIM, HIM, HIM...

Funny, how Alina's either whore, or a pathetic inexperienced virgin (derogatory, if you didn't notice), depending on what's easier to shame her with.

And Alina takes all the blame and necessary work on herself.

Alone, she falls apart. Shaky not only due to her duties, but lacking support of the only person she lets close.

Awww, when they comfort the other...

No, but I think this is genuine. On one hand Aleksander wants Alina for himself, but he also realizes the amount of pain she'll have to weather as long as she feels "so strongly" and clings to people, who can never understand her. Or in SOMEONE's case don't even want to.

#Grishaverse #S&S Chapter 18 #Alina Starkov #The Darkling #Darklina #The Tether #Malyen Oretsev #grishanalyticritical #self centred and paranoid #Siege and Storm #Grisha trilogy #V #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #anti Malina #anti Mal

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ham1lton · 1 day

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Hi I really love your works and can't stop rereading them, you're such an amazing author.

Now I saw you were doing some prompts so I was wondering if you can do Kick Schumacher + 40

And have a nice day:)

040. a dusty antiques shop full of relics w/ MS47.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

when your uncle decided to move to the caribbean with his wife, he left you his old antique store. it was in the middle of paris, and you needed a change from your old normal. making the move from your home country to paris was a big adjustment but you powered through. the shop wasn’t always busy but the occasional customer usually bought enough to keep the lights on.

you were reading one of your favourite novels when a blond guy stumbled in, probably seeking shelter from paris’ torrential rain. he was soaked to the bone as he stood up and saw you. he smiled and waved a hand. you nodded and went back to your book.

he started looking around the store but eventually, he walked up to the counter. his gaze on the book in your hands.

“nice day for reading, huh?” his voice carrying a hint of amusement despite the exhaustion in it. you looked at him, meeting his gaze with a polite smile.

“indeed it is,” you gestured at the rain-soaked streets outside. “perfect excuse to stay indoors.”

he laughed lightly, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “can’t argue with that logic.” then, after a moment’s hesitation, he added, “mind if i have a browse for a bit? i could use a distraction.”

“of course. take as long as you’d like. let me know if you need any specific help.”

one thing that you didn’t tell a lot of people was that the antique shop wasn’t a normal antique shop. over the years, you had noticed a pattern - the shop had a knack for attracting people who were grappling with their own inner battles, whether it was heartbreak, weariness, or simply a longing for connection. your uncle had always simply referred to it as "magic," but you couldn't quite put a name to it yet. that’s why you were able to keep the lights on, the shop didn’t allow time-wasters.

you wondered what brought him to its doors.

as the blond stranger continued to explore the shop, you couldn't shake the feeling that his presence here was more than mere chance.

you watched as he paused before a display of antique photographs, his fingers tracing the faded edges of the frame with a gentle reverence.

unable to resist the pull of curiosity, you approached him quietly. "finding anything interesting?" you asked, your voice soft.

he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. "just looking at the stories these photographs hold," he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

you nodded, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "they do have a way of doing that," you agreed, your gaze lingering on his face. "you know, some say this shop has a certain... magic to it. that it has a way of drawing in those who need it most."

his eyes widened in understanding, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. "i can believe that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "there's definitely something special about this place."

in that moment, you felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a longing to share the secrets of the shop with this enigmatic stranger. and as the rain continued to patter against the windows, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't quite explain.

"i'm y/n, by the way," you said, extending your hand in greeting.

he took it, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "mick," he replied, his smile widening into a grin that lit up the room.

and as you stood there, hand in hand, surrounded by the timeless antiques, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, fate had brought him to your door for a reason.

