#or at least what is left of it after this game
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
��I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#misters steal your girl#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#Brandon the crash dummy
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hate crime
Summary: No one knows what happened to Ghostface after his initial onslaught on New York City. Unfortunately for the population, he didn't disappear; he just got better.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: swearing, Scream violence, suggestive themes
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
(movie night & a novel life masterlist)
Rainy nights in New York City were the best. They gave way to those calm nights in the apartment that led to soft evenings and the best sleep of the week. If one was lucky, they would be able to grab a bite at Sofia’s and really live it up. A nice night, movies on the TV, and a half-finished pie on the counter? What else could a girl want?
A date. Cassidy wanted a date. Her boyfriend wasn’t a prick, but he was just stupid enough to not know the basics of a relationship. For instance, it was raining on a Saturday night? You invite your fucking girlfriend over so you can both get fucking laid. It wasn’t fucking rocket science. But no, he just had to watch the game with his fucking friends, and leave her to do absolutely nothing in her empty ass apartment.
Instead, she was alone. All alone, watching some shitty movie while he was probably having the time of his life.
Prick.
Well, at least she had ice cream to accompany her. A delicious pint of raspberry cheesecake. Just one bite was enough to transport her to heaven, and she would argue with anyone who thought otherwise. It had been long enough since Cassidy had put it in the freezer that it was just hard enough to make a nice bite, but not too hard to put up a fight.
It was perfect.
Cassidy’s phone vibrated loudly on the counter when she opened the cutlery drawer. It wasn’t all that unusual to get calls at odd hours; work, school, and friends made sure she kept her phone available at all times. And she answered them. So it was instinctual to pick up the phone and accept the call as she fished out a spoon and closed the drawer.
“I’m not interested,” she said before her friend on the other end could even speak.
“Uh, that’s good,” an unknown voice answered, “because I’m not selling.”
Cassidy’s brows narrowed. “Who is this?” She put the spoon in her mouth as she waited for an answer. A warm spoon was optimal for ice cream.
“A friend of a friend,” the voice said. It was hard to tell if it was a guy or a girl. “They dared me to call.”
“Friend of a friend?” She hummed, thinking about who it could be. “Was it David?”
The person on the other end of the line laughed. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“I knew it, that prick,” she sighed. It was no surprise it was David, he would do anything for a cheap laugh. “What do you get out of this shitty prank anyway?”
“Well, it depends,” the voice answered.
Cassidy leaned forward on her counter and smiled to herself. “On what?”
“How long I can keep you on the call,” they said, matching her tone. “Wanna split the $60?”
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out far longer than necessary as she grabbed her pint of ice cream and made her way to the living room. “I guess I can’t turn down $30.”
Cassidy pressed the phone between her cheek and shoulder while she moved. Her hip bumped against the recliner, but it didn’t phase her; she hit it more often than not. As she sat down in the chair, she could hear similar shuffling on the other end of the line. Nothing about it phased her.
“So,” the caller said, drawing out the “o” for far too long. “You doing anything exciting tonight?”
Cassidy chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah, me, myself, and I are really living it up.” She put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and left it there as she turned on Scary Movie 5. How exciting.
“Well,” the caller said with a barely hidden laugh, “what are the three of you doing tonight?”
“A Scary Movie marathon.” She took another bite of her ice cream. “Probably for the fifth time this semester.”
“So you like them.”
“Love them,” she answered instantly. “I could watch them all day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, then what’s your favourite Scary Movie?”
Cassidy looked down at her ice cream and scraped the spoon over the top. That was a pretty good question. The humour in each movie was top tier to her, and that wasn’t negotiable. She couldn’t compare them on that aspect because they all depended on which movies they were making fun of. But there was one movie that stood out from all the rest, she supposed.
“Probably the first one,” she finally said. “It’s a classic.”
“Isn’t that the one based on those Stab movies?”
“That’s the one,” she said with a singular nod that no one could see.
The movie continued to play on the screen.
“Have you ever seen the Stab movies?”
“Fuck no,” Cassidy said before the unknown voice could even finish the question. “Horror movies give me the creeps. Especially when they’re based on real people.” A minuscule shiver wracked her body as if to prove her point.
She heard a deep breath on the other end of the line. “You know, you really should watch the original.” Another breath. “It’s to die for.”
Something about the tone of that last sentence put Cassidy on edge. Perhaps it was simply because she was home alone while the storm continued to rage outside. None of her friends talked like that. Sure, this person was a friend of a friend, but it was still a bit odd.
This person was a bit odd. Was the $30 really worth talking to a weirdo all night? She could be settled with a blanket and paying attention to her movie. But no, she just had to answer the phone and accept a shitty deal. She would need to tell Heather about this whole weird situation later.
“Hey, how much longer until we get that money from David?” Cassidy asked. She couldn’t stop thinking about that last thing the person had said, but she chose to try and ignore it.
“Just a few more minutes,” the caller said in a breathy tone. It was creepy. “Which movie are you watching?”
“What?”
“For your marathon,” they clarified. “Which one?”
“Oh,” she chuckles humourlessly. Nervously.
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell the truth anymore. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach. She hesitantly placed the half-empty pint of ice cream on the side table, soon accompanied by the spoon she had licked clean.
“The third one,” she finally answered.
“No you’re not.” A lump forced its way into her throat. “That’s the fifth.”
Her entire body was frozen while the words ran laps around her mind. What the hell was going on? Her nerves felt like they were engulfed in fire, leaving her simultaneously too hot and frozen. That wasn’t right. The words didn’t form any proper reason in her mind, but she understood the sinking feeling it left in her chest.
“How do you know which movie I’m watching?” She asked as she slowly stood up from her chair.
A heavy breath. “Because I can see your screen.”
As soon as the words pieced together in her head, Cassidy ran to her balcony window. The curtains were closed. They weren’t the only windows into her apartment, but they were the only ones that faced the TV. As far as she knew, no other window could see her screen; a deliberate furnishing choice on her part.
“Listen,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the closed curtains. “I’ll tell David we talked all night if you want.” There was no response. “You can even keep all the money.”
A taunting laugh.
“I never said I talked to David.”
Shit. Shit shit shit. She knew she should have hung up at first. Who the hell was this freak? It was New York City, there were plenty of freaks around, but this? This was just psychotic. Nobody in their right mind would do this shit!
She quickly tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder again and grabbed the curtains with both hands-
“-Open it and I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. How would they even get into the apartment? She froze and reconsidered. How else could they have known what was on her TV? God, what was going on? She thought about the ramifications for far too long before letting go of the curtains. They shifted for a few moments before finally settling back into place.
“Who are you?” Cassidy’s voice was weak.
“You assumed our mutual friend was David.” She waited impatiently. “But surely you haven’t forgotten our dear friend Anika.”
Cassidy laughed bitterly. “Are you fucking serious?” She stomped through the apartment to grab the ice cream and dirty spoon. “Did that loser and her freak girlfriend put you up to this?” She practically threw the ice cream back into the freezer. “Because it’s pathetic.”
Of course that freak had caused this. She hadn’t bullied Anika and Mindy for nothing. Cassidy was a patient soul, it was true, but even she had her limits. No one wanted to hear those weirdos talk about stupid movies 24/7, especially when it wasn’t necessary. Didn’t they know there were better, more important things in the world?
“Those are some strong opinions to have,” the caller said over the sound of the spoon hitting Cassidy’s sink. “Especially for someone in your position.”
She rested her hip on the counter. “And what position would that be?”
“You can open your balcony window now, Cassidy.”
The curtains of the balcony were swaying. If she strained her ears, she could hear the rain falling a little louder. Would it be smart to open the curtains and see what was out there? Or maybe she should just hang up, call the police, and let them deal with it. After all, the police had never done anything wrong to her, surely she could trust them.
But she wanted to know. She wanted to know what those freaks had managed to pull off all on their own. Cassidy wouldn’t have called them stupid; at least not Anika. But there was no way she would have said any of them were smart. They were all just a bunch of down on their luck kids who had gotten into Blackmoore out of pity, not intellect.
Whether she had fully intended to or not, she let her feet carry her toward the balcony. As she got closer, she could hear the rain and wind clearly; the balcony window was open behind the curtains.
“How do you know my name?” She asked even though it was a stupid question. If this person was friends with Anika, then that was how they knew.
Still.
“Everyone knows your name.”
She reached out and grabbed the curtain with both hands.
“Or they’re about to.”
Cassidy closed her eyes, threw the curtains open, and screamed. She used every ounce of breath and energy in her body to release the most blood curdling scream she could manage. But when she opened her eyes, the scream died down in her throat.
There was nothing on the balcony. The door was open, but there was nothing there. Not in the doorway, not on the actual balcony, and not across the street. Hell, the only thing she could see was the poor potted plant that she had let die last year and hadn’t thrown out yet.
This was all just some sick joke.
“You know, this is really pathetic,” Cassidy said calmly even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Fine, call them.” She grabbed her phone and looked for the “end call” button. “They’ll find out all about your dirty little secret.”
She froze.
“Turn around, Cassidy.”
Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Mixed with the rain and wind coming in through the open balcony window that she couldn’t bring herself to close, it was deafening. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to see what could possibly be hiding behind her. It could all be some cruel joke and the apartment could be empty.
Or not.
She took a few short, quick breaths and braced herself before finally turning around quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. There, in the middle of her apartment, was Heather. Heather, the best fuck she’d ever had, tied up in the chair like a piece of meat. There was a gash on her head that was dripping blood into her eyes, but aside from that there weren’t any other physical injuries.
“Heather?” Cassidy said in disbelief.
“Please help me,” Heather cried. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Cassidy dropped the phone without hanging up. She didn’t care anymore. All of this had gone too far. Those creeps had crossed too many lines. Messing with her? Fine. It was pathetic, but fine. But finding her secret hookup? Didn’t they know she had a reputation? What would her boyfriend think if he found out? Actually, he would probably think it was hot. Maybe that was worse.
“Did Anika do this to you?” She asked as she attempted to untie the knots in the rope. It was probably the first time in her life she had ever regretted having acrylics.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Heather said with a sniffle. A drop of blood fell onto the rope. “Her and her geek friends are obsessed with this shit.”
“We’ll call the cops later,” Cassidy said. “I’m tired of their freaky, “poor us” bullshit.”
The ropes weren’t budging, and her fingers were feeling raw. How had they managed to do such a thorough job so quickly? Perhaps because, like she had known from the very beginning, they were all a bunch of freaks. A bunch of freaks who had no lives, no real friends, and no chance of living like normal people. She smirked to herself. They’d have one hell of a time getting any sort of job after college if she had anything to say about it-
-the floor creaked.
Cassidy’s fingers froze. There was only one place in her apartment that the floor creaked. And it wasn’t underneath her or Heather. She looked up slowly. First she saw Heather, sitting there impatiently and waiting for her to get her out. Then the gash on Heather’s face.
Then the cloaked figure standing behind her.
Then the Ghostface mask shrouded in a black hood.
The Ghostface tilted his head at her. She couldn’t move. It felt like the air had frozen in her lungs. She just had to kneel there and watch as he lifted a gloved hand with a giant knife and waved at her with two fingers. The knife was huge. His free hand lifted just as slowly and pushed the mask back inch by inch until she could see the bottom of his face.