#idk what this was #magical realism #???#also thank u for the compliment!! im so glad u enjoy my work!! :D #ham1lton’s drabbles 🝮#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n #ms47 x reader

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prismatoxic · 2 days

Text

some people are really fucking mad about trans dunmeshi headcanons and it's kind of pathetic.

like i'm actively unsettled by how many times i've seen it recently. usually re: chilchuck. if it upsets you, block the people you're so mad at. write/draw the characters as cis instead. why do you have to complain in a way that puts the blame at the feet of the people with these headcanons? they're just having fun. they're engaging with fandom. they aren't doing anything wrong, and if you don't like it, you're not doing anything wrong by blocking them or saying, on your own (not under their posts, for fuck's sake), "well i don't personally like this thing."

like you do realize that queer headcanons are completely fucking harmless, right? no one is impacting canon by doing this. you just look like a bigot when you come up with reasons why it "doesn't make sense". like i'm sorry dude, but you don't need an explanation for why someone is queer. you're not questioning why or how characters can be cis or het in dunmeshi, so you must think that's "normal", which... i'll be honest, is a bad fucking look! you can't hide behind "i'm a queer ally" or "i have friends who are queer" or even "i'm queer" if you're actively being queerphobic. the fact that i see this the most with trans headcanons is really fucking concerning.

i'm sorry, but trans chilchuck is not hurting you. block people and filter tags like a big kid.

#tox.txt #i wanna tag this with the main tag but i also don't want to fucking die #so just rb it for me maybe

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vixstarria · 2 days

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Bloodbang Chronicles - Chapter 4

Series summary:

Five years have passed since the confrontation with the Netherbrain. Astarion and his warlock lover, Asmodea, are living it up in Baldur’s Gate, running a cabaret. Their life of decadence and debauchery seems idyllic, until Asmodea’s patron disrupts it with a proposal. One that seems too good to be true. One they cannot refuse.

Series masterlist | AO3 | Overall masterlist

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character

Genre: Humor / adventure / smut (not all in this chapter), with all the usual Astarion-related elements along the way, without getting too heavy

Rating: Explicit

Chapter word count: 4,100

Chapter summary: How in the hells are they managing to run a theatre, anyway? Also, we slowly begin the descent into smut.

Sometime in the past five years

“It’s perfect!” Asmodea burst into the bedroom above their tavern.

Astarion had been lying, corpse-like, in bed in the darkness of drawn curtains and shuttered windows, staring off into space, as he was wont to do of late.

He knew he could have gone downstairs - everything was arranged in a way that made it perfectly safe for him during daytime, but he simply could not bring himself to play the amiable host role just then. It wasn’t necessary, anyway - someone else was down there looking after things. He wasn’t necessary.

“It’s in a heavily impacted area and most of the buildings around it are damaged - must be why no one has snatched it up yet - but it’s completely intact.”

Her arrival was a sudden explosion of noise and activity, drawing him out of his lethargy. Candles throughout the room lit up with a flick of her wrist and a murmured incantation. He sat up as she continued.

“A little bird told me that the area around it is going to be cleared for other entertainment venues. Restaurants, taverns. A brothel or two. Just what we want nearby. No temples. No solitary manors.”

She threw her jacket onto a nearby chair, kicked her shoes off and hopped onto the bed next to him.

“I can’t wait to show you - we can sneak back in once it gets dark.”

“As much as I enjoy skulking around abandoned buildings with you, I’m starting to feel like I’m a pet you take out for walks,” said Astarion, his tone sour.

“You’re not-” Asmodea began with a sigh.

“Shh, I’ve already heard everything you’re about to say,” Astarion cut her off, shaking his head. “Just tell me about this new place you’ve found.”

Asmodea gave him a concerned look, but continued.

“What the seller’s asking for is already reasonable, but I’m sure I can get them to knock it down further. It’s huge, more than what we need - but that’s hardly a problem. We can tear down some walls, erect others…” She went on, describing the building she’d located as a potential site for the theatre she wanted to open.

The expression on Astarion’s face thawed at her excitement, before growing sombre again.

“I suppose you have an answer for how we are going to pay for all that as well..?”

“We’ll get a loan,” she answered, with the intonation of one explaining something to a child.

“And what bank is going to give us a loan big enough to cover all that..?” he asked, copying her tone.

“Any bank, with Duke Ravengard as the guarantor,” she answered.

“Is His Grace aware of his role in this enterprise..?” Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll have dinner with him later this tenday and inform him,” she said, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips before getting up again.

“You’re so sure of all this..?” Astarion sighed, laying back on the bed with his hands under his head, to look up at the ceiling.

“You know Wyll’s got a soft spot for us,” she said.

“A hard spot, you mean,” Astarion snickered despite himself.

“Probably best not to bring that up over dinner,” Asmodea cautioned. “We’ll promise to donate part of our proceeds to an orphanage or a hospital or some other cause he’d approve - he won’t say no.”

“If you say so,” he assented. “Have you made any other devious plans I ought to be aware of..?”

“Well…” she drawled, “there is one more thing.” She disappeared in the adjacent room. It sounded like she was rummaging for something - for what, he had no clue. “I need your name,” she called out, offhandedly.

Astarion gave pause, frowning.

“My name is Astarion.”

“I need your surname,” she said, appearing in the doorway.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asked, genuinely dumbfounded.

“I can’t. Use it. Due to my pact,” she gritted through her teeth. “You know this. And buying that building and all the construction work required would be a big undertaking - much bigger than just unofficially renting some dingy tavern space - and I can’t sign legal documents as simply ‘Asmodea’.”

“So why would your dear patron allow you to use mine, if it prohibits your own..?” he blinked.

“Fuckface said that marriage would fall under exceptional circumstances, and they would allow it,” she said.

“Mar-!?” he cut himself off mid-word. “Now… Hold on. Wait a minute,” Astarion started to grin. “Let me get this straight.” He sat up again, looking at her. She had coloured, he noticed. “Although I applaud you for your guile, using your patron as a means of trapping me into marriage… Did you just propose to me..?”

“I would never!” She disappeared back in the other room, making a ruckus with gods know what again. “You can do that yourself. Like a gentleman.”

“What?!” Astarion let out an involuntary giggle.

“And make it romantic!” she shouted. “I’m thinking midnight, someplace nice outside. Moonlight reflecting on water, that kind of thing. Maybe swans. I like swans.”

“Swans?! Is there anything else I should arrange - perhaps some jugglers and mimes..?” he tittered.

“Absolutely not! But a nice ring would be in order. One that no lady is going to grab my hand for, saying she’s recently had one gone missing that looked just like it.” Asmodea reappeared in the doorway. “And make it all a surprise, will you? I don’t want to see it from a league away.” She continued as Astarion got up and off the bed, making monumental efforts to keep his face straight. “If you manage all that within the next few days Wyll might even be compelled to provide us with a nice engagement gift when we see him.”

She made to disappear again, but Astarion reached out and grabbed her, drawing her against him by her waist before she could get away.

“Will you stay still for two seconds..?” He gently tilted her face up to make her look him in the eyes. “You sweet, ridiculous fool… So that’s what you want, is it..?” he murmured, tenderly stroking her face.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her, unable to contain a smile. His teeth clacked against hers mid-kiss, clumsily, as she also couldn’t keep from spilling into a wide grin. They both dissolved into giddy laughter as he pulled her after him, stumbling backwards to the bed.

Present day

Asmodea made her way to one of the stairwells leading down into the theatre.

The entire top floor of the building consisted of private apartments. A large section was used by her and Astarion, their rooms being connected to a private terrace. The rest were offered to visiting artists and other guests. It was much easier to secure an act whilst an entertainer was in the city, if your offer included lodgings.

A downside to this was that there was always a high likelihood of bumping into someone within what they considered to be their home. There was always someone around, whether in the guest rooms upstairs, in the theatre or in the kitchens, no matter the time of day or night. The Dancing Siren never slept.