The smile was accentuated by the deep scars stretching across both cheeks.
Cassidy opened her mouth to scream before something came from behind her and pressed against her throat.
She never made a sound.
—---
The pool of blood slowly inched across the tarp that had been carefully arranged underneath the two college girls. It was wide enough to catch any accidental splatter, yet thick enough to keep it from spilling out. A wise purchase for a wise killer. Or two.
Ghostface stepped forward, standing over the corpses. It wasn’t their proudest moment; there had been a few hitches in the plan. But when the result was the same, well, they supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They grabbed the mask and yanked it off.
“You jumped the gun,” Tara said breathlessly. The adrenaline was still running through her veins; she had grown to love it.
The second Ghostface removed their mask next.
“I know,” you said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” You looked down at the corpses of your enemies with glee and disgust. “She’s just such a bitch.”
You both continued to stand there, neither one daring to make the first move. The silence after a kill was one of the more satisfying moments to you. No more screaming, no more steel cutting through flesh. Just the sounds of your breathing and the blood rushing through your ears.
“I didn’t know they were gay,” you finally said. “Or closeted, I guess.”
“I think Mindy said they were experimenting,” Tara speculated. “They both tried to hit on Anika at one point.”
You hummed in response and continued to look at them. Not that you had stopped. That was the one thing you didn’t think you would ever really get used to. Sure, your family business was… a bit risque on its own, but this was different. You would argue with Dicky all day every day, but knife wounds were more gruesome than gunshots.
“Does this make us homophobic?” You asked. “Was this a hate crime?”
“I-” Tara stopped and closed her mouth. It made you feel a little better that she had to think about it too. “No,” she finally said with a slow nod. “We’re doing the world a favour.”
You smiled. “God, I love you.”
“Love me while we clean up,” she demanded even though you saw her smile. “Get moving.”
The cleanup process, all of you agreed, was the worst part. It was methodical, time consuming, and boring. You would much rather spend the time with Tara, not cleaning up after the two bitches that bullied all of you like you were still in fucking highschool. Truly, it was almost embarrassing for them. You didn’t want to clean up after their mess again.
But you liked the time you got with Tara. Since the whole original Ghostface debacle, she had lightened up. She still bullied you, but honestly? It was a turn on. You wouldn’t dare tell her to stop. If there ever came a day that you didn’t want Tara Carpenter to bully you? It would be the end of the world.
Cleaning up with Sam, however, was a beast.
That’s why you stuck with Tara. Not just because you loved her, of course, but it was a wonderful bonding activity. You hadn’t wanted to bring her into the family business because, well, that was just dangerous. But this? It was nice. And honestly? It got the both of yours adrenaline going and usually led to some of the best date nights.
…
Maybe you both needed more therapy.
“The scary movie question was clever,” you said after you had finally managed to haul the tarp - and the corpses - to the trash chute.
“Thank you,” Tara said with a genuine smile. “I’m pretty proud of it.”
“You should be,” you encouraged. “I thought Cassidy was gonna hear me laughing.”
“You would’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Tara replied. She was serious, but you knew the truth; she would’ve slept on the couch with you.
The next stage of cleaning was far easier on the back. It was basic cleaning, to make the apartment look lived in, but not abandoned. And certainly not like a murder had occurred. Or, you supposed it was a double murder. God, you still couldn’t get over how much of a bitch Cassidy and Heather were. You really did feel a million pounds lighter now that they were gone.
“You know,” you said as you rested your hip on the counter while Tara made sure no fingerprints were anywhere. “Blood looks really good on you.”
“Shut up,” she said quickly. You still saw the blush on her cheeks.
You weren’t lying though. The dark, now-dried blood was a wonderful match to her eyes. It also looked lovely on her skin. You couldn’t really explain what it was; maybe it was the taboo of it all (you definitely needed more therapy). Whatever it was, it was almost like she was glowing.
Maybe you were just in love.
Tara was still checking the kitchen counter when you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist. Her body seemed to relax in your arms. Like instinct, she leaned back into you and you could hold her closer. You were like two pieces to the same puzzle; your bodies fit perfectly together.
“It’s kinda hot,” you said before placing a kiss on her cheek. She tasted faintly of copper.
“You’re just deranged,” she said softly.
“Only for you,” you said. Your next kiss was placed on her jaw.
“We can’t do this here,” she said with a sigh. “We’re almost done.”
“We haven’t cleaned the bedroom yet,” you offered. “And I’ve got another tarp in my bag.”
She didn’t argue.
“Think of it as an extra “fuck you” to Cassidy,” you continued. “We both know how much you hated her.”
Your arm pulled her tighter against you as you placed a third kiss right behind her ear. Just going off her silence alone, you knew she would cave. Tara did her best to keep things professional on the scene, but you knew how to win her over. And you knew how much she loved it.
“Okay,” she finally said. Whether she was aware of it or not, her head tilted to give you more access to her neck. “But only a quickie.”
“Seeing you like this?” You said as you bent down and swept an arm under her knees. She shrieked lightly before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I don’t think I could last very long anyway.”
You carried her to your bag and bent down so she could grab it before heading directly to the bedroom.
In the background, the credits of Scary Movie 5 rolled on the TV.
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When The Cypress Tree Wilts [Yandere!Kamisato Ayato x Reader]
Prompt: Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. [Dedicated to @jessamine-rose]
Content Tags: (light?) yandere themes, major character death, we ain't trusting getting roses again after this one boys
For twenty-seven years, the cypress tree stood alone. Its branches, exhibiting complete fortitude to withstand erosion, have been a home for many animals. A guardian of many and a home for herons. It's no stretch to say its artistic seriousness made the Cypress tree the Warden of the Forest.
What happens, though, if the forest catches fire? What happens when everything it held dear—all the pillars ingrained in the firmest soil—is reduced to ashes in a single glance? When the forest's life-loving temperament disappears, just what is left of the guardian tree?
There's only one answer: the Cypress loses its Inazuman function. Harmony, balance, and peace wither away from the tree's symbolism. All that's left is the alternative Enkanomiyan myth: cypress trees must only be planted as a mourning tradition.
The Warden of Death...
Kamisato Ayato closed his eyes, making his umpteenth attempt to breathe steadily.
He sat upright on one of the Astral Express's couches. It's been more than eight months since he had found himself as the sole survivor of his world. So far, everything that had been told to him had been unreal.
Gone were the clan, his retainers, and his dearest sister. None were left as he watched their remains swept by the wind. Memories of Ayaka's burnt hair and cheeks crumbling refused to leave his every waking moment. He tried desperately to hold on, but the ashes kept slipping through his fingers until his family's white heron was reduced to a lifeless husk. Her feathers were plucked too soon.
He cannot have her back. He cannot have his clan back. His world was forever unsalvageable.
That was his fate as the Remembrance's souvenir. He can carry the weight of survival while the memokeepers preserve Teyvat's memories.
But at least he has someone in a similar position as himself.
"Mister Yang," you called over the older man hushedly. Welt glanced at the mopping mess and knew just what you were hinting at. Better to alert someone who can assist him better.
"Are you alright, Mister Kamisato?" Welt asked, sitting beside Ayato. He passed his cane onto his other hand so he could pat his shoulder. Ayato only laughed stiffly.
Thankfully, it's not an entirely hopeless cause. There was, at least, a silver lining to make up for it. No matter how dim the glimmer was, he at least had the Express's understanding.
And yours as well.
Ab███████, h█ed his pl█as.
"—to, you can still think this through!"
"Stand back, Himeko."
Just like him, you lost your world, too. You came from a fabric of existence wherein he was deemed fictional. A video game called "Genshin Impact", as you called it. You were terrified when you discovered your universe crumbled because of some time-travel paradox. But in spite of your enormous losses, curiosity triumphed over fear. You would prefer exploring the galaxy than thinking about how much work you still need to do for your college classes.
But today? You rest. After all, the express is landing in Penacony.
While Welt did his best to provide consolation, you handed them warm drinks. Ayato gave you a gentle nod.
He gave it a quick sip. Unlike Himeko's, your brew was more tame. Not at all professionally made— it's everyday coffee— but that adds more to its appeal. Ayato politely wiped possible stains near his lips. You can't help but notice how his mole was placed below it.
He's definitely a video game character, that's for sure. They don't make people this attractive in your old world.
Just holding the coffee you made… feeling its warmth in his hands… It gave him strength to speak.
Ayato sighed. "Apologies, I simply… will take longer to recover my mental composure. I am not usually this easy to rattle or ramble often. I deeply apologize for the trouble I caused the express thus far."
"I do wonder if I had wronged the Gods. I committed plenty of misdeeds in the eyes of the Shogun, yet they were pardoned. But perhaps the Heavenly Principles…" He muttered, thinking he was inaudible. More than half a year without his retainers and constant troubles had dulled his vigilance.
Welt shook his head. "Do not be harsh on yourself by culminating these harmful… ideals, Mister Kamisato."
"I agree." You said. "At any rate, you'll end up miserable for the entire month if you keep overthinking what that Silver Wolf said."
His mood had been visibly dampened since Silver Wolf's last visit. She claims that he was "destined for ruin based on Elio's script" and that it was better he knew about it now rather than later.
Ayato looked away. "I suppose so… This wishful thinking brings me nothing but thoughts such as to save my one and only sister, with this pitiable strength— how can I recreate the past?"
Welt grew cold with mild horror. Then, he cleared his throat after a suspiciously long pause.
The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.
"Why focus on that when the future awaits you?" He said, but with how the older man refused to meet his lilac eyes, there must be more he won't let on.
"Your reluctance… Does this have something to do with what the memokeeper previously stated?"
"...What Black Swan said?" You tilted your head.
Welt sighed. "So many things must be runnin' around your head... I don't usually encourage drinking, but maybe you should have a few shots later."
"I shall consider it, but I must know now, Mister Yang." He looked at him. "What did she mean when she said I was an alternate version of your acquaintance, Otto Apocalypse?"
Welt coughed up his coffee.
Re██y his angu█████ c███s.
"-to, don't do this. You can't bring ██████ back—"
“Your farcical tangents will distract me no more. Do not play parlor tricks with that cane of yours. My mind is sound, and my decision is final."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Ever since Ayato was dubbed as a new Nameless alongside you, he's been bombarded with both blunt and subliminal messages of his supposed "true" nature. One faction agrees he's an existence not meant to be trifled, while the other wants to cultivate him into a villain.
You don't know much about that. Unlike whatever hero's journey he had been experiencing— you're detached from trouble. Your new life was spent writing, dressing up with March, eating with Stelle, and reading through Dan Heng's data banks about constellations & other aesthetically pleasing biological entries. You were a quiet existence. Black Swan remarked you're amicable for someone who cannot return to normalcy. You embrace change far better than others.
But you think that's because there's enough grieving for the Express to carry; they don't have room to acknowledge yours…
"You're Kamisato Ayato, not Otto." You told him firmly. "Don't overthink what she said."
"It is not as if I do not know that, how—"
"No, there are no buts or howevers; that's final."
Ayato laughed softly, no longer tense.
"Understood. I'm your Kamisato Ayato, right?" He tilted his head like a dog.