After descending, she passed by the dressing room, pausing to greet the performers who had begun arriving.

Asmodea usually carried out her own preparations upstairs, but Astarion had an honorary vanity at the far end of the room. Lacking a mirror, instead it sported a multitude of drawings pinned to the wall, ranging from an impressive charcoal portrait of Astarion - its depiction of his semi-profile uncanny in its realism - to a doodle of a stick figure with fluffy white hair, fangs and red eyes.

She moved on towards the auditorium.

The audience section of the theatre was filled with plush, red velvet couches arranged in clusters around small tables, in tiers. Raunchy art lined the walls. The lighting in this area was perpetually dimmed. It was vulgar and decadent, but intentionally, even brazenly so. There was no room for subtle, alluring sensuality - the raucous bawdiness slapped the attendees in their faces. Their guests immediately knew what they were stepping into.

Astarion had been sceptical about this venture at first, having about as much enthusiasm about taking part in anything as he did back when Asmodea unwittingly forced him onstage with Dribbles the Clown’s doppelganger.

He did not have a single creative bone in his body, he said. He had no idea what he was doing. And, above all, he had had enough of being on display - he did not want or need any more eyes on him.

Blatant lies, all of it, it turned out.

It took some time for him to let go of his apprehension and inhibitions, but he eventually found himself diving headfirst into this new endeavour. Apparently attention was addicting when it was on his own terms, as was receiving genuine appreciation for his craft. Swaying an audience to laugh with him was gratifying and empowering. …As was having the authority to direct others and actually having them listen. Having recognition and respect.

Seeing him thrive was a joy - Asmodea only wished that most of the day to day minutiae of running the Siren hadn’t fallen on her shoulders, especially at the beginning. She’d spent her days organising advertisements, luring in performers, or crunching numbers with their accountant until she dreamt of requisitions, whilst Astarion spent his time planning choreography or getting costumes just right. Oh well, she thought. They had hired help for most of the mundane details now.

Asmodea found Astarion lounging on one of the couches, in the company of their stage manager and assistant director.

A rendition of a classical play was being portrayed on stage. Unrequited love between a maiden and her pining lover, cruel fate disallowing them from being together; the story concluded with a tragic suicide pact that somehow culminated in half a dozen dead bodies - everyone in Faerun was familiar with and sick of the story - that didn’t matter, as it wasn’t the focal point of the performance.

Instead, everyone’s attention was intended to be drawn to the shadows projected onto a screen behind the actors. As the actors performed their sorrowful dialogue, their shadows - in reality silhouettes of other actors behind the screen - displayed them doing anything but talking.

“How did you get the shadows to be so sharp?” Asmodea asked, impressed.

“Matrim devised some trick with mirrors,” Astarion answered.

Matrim was, quite possibly, the worst wizard they had ever met. The man was hopeless in everything but illusion magic, which incidentally made him highly sought after for high end spectacles and performances. He provided lighting and visual effects for the theatre, and in turn he was provided with a living and working space in the Siren’s basement, on top of his wages. His lack of proficiency in other schools of magic did not prevent him from stubbornly pursuing them, often with near-catastrophic results. Still, between spending much of his time in the company of scantily clad dancers, and Asmodea and Astarion ignoring the occasional explosions that shook the building, he was likely the most self-satisfied wizard in Baldur’s Gate, despite his professional shortcomings.

As it happened, it was Matrim who managed to conjure a perfect mirror image of Astarion (much to Astarion’s shock), absentmindedly, almost as an afterthought, just as Gale was informing Astarion that he had exhausted all avenues and deemed it impossible.

Gale politely commended the achievement which had eluded him, but ultimately dismissed Matrim as a one trick pony. Regardless, as far as Asmodea and Astarion were concerned, the man was worth his (rather abundant) weight in gold.

As the actor portraying the male hero onstage performed a heartfelt monologue, professing his undying love for the heroine, his shadow was shown to grow an enormous but otherwise anatomically correct phallus.

Asmodea’s patron hummed in approval.

“If Fuckface’s reaction is any indicator for how our audience will respond - this is great,” said Asmodea.

“It still baffles me, some of the things it finds to be funny,” Astarion murmured.

“I’m still under the impression that the concept of gender is alien to them, but they can appreciate a dick joke as well as anyone.”

Fuckface made no comment.

As the scene went on, the shadows began ravaging one another in progressively creative and obscene ways, performing acrobatic feats of increasing complexity.

“It’s good! And now no one will be able to say we don’t pay tribute to the ‘great works’,” Asmodea went on as the female’s shadow was picked up and flipped upside down by the male. “The only thing that concerns me is- OH! By Shar’s tits!” Asmodea gasped as the female suddenly opened and held her legs in a perfect spread eagle split, her crotch level with the man’s head.

“Indeed…” murmured Astarion. “Can you do that?” He glanced at her with curiosity.

“If I ever feel like dislocating a hip I’ll give it a try,” she muttered. “Who’s behind there?”

“The new girl,” Astarion answered. “Elora.”

“Hmm. I hope she sticks around. …Anyway, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this might actually be too crass,” winced Asmodea. “Aren’t they teenagers in the original work?”

“We could give them both beards,” offered Astarion. “Or add a line at the beginning about them struggling to pay their taxes - it will make their state of distress all the more plausible.”

Astarion stood idly swirling a glass of red wine spiked with blood, observing the crowd from behind a curtain off the side of the stage, concealed by darkness. He had been very pleased to learn that drinking wine this way was still enjoyable for him, even without the tadpole.

“See anything you like at the buffet tonight?” Asmodea purred in Astarion’s ear, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He wore a corset beneath a bedazzled suit jacket, together with an obscene amount of jewellery. He preferred to keep his scarred back concealed, when he could. And apparently it was a pants day. Some nights he felt more conservative than others.

He made or altered everything he wore himself, just as he did many of the more outlandish costumes worn by their performers.

Asmodea herself wore her usual rendition of the evening attire she kept to when she wasn’t appearing onstage - a relatively simple red dress tailored to her figure, complete with a high thigh slit. A balance of sophistication and practicality - she made it a life principle to never wear anything that might be too constraining for her to be able to deliver a swift kick to anyone’s groin, should the need arise - all whilst keeping with the theme of the Siren.

“There are a few tempting options…” Astarion responded. “But why don’t you choose tonight?”

“What about the new bard? Devyn. He’s not performing tonight, just watching.”

“You always go for the men,” commented Astarion. “Should I be worried?” he teased.

“They’re more likely to follow through, and less prone to suddenly catching feelings and expectations in the morning,” shrugged Asmodea. “And I like watching you make them squirm,” she whispered in his ear, as he smirked. “But if you’re not up for that, what about that new dancer? Elora?”

“I thought we decided to avoid regular employees after the last fiasco?” Astarion lifted an eyebrow, glancing back at her.

“I’ve noticed she’s been making doe eyes at both of us - I think the other girls have been gossiping to her. Wouldn’t want her to feel left out.”

“Hmm,” hummed Astarion. “Maybe next time. The bard does look appetising.” He downed what was left of his wine. “I’m up.”

The way it started was unintentional. A wood elf ranger visiting their tavern, years back. Warm, guileless, companionable. Perhaps he reminded them of a younger, unburdened Halsin. They were drawn into a conversation with him late into the night. He had recognised Astarion for what he was, and was not frightened by it. Rather, he was curious. Unlike the blood merchant at Moonrise, there was something genuine and almost naive about his curiosity. He wanted to experience being bitten.