"Yes, yes, you're our Ayato." You sighed.
He's a lot cuter when relaxed.
You shook your head.
No, better not let this develop into something else. You don't want to have a crush on a guy that's essentially no different from a flatmate.
Furthermore, you exclusively confide in him. You'd rather your relationship as each other's anchor remains the same in the future. After all, you're not the type to let everyone in the room know your baggage. So was Ayato, but... His trauma lends itself to the extremes.
While you were lost in thought, adorable footsteps strutted closer.
Angry, adorable footsteps.
"What are you guys doing drinking coffee?! The train is about to jump soon!!!"
Pompom huffed. They put their little paws on their hips, scoffing at you three. You apologized profusely, forgetting that your trip to Penacony was in ten minutes.
"Sorry, Pompom." Welt sheepishly said.
Ayato looked at Pompom earnestly. "So am I."
"Whatever, okay, but you better change later! You can't join a wedding wearing those clothes!!!"
You frowned. You were already dressed, though. You thought you already looked perfect for the evening. Maybe you should've tried harder... Perhaps you were too relaxed about this...
"Oh, but I'm sorry…" You told them, frowning.
Pompom shook their head, panicking. "Not you, (Y/n), you're always so harsh on yourself— you always know how to dress pretty. I'm talking about these two boys!"
They stared at each other before laughing awkwardly, provoking the conductor further.
Pompom growled, grabbing the broom.
"You know what?! Get off the sofa! Change! NOW!!!"
Abu████ce, stir this b███ft ████e,
"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM?!? HE WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO US!!!"
Penacony weddings are too lively for Ayato's tastes. But much like shadows, nobody can evade the bright lights.
It's clear that someone isn't having the best time.
He nearly tumbled when he saw you. By the looks of his pale face, the lively atmosphere had been draining him senseless. While he maintained his elegant demeanor when talking to Aventurine (and failing), you were refilling your cup at the food aisle. Once Ayato reached you, he desperately wanted to place his head on your shoulder.
“Please… lend me… Five…”
You smiled and opened your arms.
"Don't speak, I got you."
He leaned on your shoulder.
The five seconds you assumed were startlingly morphing into five minutes. You can't feign as a warm statue for that long. While you worry about your willpower, Ayato sank deeper into his thoughts to meditate.
From this angle, he looked like a resting cat.
"You okay, Ayato?"
"The SoulGlad, it's so…"
Ah, right. You figured he might've drunk.
"Not once had it been a passing thought that excessive alcohol and fire displays would be a common wedding practice. The culture shock is astounding." Ayato leered quietly. "Thankfully, I no longer care about putting on a social mask. I cannot stomach participating in copious amounts of… festivities."
You laughed. Is it bad you find his suffering entertaining?
"Is it so different from how they conduct weddings in Inazuma?"
"Hard to say… The Clan may be focused on cultural ceremonies, but I purposely avoided weddings. It helps steer clear talks of arranged marriages. I can only name Chisato's as an exception on top of my head." Ayato placed a hand on his chin.
He continued. "Extravagant weddings such as this had a decline for two years. The dismal lives of vision wielders immensely affected how much pyrotechnics and other displays were available. Any commonplace joy could be marked as vulgarity by the Shogun at any second... All those charges just for an insincere ceremony."
"I… See." You assumed the answer was a resounding no. "Sounds like you're against marriages of convenience."
Ayato pulled away, looking at you.
"Not entirely. I understand why it's a necessary evil, given our politics." He said. "But I still firmly believe that when there's true love, nothing should stand in its way."
His eyes reveal that he's starting to sober up. In Penacony, it was probably a beneficial phenomenon. Might as well give away hangover relief if you market alcohol as the icon of your dreamscape.
"(Y/n), this may sound peculiar, but I glimpsed at an apparel store nearby."
You nodded slightly. He knew you had an affinity for fashion. When you visited the Xianzhou Luofu, he mapped out stores that might interest you. Ayato likes the way you dress. Sometimes, he would even approach you for a consult.
"And? What did you see? Did you take a picture?"
He groggily nodded and pulled out his phone.
"Please, take a look."
…
You blinked, turning red.
"Ayato, these are wedding dresses…"
"I do know that, yes, but don't you believe some of these would suit you? Oh— this one is a particular favorite of mine."
…
He said it so casually that you were beginning to doubt if you were insane. Do friends casually daydream about another friend in a wedding dress? Is that a norm for platonic relationships? You looked away and gently pushed his phone away.
… You hate how you liked what he picked out.
And you know he noticed it, too. Cheeky bastard.
"Let's hold that thought for now."
"May I ask why?" He tilted his head, slightly pouting. "I think a traditional white wedding dress would compliment you. Are you, perhaps, seeing flaws I have missed?"
"Y-You're really not getting it, huh…"
Whatever was troubling you, he wasn't about to dissect it. His thoughts were reduced to simplicity that evening, just down to you look gorgeous tonight. The two of you should extend your visit to Penacony for much longer. It is always night here…
How unfair that you dressed so prettily; he wished it was for his eyes alone. The delicately lace-adorned pastel pink dress suits you well. It felt like a grave sin for him to keep staring at the delicate sapphire necklace resting atop your neck. Not to add, a few strands of your hair framed your face, and your hair was tastefully swept into a neat (h/c) bun. What completes the look is the strappy heels.
When will it be your wedding, (Y/n)?
Your face contorted. "How drunk are you?"
Ayato smirked curtly and shrugged back to what March calls his "nobleman smile", gazing at you intently. You weren't sure if he was listening to you anymore.
"Enough."
That was his reply, short and simple.
As long as your eyes mirror his, it's enough for him.
“LAAADDIEESSS AND GENTLEEEMEEENNN AND OTHER LIVING CREAAATURREEESSS!!!!”
A rather shrill voice shouted through a microphone. It's the wedding's host. From the volume, anyone can discern that it came from the event room. You placed your cup down. It's that time— noises from excited guests, lonesome people, in particular, were shared around. No one can miss their hands, which tremble with excitement.
You jolted.
Shit, that's Sparkle. You promised Stelle and March that you four would take BFF pictures in the costume photo booth before the final farewells. Something about silly masks and hats. Miss it, and you're guaranteed to enter the next fight without a shield. Worse, you might wake up with a bat-shaped wound on your head.
You grabbed Ayato and swerved past the crowd.
“(Y-(Y/n)?!”
Ayato's mind went blank.
You voluntarily held his hand. Gloved hands. Still, he thanked March that she gave him a pair for the occasion. His hands were sweating, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.
Public displays of affection are generally subdued in his old world. Handholding raises questions regarding those reared into nobility like he was. His upbringing was far from liberal, so he did his best to give his sister more freedom, yet he is not accustomed to this skinship.
He gripped yours back weakly. Ayato can't stop staring at your determined expression. He gulped. Can you sense it? Are you secretly enjoying this? Do you know what you're doing?
Can you feel your effect on him?
He's not just drunk.
He might be hopelessly in love with you.
Ayato grew hotter by the second. His breath was stripping away bit by bit. This epiphany was consuming him. He's been trying to deny it for as long as possible, but how laughable is it to do so when he had often pictured himself in peaceful household situations beside you? Can such desires be kept in the shadows, much like his Shuumatsuban work?
He wants you.
Kamisato Ayato wants you as his sole partner.
Wherever you're taking him, he'll follow you to the end, down to the last seconds of this script.
"THE BRIDE IS ABOUT TO THROW THE BOUQUET!!!"
Many lonely guests packed together like penguins. When the bride spun the bouquet around her palm, their reactions ranged from hopeful and cheerful to downright competitive and miserable. They thought a few flowers would ensure marriage, which is a little absurd, but who are you to spoil their fun? Simply because they obstruct your path does not warrant your discreet resentment—
Ayato stopped, halting you as well in the process.
"Ngh…?!"
You looked back, and such an act almost felt as forbidden as Orpheus' most egregious mistake.
If there was a semblance of variety in those women's faces, they were unified in one fell swoop. Their faces soured when the bouquet was passed down to its next owner. Worse, the flowers sat so beautifully in his arms.
That's right. His.
Those red roses…
"AALLLLRIIIIGHTTT! IT SEEMS MISTER KAMISATO GOT IT!!!" Sparkle cheered on. She had a crooked smile on her face. It didn't ring as malicious; instead, she was conflicted before she donned a playful mask. "And sheesh, while holding (Y/n) 's hand too— CONGRATS TO THE SOON-TO-BE-S!!!"
Ah, damn it. Instead of this, you wish people had applauded when you presented your thesis. No matter how crestfallen some were, they were at least good sports. They clapped and teased; you even spotted Himeko raising you a glass at your shared table, laughing. Beside her, Welt did you the courtesy of reminding you that you're hands were linked together. You gawked, pulling away as though Ayato's hand burned. Immediately, he cleared his throat and looked away.
To Ayato, this was the only sign he needed.
With enough time and effort, a leafless tree could still be saved, new birds could still migrate, and an abandoned forest could still be restored. Gradually, he was discovering a fresh cause for optimism instead of a substitute for the people he had lost. There he was, Kamisato Ayato, a hidden custodian of Inazuman traditions, with his feet rooted in a foreign land. Though not very stable, his groundwork keeps him on course.
If he could revive the Kamisato Clan on its brink, how can he not do the same for his life? It's just like what his late father said:
Fall down seven times, stand up eight.
As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it.
Unfortunately for you, it was yours that held his so tightly.
Hence, whether you like it or not, amidst the guests' congratulatory remarks and the bride's laughs, he had made up his mind.
Ayato will pursue you until you wear the gown of his dreams.
More people trailed behind Sparkle and the bride as they went down the stage and to Ayato. You made an effort to get in touch with him to return to your starting point. However, it was challenging, given the number of people around. To hear what bashful comments he said was an even taller order.
That was until the bride dragged her new husband towards you.
"Here, dearie, the garter!"
You blinked.
"What?"
"You know the tradition, bouquet, and garter— I know it ain't as exciting as a bouquet, but ya can't be a pair without it." The husband grinned. "C'mon, take it!"
Your eyes widened.
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"
"Aww, please, do you think we'll get in the way of love when we just got married?" The bride joked. Even though you don't know her well—you just know she's Stelle's friend—you didn't like how this sounded. "C'mon, take it! Don't make poor Mister Kamisato sad."
Did Ayato request this?
You looked back at him. He was smiling at his fellow guests.
He must've made a drunken joke.
"Alright, I'll have it." You'll be a team player, too.
Unbeknownst to you, Ayato's heart was brimming with joy as soon as you accepted it. You twisted the garter around your hand and tied it into a bracelet, and his eyes wrinkled. His face was beaming, and the guests warmly pointed out that it was definitely NOT the drink.
You laughed softly.
Maybe Stelle wouldn't get too angry after she sees these "loots".
Unfortunately, unlike the worlds you once immersed yourself in, your life was not a game. This second try was no exception.
There's a stark difference between the people he loves and himself, Ayato later found. The latter cannot sustain a better life for those he warded, while the former cannot attain the luxury of a peaceful death.
Readers would have gone crazy over how the author mercilessly punished and blamed the main character's dreams if his life had been a work of fiction. If it were genuinely one, he would venture to say that the systematic fate that everyone else was subjected to is the primary criticism.