They’d explained to him the way it would affect him – the aphrodisiac-like element of being bit by a vampire. It only further sparked his curiosity. Of course that thought wouldn’t deter a wood elf, Astarion would roll his eyes later. They explained the way it would most likely affect Astarion, for that matter – thinking creature blood still tended to go straight to his dick, no matter the source. ‘You can’t argue with your nature’, was all the ranger said. ‘No, but sometimes nature needs to be ignored, replied Astarion.

He brought the ranger’s wrist to his lips, holding his gaze, and bit into it. It was meant to be an arrogant, snarky gesture. An “I told you so. Happy now?”. Instead, the moment the blood hit his tongue, something passed between them. Astarion found his eyes locked with the other elf’s, unable to look away and break the unspoken sultry exchange. No, this could not so easily be ignored.

An indeterminate amount of time passed. It couldn’t have been long, but each moment seemed to hold the significance of a lifetime. ‘Shit,’ thought Astarion, breaking away at last and glancing back at Asmodea, hoping she would write off any change she might have noticed in his demeanour as irrelevant and beyond his control.

Instead, she palmed his cock through his trousers, encouragingly, spellbound by the sight of them. He rutted against her hand, involuntarily. No, it could not be ignored at all.

‘Do you want to continue this upstairs?’ the wood elf breathed, shakily, taking in both of them.

They did.

Words of re-affirmation would follow between Astarion and Asmodea the next day. Was what had occurred fine? Yes, it was. Should it happen again? They didn’t see why not. Ground rules would be set out. Only together. Only with each other’s unwavering consent. Any hesitation meant no. Astarion would drink from their ‘guest’. If they did not want him to – they would not bother at all. Procuring sufficient blood for him to be able to dull the eternal gnawing hunger was still problematic back then. After, it had simply become part of the custom.

The new bard lounged between them in their booth, happily chattering away about his recent travels. He wasn’t scheduled to perform until the following evening, and was spending the night enjoying the evening’s show, at the invitation of his hosts.

Asmodea laughed and talked with the bard, as Astarion mostly kept his eye on the stage, interjecting at appropriate moments. This didn’t require his full attention.

The young man seemed fine. Jovial. Unpretentious. Slightly awkward. Suggestible. Undeniably attractive. He was tipsy, but not sloppily so. In other words, perfect.

Astarion shifted his attention to Asmodea, catching her eye over the bard’s head, as he babbled something about his recent time in Waterdeep. Asmodea held his eye, as he raised an eyebrow at her. She tilted her head slightly and smiled. He had her approval.

The rest was a game consisting of a multitude of little probes, trials and tests, one of several they’d worked out for themselves.

‘Doesn’t this remind you of… ‘before’,’ she’d asked him when they first started getting into this routine.

Of course it did. That was the point. Finding his own ‘prey’ for himself, by his own volition, without pressure, without anyone’s death, without pain or fear of punishment, knowing he could stop any time he wanted, and all of it with her every step of the way. It wouldn’t erase centuries of horrible memories, but having sufficient pleasant experiences might just throw a veil over them, eventually, or so he hoped.

Asmodea reached for a bottle of wine on their table, placing her hand on Devyn’s thigh, as though for balance, and kept it there.

The bard stammered mid-sentence and looked up at her, surprised but clearly pleasantly so. The hand stayed, as she smiled back at him, gazing at him through lidded eyes. He was attracted to her - that much was obvious. One of the little boxes ticked. He went on talking, until he suddenly froze, a touch of panic writ on his face, and turned towards Astarion - as though suddenly remembering that his hosts were a couple.

At that point Astarion had half turned towards him, his arm thrown over the back of the booth’s seat, above Devyn’s shoulders.

Devyn found Astarion’s carmine eyes inches from his own, when he turned. All he could do was look into them, hypnotised like a mouse before a cobra.

Astarion ran a single finger up the back of Devyn’s neck, making the bard’s breath hitch and the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. He briefly toyed with the idea of further petrifying him, perhaps by insinuating that the bard had the audacity to flirt with his wife in his plain sight, but decided against it.