His mother, his father, his sister, his clan.
And then you?
Ayato had already lost everything twice.
There's no restraint left for him to hold on to.
So…
"Mister Kamisato, please hear us out!" March begged, the shrill of her voice becoming hauntingly akin to a dull knife— repeatedly cutting through ears in prolonged agony.
Ayato scoffed. His blue locks framed his face as he gazed down.
He's heard enough.
Why shouldn't he challenge his fate?
Why shouldn't he challenge Elio's script?
"Whether I permit you or not, there won't be an intelligent word out of you."
No other voice came to disparage him. This silence was loud. As if a voice was missing. Ayato looked at the ground.
He had almost forgotten he had used his former "brother" as a sacrifice. Silently, he thanked Dan Heng- or perhaps Dan Feng- for all that he had done for him and his "bride".
This act angered the rest. His temporary family brandished theirs in unison, with Stelle moving to the front. His response greatly saddened March. But Mister Yang? He was frozen. He didn't seem to move an inch. The older man looked deep into his lilac eyes. There must be more he won't let on.
The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.
But unfortunately, history is a vicious cycle— and it repeats itself.
He materialized his haran geppaku futsu, letting Dan Heng's blood drip while its azure glow shine bright. But what shone brighter was the cryogenic "coffin" behind him.
You may have lost your battle with this curse, but you have helped him not lose his.
You were looking out at a night with a full moon in your last moments. The pitch-black moon seemed to loom life itself. As you strolled alone, every step wet your feet, but there's a persistent sense that you might have been staring at your reflection the entire time despite the void's lack of offerings.
It's always night in Penacony. You have heard that innumerable times. Night never sleeps. The chitchat never stops. The tango doesn't halt. But time stands still for you as the rest of the world rejoices.
But Penacony was not your resting place. It was the Xianzhou.
How unfortunate that you forget that in your last moments. Mara has a knack for erasing the memory of its victims. The only solace that your admirer gets is that your previous recollections are of him, of you, and of the bouquet and garter you received.
At least before you closed your eyes, you thought of him.
Ayato gazed at your mara-struck face once more.
Beauty is eternal. Despite the chill seeping into your bones, your clothes were nothing short of ethereal. A traditional white wedding dress, floor-length with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, would've been given more justice if the wearer was not frozen in time. The laces and beadwork detailing were reminiscent of sakura petals, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves.
You're holding a bouquet of roses mixed with sakura...
Just like you, Kamisato Ayato always had a good eye for aesthetics.
It's a shame the little life left in his eyes was wilting away.
It's a shame that this wedding never happened.
It's a shame you told him you needed more time to think.
It's a shame you're frozen in time.
However...
As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. And Yaoshi has plenty to reach for.
With that, using the blood of the Vidyadhara he had slain, he summoned his new Aeon.
One that he does not particularly believe in. And if he had never placed his blind faith in the Shogun, he doubts he would do the same in Yaoshi.
So, Aeon of Abundance, with the former High Elder's blood on his hands...
Prove him wrong.
"Abundance, heed my pleas,
Repay my anguished cries.
Abundance, stir this bereft peace,
Awaken love from death's disguise."
Bring his soon-to-be Kamisato (Y/n) back to him.
#$ first follower event#yandere gi#yandere kamisato ayato#yandere ayato#yandere ayato x reader#yandere kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#hsr#kamisato ayato#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x reader#yancore#yanderecore#genshin ayato#genshin impact ayato
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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11
Young Love and Old Money Masterlist
AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.
Word Count: 7,238
The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so.
Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet.
He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely.
I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand.
“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided.
“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting.
Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention.
“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted.
“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked.
Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed.
“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable.
“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door.
“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm.
“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for.
“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.”
“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer.
“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.”
Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was.
“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”
“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.”
“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.”
My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much.
I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in.
“We haven’t done this since-”
“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence.
“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?”
“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled.
“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide.
“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.
“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.”
“Don’t let Cassian know that,” Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed.
“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed.
It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did.
Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.
“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.
“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay.
I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink.
“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did.
“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder.
“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror.
I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly.
“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face.
“Will you teach me how to fight? I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away. I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.
His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day.
“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs.
I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn.
When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me.
“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.
“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down.
“But Cass I’m fine-”
“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right.
“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him.
He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine. Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.
“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.”
“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose.
“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him.
Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body. The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue.
“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”
Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted on my stomach.
“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up.
“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them.
My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children.
A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for.
What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?
“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water.
“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response.
“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-”
“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy, I just need you.”
“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.
“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies. I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.”
He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand.
“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.
“Now I’m never letting you go”
The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love.
“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother.
There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues.
“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”
“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips.
I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days.
“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band.
“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest.
“Whatever makes you happy my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair.
We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be.
The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal.
I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.
“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him.
“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.
“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him.
“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips.
I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss.
His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”
“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum.
“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.”
“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall.
His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.
“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.”
My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me.
As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance, a concerned look on his face.
“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong.
“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati.
Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.
“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.
He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly.
“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him.
Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.
“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest.
“Yes,” I nod.
In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend.
The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city.
As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up.
When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away. Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.
We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.
“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,” Rhysand’s voice boomed.
It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.
“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me. Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?
I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.
“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it. While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.
“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning.
“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.”
“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly.
My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.
Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.
“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir.
Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down.
Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.
“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.”
“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.”
Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.
“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm.
Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room.
I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.
“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins.
Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.
“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage.
“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself.
Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through.
“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive.
“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne.
“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through.
Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.
“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him.
“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”
My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now.
“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.
“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away.
I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.
He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly.
“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides.
I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough.
I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor.
“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts.
I was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me.
His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.
“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.
My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.
“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine.
“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him.
“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple.
“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest.
“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me.
If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.
“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more.
My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing.
“Oh Cass,” I moaned, my nails raking across his back.
“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?”
His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated.
“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”
His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly.
“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me.
Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment.
He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.
I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst.
“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on.
“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.
In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.
“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-”
“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.
“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.
The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down.
“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.
He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.
“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”
“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly.
“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck.
“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his.
“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.
“What?” he says, caught off guard.
“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.
“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle.
“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face.
“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.
Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!
Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 , @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always
#cassian angst#cassian smut#cassian acotar#cassian#cassian x reader#cassian x reader smut#cassian x y/n#acosf#eris vanserra smut#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra acotar#rhys acotar#rhysand acotar#rhysand x reader#rhysand#rhysand fluff#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#rhysand angst#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#acotar#a court of thorns and roses
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Too Good to Say Goodbye (SNEAK PEAK)
Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cursing, Hurt/Comfort & Implied Smut
(THIS IS A SNEAK PEAK! IT'S GONNA BE A LONG ONE BUT ENJOY THIS LITTLE SNEAK PEAK IM GIVING YOU) I also have a lengthy Logan smut in my drafts but I'm no where NEAR done yet.
Summary: Y/N is tired of constantly being dissed by Logan and he doesn't seem to care, at least not until it's too late.
I clasp my jacket closer to my body as I wait for Logan to open the door of our shared apartment. It's pouring rain and my dumbass forgot the keys, I sigh as I pull my phone out, dialing my lovers number.
one ring
two rings
three rings
four- declined.
*new text from "Logie Bear🐻💙"*
Logie Bear🐻💙: Babe I'm on the sim, give me a few.
Me: I'm out here in the pouring rain and I left my key, You said you'd unlock the door 5 minutes ago.
Logie Bear🐻💙: You fucking made me crash.
Logie Bear🐻💙: I'm coming.
A scoff leaves my lips as I shove my phone into my soak jean pockets that stuck to my skin, a few minutes later I hear the lock click and the door swigs open revealing a less than happy Logan.
"Damn, were you watching our home videos while waiting for me to open the door?" Logan laughed as he took in a soaked me before side stepping so I could walk in.
"I've been outside for 10 fucking minutes in the pouring rain Logan and you're making jokes?" I almost screamed at him
Unbelievable, all I do for him and this is how he treats me?
"Woah babe, take a joke," Logan starts before his phone starts ringing "Yeah? Oh for sure, right now? Uh huh, Okay I'll hop on. Yup yup, just give me 5. I'm grabbing a snack" with that Logan hung up the phone "I'm hoping back on the sim with the boys, so just take a shower and dry the floors, you're ruining the wood."
I wanted to scream, I'm ruining the floors? I wouldn't be ruining the floors if you would've opened the door 10 minutes ago like you fucking said you would.
I made my way into our shared room, grabbing my clothes and speaker before making my way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I connected my phone to the speaker and started playing "Hold Me While You Wait" by Lewis Capaldi on a low volume before stripping out of the soaking wet clothes that stuck to my skin.
My shaking hand turned the tap to hot as the water started spurting out of the shower head, which made me sigh thinking about the shower head I gave Logan every time we showered together. Today makes 3 weeks since we last fucked, and that was also probably why I'm so aggravated at everything he does. All this pent up sexual tension between us is driving me crazy.
Before stepping into the now steamy shower I turned the volume up on the song currently playing. Once in the tub, I let all my problems wash off of me and down the drain as I let the boiling hot water hit my skin as I just stood under the warmth of it. After what felt like 3 minutes of pure bliss and silence I hear a faint knock at the door before hearing it open. Peaking my head out the shower curtain I'm greeted by Logan just standing by the door.
"Hey Logie, care to join me?" I said in a low & seductive voice, watching as he steps fully into the bathroom and closes the door. A victory smile makes its way on my lips as I pull myself behind the curtain once more, quickly lathering myself in foamy soap.
I can hear Logans footsteps getting closer to the shower, but instead of getting in I hear him pick up my phone, turn the volume down, set my phone back down and as he's leaving he mutters "Not tonight. Boys are on the game and they're complaining that your depressing songs are too loud."
Are you fucking kidding me?
That had been my last straw. In one quick movement I turn off the shower, throw my robe on and march out of the bathroom and into his sim room.
#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant#oscar piastri#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#max verstappen#logan sargent fluff#Logan sergeant imagines#hurt/comfort#Spotify#lewis hamilton#lewis capaldi#formula one#f1 smau#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#smut#fluff#drabble#female reader#x reader#imagine#fanfic#concept#fandom
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The days blur together while Lloyd sits on the front porch of the monastery, and waits for the sky to split open and bleed purple so he can nurture it back to the beautiful blue he admires
72 hours after the merge and cell towers were still down, and access to the internet was but a dream. If you wanted to talk with someone, you had to get up on your own two feet and go looking for yourself, not knowing if the person you were looking for was a neighborhood or a realm away.
He marched into Ninjago City in his brilliant green gi looking for his family, only to be bombarded with panicked crowds of people. Many scrambling to find loved ones or raiding stores for supplies. He was shoved and pushed around and for a moment he didn’t even recognize the city he grew up protecting. He was instantly recognized and adults and children alike ran to him for answers, for help…. And hope.
He sweated, choked on his words, and cowardly fled the scene. He couldn’t lead them, he couldn’t bare to be a figure head when he himself had so many questions and feelings left unresolved.
Hours turned into weeks but he couldn’t tell if it felt like days or months. He hesitated when he couldn’t remember if Kai left the monastery to search for their family three days ago or a week ago. Shame was written over his heart, much like when he abandoned his duties after Nya’s passing.
He passed the time by cleaning, it was always the thing that gave him a sense of normalcy whenever he craved it. His home was filled with bittersweet memories and keepsakes from his family, he felt a responsibility to protect their home, it was the least he could do.
72 hours after Kai left the monastery, Lloyd found a camera after digging in a closet. He powered it up and dug into the footage, reliving the days from his past, the ones before the merge. It was all too bitter and sweet all the same, and his tears fled from his eyes.
72 hours after he found that camera, he couldn’t bare to see it collect dust on the coffee table where Kai and Cole spend hours playing video games. He grabbed the camera, dressed himself in anything but green, and left the monastery for the first time in weeks.
He marched toward the city but was stopped in his tracks. It almost felt like possession, and in some way, it did feel like fear had possessed him.
He couldn’t bare to take another step, but he could raise his camera, and so he snapped a picture of Ninjago City in the distance. He hid behind the lense, and only then could he face what his home— his world, has become.
He kept his distance, out of sight out of mind he thought, as he snapped pictures of the city streets, raided stores, and crowds of people looking for loved ones.
He hid behind the lense for so long he nearly became a myth, and when Wyldfire came to him with a shoebox full of those photos, he brought his hands to his chest, instinctively wanting to snap a photo and remain behind those lenses.
#do you ever think about the chaos after the merge?#ninjago#lloyd garmadon#lloyd ninjago#ninjago lloyd#ninjago dragons rising
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Power Couple - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: Life during Caitlin and your rookie season - Based on THIS request
Warnings: None that I can think of :) just some fluff for ya
Word Count: 4.8k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: I don't know much about soccer but I tried my best! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think 🤍
The first time Caitlin knew you were something special was in high school. The two of you faced off on the soccer field during a game. This was when Caitlin still played soccer and was figuring out if she wanted to pursue soccer in college or basketball. She ended up going with the latter and was thankful for it because you were a force to be reckoned with.
You had nearly a perfect game. Your team came out on top but no thanks to a certain player on the other team. When the game was over and your team was going around saying 'good game' to the other team you pulled no.23 in.
"You almost gave me a run for my money, keep it up babe," you say as you bring her into a half hug so you can whisper it in her ear. You give her hip a little pinch before shaking hands with her coaches.
Caitlin is left speechless. She goes back into the locker room - star-struck and a little confused. She has never really been interested in anyone and has never really had the time to date but you had her wanting more. That night, she did some IG stalking and found you. She spent the whole evening looking through your page and all your tags. She went through all your teammate's photos and even searched you as a tag. She fell asleep contemplating if she was going to follow you. It seemed silly that she was nervous to press a button.
She dreamt of you that night. Had a dream that the two of you played D1 soccer in college together and were the 'it' couple of school (not like that is really a thing in college but a girl can dream). When she woke up in the morning she looked at her phone to see what time it was. She shot up when she saw the notification that you had followed her. She couldn't believe a single notification had her feeling like a little school girl but there she was.
When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Caitlin had requested to follow you back.
From there - she was the one to message you first, talking about how amazing you had played and how impressed she was. You were hardcore flattered. The two of you didn't talk much after but you both followed each other in your respective sports. You learned that Caitlin dropped soccer for basketball which you thought was a shame - she could have easily gone D1. But watching her on the court was something else. Her IQ on the court was something you had never seen before.
It was during your senior year of high school that the two of you started going to watch each other play. At least when you both had the time, which wasn't super frequent. It was merely a taste of what the two of you were about to experience in college. Both of you had signed to become Hawkeyees. Caitlin for basketball and you for soccer.
It was your freshman year of college that the two of you started hanging out. You had become pretty close friends that always acted like more. Your friendship took a turn one night when you were taking care of a very sick Caitlin.
"I don't want soup," she pouts and turns away from the spoonful of soup you are trying to feed her.
"Caitlin you need to eat," you say as you grab her shoulder to hold her down from rolling over. She tries to fight you but is extremely weak due to the flu overtaking her body. She whines when she can't turn away from you and lays there in defeat. She looks like she is on the verge of tears.
"Hey, hey," you say as you rub her arm. "Shhh it's okay love." Your hand comes up to her face and caresses it. She looks up at you with such tired eyes. "I know you don't want to but you haven't eaten in days and it's scaring me."
Her eyes stare into yours as she takes your hand holding the spoon and guides it to her mouth. She takes a little bite that looks painful to swallow but she does. You kiss her forehead and continue to feed her the broth.
Later that night you fell asleep next to her bed, you took the floor to not get sick yourself. Caitlin woke up and saw you sleeping on the floor. She turned to face you and looked down, she loved watching you sleep. You always looked so peaceful which is so different than watching you on the field. She reached down and brushed a piece of hair from your face and whispered 'I love you'. Little did she know that her touch had stirred you awake and you heard her little confession.
It was shortly after Caitlin got better that you two started dating. You went public on your three-month anniversary, which was also when you signed for the USWNT. It had been a dream of yours since you were a little girl.
You stopped playing for Iowa once you joined the women’s team but that didn’t stop you from going to support your girl for her games whenever you could. Caitlin did the same whenever you had games close by and the two of you sort of became known supporters at each other's games. It was kind of cute how people would get excited to see Caitlin coming to your games and vice versa. Someone had even started an amateur fan account for the two of you, nothing ever came from it but it would pop up on your feed every now and again. It was mostly posts of you wearing Caitlin's jerseys at her games and Caitlin wearing your jerseys to support your games.
There was one game you went to support Caitlin and had her fans come up and ask for pictures with you. It was cute how her fans were so supportive of the two of you. But with support, also comes hate.
As the years go on, your relationship with Caitlin grows. By the time the two of you are entering your senior year of college, you have pretty much been through it all. The ups and downs have been very high and very low but you wouldn't have changed any of it. It was because of those times that you know as you begin your careers, you and Caitlin will make it.
It is during your last year that you get drafted as the first pick to the Chicago Red Stars. Caitlin and your family are there for the draft and are over the moon for you to be playing closer to home. When your name is announced - you hug your family first then make your way to Caitlin. She engulfs you in a hug and kisses the top of your head. You look up and give her a little kiss before heading up to shake the announcer's hand and head off to a few interviews.
Being drafted before the school year ended meant that you would have to finish your senior year online. It wasn't your favorite but you were determined to get your degree, even though everyone was saying you no longer needed it. It was something you felt like you needed to accomplish.
This also meant that you would be moving to Chicago to start training. At no point was there ever any tension in your relationship with Catilin when it came to moving. The two of you had a conversation early on about what your life goals were which included playing pro for your respective sports. The two of you talked through what that would look like and how you would prioritize one another while pursuing each of your dreams. The way you two were on the same page only solidified your relationship even more.
As Caitlin and the Hawkeyes were heading into March Madness - you weren't able to make it to the Sweet Sixteen or the Elite Eight. That didn't stop you from watching your girl dominate on the court - breaking records and doing what she does best (shooting logo threes).
You were bummed that you couldn't be there when she broke the NCAA scoring record but one of your teammates got a video of you watching your girlfriend make history and posted it. It gained a lot of traction and was the first time they featured your relationship on any sports network.
When you found out Caitlin was heading back to the final four - you made it a priority to head to Clevland to watch. You were able to pull some strings and get courtside seats to watch your girl front row. You watched them play UConn and were stressed the entire game. This was some of the best defense you have seen a team put up against Cait. They came to fight.
Throughout the game you had people come up to you and ask for autographs and photos. It was neat to see it was a variety of both Caitlin's fans who knew you as her girlfriend and also your fans who have watched you since you started with the USNWT.
When the Hawkeyes pulled through and took the win - everyone flooded the court, making it almost impossible to find Caitlin. It was actually a handful of people in the crowd who helped you locate her. When you saw her, you ran straight up to her and wrapped your legs and arms around her. You knew what this game stood for - it was redemption from the previous year.
"THAT WAS AMAZING BABE!" You yelled right in her ear.
She laughs and spins you around, "I am so glad you were able to make it." She inhales you and is reminded of how much she misses you. "Do you have to leave?" She asks, only half-heartedly wanting the answer.
"Well knowing you were going to win this game and Coach not needing me back until Monday, I am staying to the final," you say hoping down from your girl but keeping your arms around her neck.
Caitlin brings you back into her and just holds you. As thankful as she is that her team just won, she is even more grateful that she gets to spend some time with you. Cait and the team only had a light practice the day in between games. The rest of the day was to be used as a rest day with the exception of a team dinner. You spent the day in Caitlin’s hotel room. Most of the time the two of you spent catching up on life and how each of you has been doing. She talked about her feelings about how she contemplated staying at Iowa for a fifth year versus going to the WNBA draft. The two of you had talked a little over the phone about it but there was something about having you there that really opened her up about all the thoughts she truly had. You sat there and listened to her talk - it was one of your favorite things to do. You could sit with her forever and be content.
She loved talking to you because you never pushed her in one direction or another, but would rather genuinely listen to her. And when she would pause to gather her thoughts, you would ask her questions to help her figure out what she wants to do and not what the media expects of her. You knew the last thing that she needed was someone else telling her what she should and shouldn't be doing.
When it was your turn to unpack - you talked about the shift from playing on the women's national team to a city team. It was a shift but one that was really nice. It felt like you were finally able to settle down somewhere and you were excited for her to feel the same and hopefully a little closer to yourself than she was at now. You missed being around her.
You continued to talk about how her team has been super welcoming and that you all instantly fit into the team. That was something Caitlin knew you were worried about signing with the Chicago Red Stars. She hasn't been out to one of your games yet but is hoping to before she goes into training.
That night you joined Caitlin at the team dinner. All the girls were happy to see you. It was great getting to spend some time with everyone - with Cait being on the team, you had become really close to some of her friends. Kate and Gabby were especially happy to see you.
You went to watch the championship game the next day - sitting right behind the team's bench. You watched your girl put up 18 points in the first quarter - breaking another record in her last collegiate game.
As the game progressed you saw how difficult it was for the Hawkeyes to put up points against the best defensive team in the league. But they put up a fight.
In the final quarter, you could see the hope in the team's eyes slip away as the momentum SC was gaining kept going. When there were only a few minutes left, you saw the shift in Caitlin's demeanor and knew that she was beginning to accept defeat.
At the one-minute mark, Coach Bluder pulled her starting seniors and allowed some of the other girls take the court. As Caitlin was walking off, she alongside Kate and Gabby went down the line of coaches and gave them each a hug. When she sat down on the bench, you couldn't see her face but knew she was struggling to keep it together. If there was anyone else in this stadium that knew how much she wanted this win, it was you.
It didn't come as a surprise when Caitlin sat right in front of you. You leaned down to her and placed your hand on her arm. No words needed, just a sign to show her that you were there. Her hand comes up and rests on yours, giving a little squeeze.
She spent that night in your arms. You tried to get her out of her head but weren't doing a great job of it. All Caitlin really wanted was to be held by you and that is exactly what you did.
You flew back to Chicago that Monday - feeling sad you were leaving Caitlin but know you left her in good hands with Kate and Gabby. Before leaving - Caitlin booked a flight to come out to watch you play in Chicago. You thought it would be a good distraction as well as nice to have her back in the stands.