At that point Asmodea had inched her hand further up the young man’s thigh. He let her, and had even spread his legs further, all while continuing to look at Astarion with a mixture of trepidation and a growing excitement. Bold. Promising.

Astarion learned further in, slowly, to gage Devyn’s reaction. The bard stayed entranced and did not shrink away, although Astarion heard his pulse quicken.

It was all as good as sealed.

Astarion finally leaned in for a kiss, which Devyn returned eagerly. The little tease actually got cocksure enough to cover Asmodea’s hand with his own, encouraging her to go higher along his leg.

This left just one little detail.

Astarion slid his lips along the bard’s jaw and up to his ear.

“Do you know what I am..?” he whispered against the shell of his ear.

Devyn let out a shaky breath.

“I’ve heard many rumours… I don’t know which might be true,” he managed, voice thick with desire.

“Many rumours..?” Astarion smiled. “Seems I’m gaining notoriety. But I’ll give you a hint.”

His lips dipped lower, trailing along his neck, nibbling on it softly as Devyn gasped and threw his head back, to give him just the slightest nick with a single fang. He drew only the tiniest drop of blood - only enough to make Devyn crave more, and just enough for Astarion to determine that the blood was appropriate and untainted. He had learned to identify disease - he’s had plenty of test subjects over the past few years after all. Not to the point of determining what was wrong with his target, but enough to be able to tell when to stay away.

Devyn let out a low moan as Astarion continued to lick and lightly suck on his neck, no longer breaking the skin.

Astarion reached out to place his hand on Asmodea’s knee. She covered his hand with hers. They had developed little silent, basic tactile signals for each other. Sharp staccato taps - caution. Intertwined fingers - stay, more. Nails digging into skin - stop immediately. But she only caresses his hand back, reassuring and encouraging him. Everything was fine. She would take it from there.

“Would you like to join us after the show..?” she purred into Devyn’s opposite ear.

“I’ve never done this before,” he stuttered.

“What?!” she teased. “And you say you completed bardic college - I thought lewd indecency was a prerequisite for graduating.”

“No, I mean with-” his eyes darted between Asmodea and Astarion.

Astarion never learned whether he meant vampires, men, women or a combination thereof, as at that point he had to excuse himself and get back onstage. He got up with the strongest feeling of deja vu taking him back to their time with Wyll.

He left as Asmodea was cooing at the flustered bard, promising to teach him whatever skills he was lacking. She found this type particularly entertaining, for whatever reason. It didn’t matter: if she was happy, he was happy.

His new little snack and entertainment for the night was secured, and would eagerly await him.

Asmodea was interrupted by Ban, one of the bouncers, who looked uncharacteristically apprehensive.

“Madam, there is a man at the door asking to see you or the Master. He said he’s a friend of yours.”

“Did he give his name?” Asmodea asked distractedly.

“He refused to, but he is very persistent about seeing you.”

“Can you describe him?” Asmodea frowned.

“Human male, somewhere in his 30’s. Long brown hair. Not your archmage friend. And he has a small child with him.”

Asmodea racked her brain trying to remember anyone they knew that fit that description, who happened to have a child and might act this way. She shook her head.

“Ask him to come in, I’ll attend to him soon.”

Ban leaned in closer to whisper to her.

“He said he won’t enter without the express permission from the lord or lady of the house.”

Fuck.

Asmodea got up, smiling apologetically at Devyn.

“Another time.” She turned back to Ban. “Thank you. I’ll get Astarion myself and will see him.”

~~~~~

Thank you for reading. PS. If you’re wondering whether anything mentioned about the theatre or play is a reference to something that exists irl - the answer is most likely ‘yes’.

Thank you @elora-the-slutty-songstress and @brabblesblog for the OC cameos. 😁

Tags:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird

@brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna

@mj-bites @bardic-inspo

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x asmodea #astarion x oc #astarion x female tav #bloodbang chronicles #asmodea

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