When it was game day, you took the field for warm-ups, occasionally looking towards the stands to see where your girlfriend was watching from. It wasn't an easy task but you looked in all the typical places she would watch from when you were playing for the USWNT. When you couldn't find her in the crowd, you got worried that she wasn't able to make it. When you got back to the bench, you did a quick scan when one of the other girls came up to you and pointed to one of the boxes. Looking over - you saw Caitlin in the middle box talking with your team manager.
A smile makes its way to your face as you see them talking and laughing. Your team manager was kind of a hard-ass which would have you worried if it was anyone other than Caitlin. But knowing your girl, she could start a conversation with anyone.
Throughout the game, you would glance up to the box. You were met with the sight of either Caitlin watching intently or her talking with whoever else was there. You noticed one of the times she was talking to one of your teammate's wives. It was such a comfort to have her there.
At the end of the game, your team pulled through and took the dub against the Kansas City Current. As the team was celebrating you felt someone come up from behind you and spin you around. Knowing immediately who it was, when you were put down - you turned and jumped into Cailtin's arms.
"Proud of you babe," she says as she embraces you yet again.
"I am glad you were able to come," you say and grab her hand to introduce her to a few of your teammates.
The next day you see an article out about Caitlin coming to your game. It wasn't the first but it was the first that you saw circulate social media to this extent. It caught like wildfire and the next thing to know your following on IG went from 20k to 50k.
You didn't think much of it considering you don't follow the media really at all but thought it was cute and shot it over to Caitlin. She thought it was funny and criticized the photo they chose of the two of you.
The next thing you know, you are in New York getting ready for the WNBA draft. You are sharing a room with Caitlin and just sit in awe as your girl is getting dressed. She is the first to sport Prada for the WNBA and she is looking amazing.
Once she is dressed, the two of you head down. There are a few photos snapped of Caitlin on the way down, you follow closely behind her, trying to not get in the frame. That proves hard to do as she refuses to let go of your hand. At one point she looks back and gives your hand a little kiss before heading into the elevator to head down to the orange carpet.
The night went by in a blur. Caitlin is the first pick and is headed to the Indiana Fever. It was what both of you were prepared for and have honestly started planning for as well. You two started talking about how it would be so nice to only be an hour's plane ride away from each other (a 3-hour drive if needed).
Her crew celebrates by going out for some drinks and food. It was a fun night out with the girls not only celebrating Caitlin but also Kate who was drafted into the Aces. The two of you end the night back in the hotel.
The next morning, you started to get notifications and messages about the media calling you and Caitlin the new 'Power Couple' of the sports world. Before you could open anything on your phone, Caitlin was showing you hers. You looked at the post that Ovvertimewbb posted. It was the photo of Caitlin kissing your hand right before heading into the elevator with a caption on how you two are the couple to watch in and out of the game.
"So they are calling us the couple to watch," you say as you hand the phone back to Cait.
"Looks like it," she says with a laugh. "I have no idea what that means."
"Honestly, neither do I but we will find out," you say as you lean over to give her a kiss.
Throughout both of your rookie seasons, the media watches you both closely. You because you have been on fire, consistently playing record-breaking games and carrying your team to victory, and Caitlin because she is changing the game.
Now that the two of you are closer, going to support each other has become much easier. Once Caitlin started in Indiana, she was at almost every one of your games - almost always supporting you from your manager's booth. You always joke with her that your manager loves her more than they do you. Every now and again she would be standing fieldside, out of the way of course. The media tore up any time she was standing on the field or seen talking with your manager. It would always be something about how Caitlin is such a great girlfriend coming out to support you. Or it would be how your GM has found a new person to watch their team with, having a picture attached with your GM and Caitlin laughing about something.
The posts and articles went both ways. You went to support Caitlin whenever you could which then put you in the spotlight. It was unexpected to both of you how much the media ate up your support for each other.
It was when you were watching an interview that Caitlin was in that it began to click.
"Caitlin - you are projected to be rookie of the year, how do you feel about that?" The interviewer asks.
"I think it's pretty awesome," she responds with a smile. "Just like the work I have put in during my college career to get here, I have put in the work this season to be up for rookie of the year."
"Well, it is quite impressive, if I must say," the interviewer compliments your girlfriend. "But what is also impressive is that your girlfriend is also up for rookie of the year."
Caitlin just smiles and nods. She could say a lot (she will rarely brag about herself but when it came to you, she could talk up a storm) but just sits and nods. To everyone watching - it was a proud girlfriend moment.
"Seeing you go and support each other at games, getting the posts of your post-game meals with one another, and all the talk about how each of your teammates has become great friends with you and her, you have become the ultimate power couple in the sports world." Caitlin doesn't blush easily but she’s blushing now. "How has becoming this power couple affected your relationship?"
"Well it is kind of funny - neither Y/n nor I have really seen much of what has been going on in the media with any of it," Caitlin says.
It was true - the two of you tried your best to stay out of looking into the media like that. You knew it wouldn't affect your relationship in the slightest but never really cared for what other people said about the two of you. Outside of supporting each other during games the two of you led a pretty private relationship.
"Well let me show you a slim snippet of what the fans are saying," the interviewer says as they start flashing photos of you on the screen. "There are endless fan edits of the two of you while you are watching each other games. What really got me was finding a fan account that has been following the two of you since your college years."
Pictures of the two of you from their account started flying across the screen. Photos going back in time - it was a neat way to reminisce on the past and how far you have come.
At the end of the slideshow is a picture from when you played in your final home game for your high school - senior night. It was a picture of you and two other girls heading to the captain's meeting in the middle of the field. In the photo, it is you and your co-captains looking down but if you looked over to the crowd - there is Caitlin, front row with some of her friends there to watch you play.
Caitlin remembers the moment as if it was yesterday. She debated going to that game for weeks before it happened. She didn't tell you she was coming to your senior night but brought you flowers and she gave them to you afterward. That was the night that you had Caitlin falling even harder than before - getting so excited when you saw her. Causing her heart to leap out of its chest when you dropped all of your stuff to pick her up and spin he around. Her stomach filled with butterflies and her cheeks turned a deep pink - the first time you made her blush.
"Yep, that's me," she says with a laugh, turning even more red than before. "You could say we were fans of each other long before we started dating.'
"Well, that is the cutest thing!" The interviewer says with such excitement. "We are all rooting for the two of you and can't wait to watch you both as you progress in your careers."
Later that night, you call Cait. She picks up the phone immediately.
"I know, I know," she says, already knowing what you are going to say.
"You are too cute when you blush," you say with a little laugh.
"Ugh stop babe," she says laughing as well. "Did you hear when they called us the ultimate power couple?"
"I did," you say full-on laughing now. "It is crazy to see how many people are invested in our relationship."
You hear her hum in agreement, but she doesn't say anything.
"Hey babe, is everything okay?" You ask, worried that this is all starting to get to her. You know Caitlin doesn't follow the media like that but you wouldn't blame her if she fell down the rabbit hole after that interview. I mean, you did.
It wasn't intentional but after you watch the interview, curiosity got the best of you and you started looking at some accounts. Most of it was sweet - pictures and comments of how the world is cheering you on but with being in the spotlight more, there were also more people who used the platform to tear you down. It really didn't affect either of you - at least when people talked about yourselves. But you knew when people start talking bad about you on her posts, she gets caught up in her head about how hateful the world can be.
It takes her a minute but after what feels like a lifetime, she responds.
"You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing," she starts, causing your heart to swell. She begins to stumble on her words. "I - just thank you." She says. "Thank you for being so amazing not only to me but to the world. I can't wait until you begin your off-season and move here with me so we can finally be together. Then when you go back, and I am off, I will come and live with you and everything will be right in the world and we will get a dog and start planning our wedding and both be living out our dreams."
She pauses and you take a sharp inhale. The two of you haven't really talked about marriage - if you were being honest, you had no idea that was even on Caitlin's radar. It was on yours but you never wanted to rush her.
"What was that last part?" You ask slowly.
"Us living out our dreams?" She asks, knowing it is not what you are talking about.
"No right before that..." you say as it feels like time has stopped. The only other time you have felt this with her is the first game you played against her. She had been one of the only other players who could keep up to you and you let her know that after. Whispering the compliment in her ear and watching her react to your touch had stopped time for you.
"Start planning our wedding...?" Caitlin says extremely slowly. You are hooked on every single word she says as she repeats that.
"Caitlin Clark, are you asking me to marry you?" You say jokingly but also dripping with genuine interest.
"You are just going to have to wait to find out," she says and you can hear the smirk that has grown on her face.
Little did you know that Caitlin already had the ring. She knew she was going to marry you after you picked her up and spun her around on your senior night. It only solidified when the two of you started dating in college and were there to support one another during your sporting events but also just with life in general. Having you by her side wasn't an option. You pushed her to be better than she could have ever imagined. You brought her out of her head when no one else could. You let her be herself unapologetically and she couldn't imagine a more perfect person.
"Well just know, if you get down on one knee at either of our award ceremonies, I will say no." You say, trying to play it cool when your heart is beating faster than it does on the field.
Caitlin laughs and you join in, longing for the days when you can have these conversations face to face.
AN: I hope this does the request justice. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍
#caitlin clark#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark imagine#caitlin clark masterlist#caitlin clark concepts#iowa hawkeyes#wnba
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Genshin Men on the Dancefloor
Story: You have been begging him to go clubbing with you for ages. Even though it was not the usual way for you to spend your free time, it was an exciting idea to change scenery and see him dancing. Hopefully.
Characters: Wriothesley, Childe/Tartaglia
TW: When I am in a good mood I write stuff like this. Sorry in advance. Just fun.
Wriothesley
"I am going to stay here and watch you." Wriothesley resisted your tug towards the dancefloor while pointing at the bar.
"No, you promised. And promises are meant to be what?"
"Fine." He rolled his eyes while smiling. "Can I have at least one drink?"
"Sure!" You grinned knowing deep down that he would enjoy it.
After a short while of chatting at the bar with your drinks, it was finally time.
"Let´s go!" You jumped down from your high seat when you swallowed the last drops of your beverage.
"Why are you so eager?" He laughed as you made your way through the crowd.
"I have never seen you dancing!" You shouted in the loud space.
The music was perfect so you started dancing the moment you hit the dance floor.
Wriothesley's moves were careful, shy. His tempo was out of beat as he was stuck to your body using you almost like a shield. But after a few songs, his confidence rose and suddenly the dancefloor was all his. Everyone was eyeing this big guy throwing hands, shaking his hips like it was his last night on Earth.
“Can we go back?” Wriothesley asked you the moment you left the building.
“Now? No!” You squealed. “Next week? Please? I do not feel my feet anymore.”
“Ok, no problem. But I feel like staying there until morning.” He smiled, wrapping you into his jacket.
“I know.” You frowned. “What have I done…”
Childe
He was the one that invited you to go out dancing. There is nothing that you would not experience with him, but dancing? No matter how hard you thought about it, you could not recall seeing him dance.
Childe always knew how to party. The whole night was filled with laughter. All that running around the city made you feel like a teenager again, leaving all your problems behind. After settling at your final destination, you have something to drink and cuddle in the dark corner of the bar. Until…
“That is my favorite song!” Childe jumped up. “Come on!”
He dragged you onto the dancefloor and immediately got into the groove of the late-night dancing. You could not believe your eyes. The man you have known for years, who shared every dark secret with you was hiding dance moves like these?
“Who are you?!” You laughed.
“The best you have ever had!” He shouted back and kissed you while moving like a dancing queen.
After a few songs, he suddenly bumped into you.
“Ouch! Keep that pointy elbow away from me.” You frowned as the light pain went through your body.
“Sorry girlie, I will take care of you after I deal with this…”
But before he could finish the sentence he got punched right in the face.
“Hey!” You shouted at a stranger who hit your boyfriend.
“That is ok, leave him for me.” Childe smiled with a swollen half of his face.
You were almost used to these kinds of situations so you left the dancefloor and sat by the bar. Everyone was gathered around the dancefloor as you had your drink patiently waiting for your man to finish his games.
After a moment someone placed a hand on your lower back.
“All done.” Childe smiled at you.
When you found yourself on the empty street, you finally asked him.
“What has he done?”
“He bumped into me. Ruined my whole choreography.” He shook his head. “Idiot.”
“Oh. What a horrible human being.” You frowned.
“Him? Yes. Or me???!!”
“Let's just go home.” You rolled your eyes.
“You are so done with me.” He laughed. “But you love me. Right?”
You chuckled as you handed him a tissue for his bleeding eyebrow.
#genshin#impact#genshin impact#fanfiction#fanfic#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesely x you#tartaglia#childe#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x you#childe x you
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She's not your girl
Summary: Zayne's girlfriend's platonic / one-sided relationships with Xavier and Rafayel
Mood: Pining, melancholy, slight angst
Xavier - Ungranted Wish
She would be closer to Xavier than Rafayel, mainly due to proximity. She and Xavier would game together after work or hang out at the arcade, with her teaching him strategies for the crane game. Xavier would spill upwards of $100 each visit thanks to his insistence that he "almost had it", but in reality, he just wants to prolong his time with her, and give her the opportunity to play as much as she wants
They’re at the arcade so often and they seem so comfortable with each other that the staff even start to think that they’re dating. It’s only when she gets a text from Zayne telling her that he’s finished work that the illusion is shattered. For both the staff and for Xavier, who flashes her a weak smile of understanding and regret when she takes off the moment she sees Zayne’s car pull up
"It’s okay," Xavier tells himself. Whenever Zayne works long nights, she’ll be at his place again and they can game or watch movies together until they both fall asleep on the couch. Whenever Zayne lets her down, Xavier will be there to pick her up again
Even though her heart doesn’t belong to him, being able to spend so much time with her is enough
After all, out of everyone in her life, he’s the one she spends the most time with. They’re together all work day and sometimes even all night
It only hurts when he calls out to her, asking what she wants to eat or what game she wants to play, only to see her texting Zayne on her phone with a smile so full of love and joy, a smile that would never be aimed at him
Rafayel - Burned by Ice
Rafayel has her by his side because he pays her to. Not a minute more, not a minute less. She’s there to do a job. That’s what he asked of her, right? So why does he always hope that she would see him any differently one day?
At the very least, she takes the job seriously, so while she’s on the clock with Rafayel, her phone is on silent. He’d try to impress her with his talents because of course she’d praise him, just like all the art critics around the world. But she’s no art critic. She’s a hunter. The only art she creates is the blood splatters left behind by the wanderers she's slaughtered
So when he presents her with a glorious painting of the little red fish that brought them together, surrounded by sunlight shining through the sparkling blue water, all she has to say is “...Nice fish”
Ah. The flames inside him would instantly be snuffed out, replaced by an icy grip on his heart. Even though he’s never met Zayne, he could feel his presence whenever he’d try to win her over, if only a little bit. Zayne’s girl wears his influence like a shield, rendering her immune to Rafayel's charms that usually wowed so many women so easily. The worst part isn't that she rejected him time and time again. It's that she doesn't even realize she's doing it
She’d look so innocently confused at how heartbroken Rafayel is when she gives him her praise of the painting, thinking it would have made him happy. But the artist would just brush it off and put the painting off to the side with the others instead of giving it to her. He’d have to try harder
The only time he ever feels a little close to her is when he'd annoy her enough to get a rise out of her. "You're acting like a child," he'd tell himself. "You're acting like a child," she'd admonish him
If acting like a brat got her to see him as something more than just another source of income, he'd take it. After all, she looks so cute when her face would scrunch up in annoyance whenever he'd find a new nerve to poke
But in the back of his mind, he'd wonder just how long he could push his luck before she finally quits and he'd never see her again. He'd have to find a way to win her over before he loses her forever
#just thinking about how im so invested in the crane game when it’s with zayne but i just let raf and xav play while im not paying attention#I actually have no idea what angst is anymore so I threw in “slight angst” in case I crossed over into angst territory lmao#a two for one scenario this time#love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#scenarios#when zayne isn't in a scenario but he's still everywhere in it
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Voices of the Void AU
When Pyrrha first got her degree she imagined her job would be more worthwhile; something that she can be extremely proud of that will make leaps and bounds in her fields of work. That’s the reason she worked her ass off for the degree in the first place. Yet here she is, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere eating a pack of instant ramen all alone at night, hundreds of miles away from any other human.
When they told her she was going to be pretty isolated from society the redhead didn’t know they meant in the middle of a deep forest where the only source of companionship she had were deer and a stray cat that roamed around. The loneliness isn’t even worst things about this entire job though. Granted, the loneliness is terrible but it’s not the worst.
It’s the silence.
There’s no TV, radio, game, basically anything to occupy her during any downtime. Not even any books or newspaper to distract her from the deafening silence that surrounds her entire life now. The redhead actually picked up the habit of talking to herself just to fill the room with some sort of sound that isn’t just the occasional buzzing of one of the machines. This lab is slowly draining her sanity.
The lab in question was a complete wreck when she first arrived too, and it took an entire week just to make it hospitable. Well, as hospitable as a prison that is. Still beats the complete state it was in when she first arrived though. Pyrrha has no idea how the place became such a mess, but she does know that the last person who was stationed here nearly went insane from isolation and probably had some sort of episode that caused them to destroy the place. 2 months into the job and Pyrrha really can’t blame them. Although, the thought of possibly following in their footsteps makes the job even more demanding despite the job itself being pretty bare boned.
All Pyrrha really does for her work is collect signals that are from space while occasionally fixing satellites. Easy on paper, terrible in action since you’re all by yourself with nothing but your thoughts and occasional paranoia. The signals in question aren’t really interesting either. They take a long time to download and when you listen to them it’s mostly just static, loud noises or the ever so interesting deafening silence of space.
“What a fulfilling career.” She quietly said to herself as she taps her finger on the desk. “Graduated at the top of my class for this.” The degree hanging on her wall seems to be completely useless to her at the moment. Just a visible reminder what she studied her whole life for isolation and silence. She blew a raspberry in frustration.
Although today was, at the very least, somewhat interesting since she did got a semi out of the ordinary signal this morning that she is currently refining to make it more clear. Over the loud static it partially sounded like something was speaking, but since it’s in the human nature to try and find patterns in things, this isn’t really anything to go on without further proof. In fact, this isn’t even the first signal that sounded like something was speaking. So she’s not exactly that excited over this whole ordeal, but at least it’s better than most of the signals she finds. Doesn’t make the burning glare from her diploma go away though. If it could laugh at her then it would.
A beep alerted the redhead to the machine to her right. After several hours the signal is finally refined and ready to be played. She slurped up the noodles hanging from her mouth before putting the container on the table. Pyrrha then stood and nearly stumbled from being light headed. Sitting down for hours on end isn’t really that good for your body and standing up quickly doesn’t really help either. She really has to get outside more often. Maybe she’ll fix some of the satellites in the morning to get some exercise.
With a quick motion, Pyrrha removed the signal from the machine and placed it into the computer to her left, which plays back every single signal that she finds. One pressed button later and it started to play. Again, this isn’t the first thing she found that sounded suspicious. An unrefined signal is barely hearable over all of the loud static, and occasionally you’ll might hear something in it since your brain is probably slowly going insane from the lack of any communication at all. So the redhead’s hopes weren’t exactly high at the moment.
That soon changed pretty fast though when the signal played. It sounded strange and out-worldly, which is normal for her job since she’s is quite literally listening to things that are possibly millions of light years away; but this one is different. It sounded…..it sounded like something is speaking. She can’t make out what they were saying but the more she listened to it the more it becomes obvious that this isn’t one of her normal signals. Sitting up from her chair and scooting closer to the computer, she listened closely. Maybe she finally went insane and is hearing voices now?
“It’s going to be a downward spiral, isn’t it?” She thought to herself. “First I’m going to hear voices, then I’m going to trash the place like the other guy and get placed in a room with mattresses for walls….still homier than this lab though.”
Although the more she listened the less she believed it was all in her head. This is pretty clear honestly. She can’t really make out what it’s saying, but it still there, hidden behind slight static. Something is trying to communicate or at the very least just trying to speak. Almost as if it’s speaking some sort of English but horribly. Nothing it’s saying is coherent.
Pyrrha closed her eyes and listened hard, trying to see if she can recognized anything at all. A single word would be huge for her work. A giant breakthrough honestly, making the entire silent hell she was tormented to worth it completely. No longer will her degree hang there on the wall mockingly like a smudge.
And then finally it happened. She recognized something. A single word from this entire signal that is more clear than anything else on it. But the word itself baffled her since she doesn’t understand why it’s being relayed to her in the first place. She rewinded the audio and replayed it. Then rewinded it again afterwards and play it once more. Rewind repeat, rewind repeat, rewind repeat. She did this for 5 minutes and each time that word pierces though the gibberish like a knife. It’s like listening to a foreign language and in the middle of a sentence they randomly say an English word.
“What the heck?” Pyrrha mumbled to herself as she stands up, deciding to move even closer to the computer just to make sure that she was in fact hearing what she was hearing. “Is this a random radio signal or something?”
The distinct word she heard was beautiful…..
*MEANWHILE*
Saphron couldn’t help to chuckle at her brother. Poor guy was really struggling with this, not that she can blame him. Humans are weird creatures that have multiple form of languages on their planets, which is pretty unheard of for the rest of the galaxy. Doesn’t help that the language in question is pretty confusing in the first place that is full of inconsistencies. Like how the hell doesn’t tomb and bomb rhyme? It make sense. Who even made this stupid language.
Regardless of the dumb language, her brother is trying his damndest to get his message across to some female human that he’s trying to woo. She doesn’t even know how he found her in particular out of the billions of people who live on the planet, especially since she’s seem to be completely isolated from everyone else on the planet. Yet he somehow he saw her and immediately fell hard. Although he’s kinda doing a terrible job at speaking since he seems to be butchering the already butchered language. She doubts anyone would be able to decipher anything he’s saying; he practically invented a new language at this point. Although, he seems to have the word ‘beautiful’ down pretty well.
“Will you stop snickering and just try to help me?!” His brother groaned, causing her to snicker louder.
“Okay, fine. You’re not speaking clear enough.” Saphron instructed. “Speak more clearly, and more confidently too. You’re like a dead fish right now. No human girl would want that.”
“A dead what?”
Saphron sighs. “You know Jaune, how are you expecting to even talk to this human woman if you don’t even know the basic things about this planet?”
“I’ll get to that part later! Don’t rush me!” “Jaune groaned out, rolling his eyes. “Can’t you just tutor me on English more! Please!”
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um umm. imagine giving prowl a hello/good morning kiss but hes not fully awake or his mind is somewhere else so later in the day he goes into some kind of meeting with a lipstick stain on his face.. when he finally realizes he hunts u down to Glare at you and demands you clean it bc its your fault (he just wants an excuse for physical contact oops
side note thank u for feeding us all with all ur lovely work. 5 stars
🥺 aww thank you anon. that's so sweet of you pookie. glad you're enjoying my writings!! gobbles up the five star from the palm of your hand
Okay but that's is such a cuteee scenario oh my gosh I can't help but to write a little mini-fic this (a little incoherent I just woke up snskkdkj)
—PROWL'S snuggled up to your side. Even when he's sleeping, a gentle scowl is present on his face. And, the arm curled around your torso is almost like a metal bar, preventing you escape. For now, he's too tired to keep up appearances. Last night's report consisted of him re-writing the expense protocols and it is not a task an hour would suffice.
He came back sluggish and very much irritated. In the darkness of the room, alighted by the mere blue-ish flare of the moonlight, Prowl stands before your bed as a looming shadow. You recalled wheezing when he simply collapsed on top of you, immediately going limp after.
So, when you shift in the bed — it was almost time for work — he was all but annoyed : his bundle of warmth isn't going anywhere when he's got so comfortably snug, so he pits you close to his chassis, grumbling.
"No."
"No? Prowl. I've got work."
"It can wait." He murmered lazily, nose chasing for the warmth between the crook of your neck and shoulder. And, when he did — a little purr-like rumble thrummed from his chassis.
You blink. He's slurring in his sleep? Guess, even the strategic officer isn't immune to sleepy mumbles. With a playful smile, you cup his face plates, leaning in to kiss his cheek, lingering a little bit on the sensitive spot on his neck then the crook of his nose.
Subconsciously, Prowl leans forward, likely expecting a kiss on his lips but with an index on his forehead, you push him away gently.The peach cream lipstick stains the areas you've assaulted. But, hey. At least he knows who's stalling who, this lovely morning.
—
WHILE he's fixing up the last of his documents, Prowl can feel the stares churning through his back. He's got it ever since he walked into that damn room. Obviously, nobody is going to agree with the new 'protocols' he administered. Especially, the younger mechs. But the meeting had just finished, so what's with the staring? Why are they staring?
"Uh, Prowl?"
"What?" He clips and slams the briefcase shut.
When he whirled around, a biting chassis fervent on his tongue, he's greeted with the sight of the bug, smiling in amusement. Great. The scout.
"I don't know what game you're playing at And, likely, i'd rather not know." Prowl seethes. "But I suggest you cut it out."
As usual, he's not the most brightest mech, this morning.
"Alright, then." He shrugs with his servos up placatingly. "But I gotta say, though. Peach does suit you well. Always thought it'd be rouge red or magenta pink. Guess, I was wrong."
"Excuse me?"
"Not that it's bad. It's not bad, trust me." The scout grins. " I just didn't peg you as the type to wear make-up...."
—
"And, the generator?"
"Ah, yes. That." You scanned the clipboard, nitpicking the many stacks and stacks of paragraphs for a certain information. This, that, this and — "All stabilized, sir."
"Good work." He pats your shoulder. "Debrief in a few hours — I need the new recruits some time to understand the proceedings. Meanwhile, go have lunch. I won't keep you any longer."
"Understood."
With that your Supervisor had left. Dawdling a second longer flipping through the pages, you swivelled around. When you rounded the corner, still buried in your clipboard —
You feel cold metal curling round your wrists. And, you're suddenly pushed up against the wall.
"You." Prowl leans in, scowling.
You grin. "Oh? Good morning to you, too." .
"Clean it."
"Just a simple swipe of a napkin could do the job, prowl."
The grip on your wrist loosens and a servo clamps over your waist. His expressing, though, isn't unrelenting of a frown. "That's the thing, mouse — you inflicted this on me. So, you take care of it."
You raise a brow. "Sure, this isn't some kind of demand guised in the form of something else?"
Prowl doesn't say anything, expression all the more pinched and irritated — but the slight parting of his lips was telling.
You teetered on your tiptoes, hands on his shoulder plates and leaned up to kiss his cheek — the exact same spot you left a mark, this morning.
Prowl loosens visibly and turned away to hide the flare of warmth on his faceplates. Not without grumbling under his breath, of course.
If he wasn't so handsome when he's mad, you're not sure why you tolerate his crass attitude at all. If anything, he's like a cat that claws at you with every chance he gets — then begging for affection, later.
"If you wanted another kiss, you could've asked."
#thanks for the ask anon!!#*smooches you gently*#transformers#maccadam#transformers x reader#transformers idw#ikkoasks#idw prowl#prowl x reader
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I just drop this here.
#this man has my heart#or at least what is left of it after this game#might draw the others or not will see#a plague tale#a plague tale: requiem#arnaud malpart#arnaud the knight#plague tale arnaud#fanart#art#digital art#my art#aritst on tumblr
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ageswap au made by @tenretsuzan on twitter! there's a brief explanation beneath the readmore
your name is hikari ku, age 30. you were banished from your home nation of ku at a young age and led a failed rebellion against your treacherous brother, laid low by a harsh betrayal.
"even if it means harnessing this darkness... i will see my country freed from war."
marred by scars left by your once erstwhile friends and plagued by a darkness that grows uncontrollable, you grasp onto the small hope that you may one day reclaim your nation once more...
-
your name is temenos mistral, age 21. you led a peaceful life in flamechurch until one day your brother disappears after leaving you with an ominous message about the church.
"roi... what could have led someone like you down a path like this?"
despite your father's protests, you follow after his footsteps in hopes of uncovering his whereabouts, as well as the church's secrets that forced his departure...
#satsuhart#temehika#octo2#their goals are still the same it's just at different times#if you think about it hikari's rebellion would realistically take at least a few years lol#but this is after he tries to fight mugen but ends up being betrayed by both ritsu and rai mei and has to retreat to find another way#being alone and significantly less hopeful about his situation he starts leaning into his shadow more and more#temenos' is just a matter of... what if he went after roi immediately instead of choosing to stay#tldr its the 'im gonna fuck that old man' temehika au (30 isnt old but 21y/o teme thinks it is)#yeah teme looks the same but whatever. the light has not left his eyes#also fun(?) fact the english ingame descriptions of each char removed the ages#i can get why because saying 'you are x and you are a 21 year old warrior' sounds a little awkward in eng#but its also like. why i wonder if this is the reason people are way more weird about some of the ages#bc they werent told anytime within the game#meanwhile any jp player immediately going 30 YEARS OLD? 20? 18??? yeah u know who im talking about
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i really like tumblr bc despite its reputation i get way less annoying people being clowns on my posts
on tiwtter i can mention literally anything i dont like about totk and you bet theres some guy that either gets really salty about me not worshipping the game like a god that can do no wrong or straight up get mad about what they IMAGINED i said
#ganondoodles talks#thankfully its not many#but still more than here#and yes i block people over that bc i dont need a clown spamming my notifications#“sounds like you just want more content”#HUH#they added TWO more map layers but me saying they could have left the shrines or titans models in the game is asking for too much more???#the shrines/titans where ALREADY IN THERE just leave them in there and slap a green moss texture on it#me saying hey wouldnt this be cool to do with the titans after they stop funtioning is demanding more content#but ah yes id love colelcting even mroe than a thousand krog seed or hundreds of mayoi signa or 15 copies of the same vaguely dif link oufi#i dont need to have 500 options of items to glue to my arrows#making me scroll endlessly to find the item i need#im fine with 5 actually#soemtimes less is more#i want to bite some people#and i wish i had the confidence some of these have#just going on other peoples posts and loudly blaring in their face of what they think you said but 100% didnt#at least have the courtesy of making your own post to complain isntead of yelling it in my face#what do you think it will do?#lol#anyway#thanks for being much more bearable tumblr#ily <3
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"if you fancy Astarion, you might want to consider therapy. He's so damaged I must have him! Enjoy the fantasy and then call a therapist. It's a two step thing and it's very important you do both." - Amelia Tyler what do your narrator eyes see? 😂😂😂
#ohohooooohoo the little random tidbits devs and voice actors have dropped about his companion arc is making me NERVOUS#just throwin out some meta thoughts here#in order for astarion to *get rid of* the tadpole; cazador *has* to die first. like i'll bet my left tit this is conditional#since cazzy is apparently a control freak he might be enemies w the mindflayers/absolute cult bc ''bleh bleh my city''#i think its entirely possible that we could ally w cazador against the absolute; this would like have to result in astarion attacking tav#im just worried it might be like; you have to at least temporarily side w the absolute if you kill cazzy?#idk! idk!#and like i do think there will probably be a 3rd option of like 'i hate both these groups kill them both' but man.#and then there's whatever is going on w his ''this soul is not for sale except in the realm of the undead'' stamp#like are we gonna have to go the there? wherever the fuck that is?#pls amelia i am begging on my knees i need a sign! of hope!#bc now the hug and hand holding in the trailer is making me think larian is trying to trick me into believing he'll be okay#only to hit me with a devastating ending(s) no matter what#idk. man. i read astarion's writer was fanes writer. idk dos2 but like i am aware of what......happened w that 'romance'#pls i need a sign larian#i am so sick of the bioware style romances! the morrigans! the solases ! the unresolved endings of it all! ENOUGH#i want closure from this i am begging#for once in my life i just want closure for a video game romance ending#i JUST THINK LIKE ideally. for me. he'd have at least 1 ending where he's not cured but lives happily ever after*#i am having a hard time picturing him cured of vampirism. tbh. but if it's possible without him immediately dying then. well hats off#its 2 AM here i need to knock it tf off and go to bed#........unless.....yall want to enable me and discuss this further#i am 1 more bad day away from writing a thesis on this in MLA format istg
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Hinted at Zenyatta lore that makes me go rabid
#Overwatch#Zenyatta#Ramattra#Reflections#I feel like I feel like I FEEL LIKE these are story boards for a cinematic we haven't seen in full yet#They had some high quality concept art of Pre-Shimbali Zen like#I FEEL LIKE we're gonna get more on this like a LOT more#At LEAST another video#In or out of game I'm so curious#I want to know what happened where did Zen come from who was he before Ramattra before the Shimbali before he almost died#you know I haven't reblogged it in a long time but y'all know that character analysis about how weakily built Zenyatta is#what if what if what if what if#that's all that's really left of him after this#He wasn't BUILT poorly he was beaten to near death and lost a lot of him armoring#That's why he's so much smaller than other Omnics with so much more exposed wiring and joints#Y'ALL#LISTEN LOOK LOOK LISTEN TO ME#jkgfdjgkdfkjgjkfd#shaking shaking I want to see it I want to see the Zenyatta backstory I wish to know it all
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