#Or will it be that she'll cease to be and it's just her body now and our MC is left to properly give her a buriel 🥺?....

[cutie-pinay]

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you [x]

Having this song on repeat really got me thinking how Sen's gonna meet her end in the story....For sure it's gonna be bittersweet and I will not be prepared 😭!!

[sweetpeaaquarius]

I'm new to your site and have only read a few of your stories so far, but I liked them all. You write really beautifully and portray the characters very well. So I just have to make a request. About Azriel (love your latest Az fic 😍) My idea is that Azriel has given up on finding someone and doesn't want to get involved with anyone anymore because he's afraid she'll eventually get a mate. But then he finally found her, his mate. and also the Inner Circle is so happy for him (they noticed how alone Azriel was sometimes) and are also totally enthusiastic about her. the request would be a good mix of angsty and fluffy. And maybe some spice in the end where she shows him her dark side and what shows the IC that they will not have peace any time soon. because they are kinky🤭

His to Lose

Pairing: Azriel x Mate f!reader

Summary: Azriel has long accepted solitude as his constant, letting shadows guide him instead of hope. A routine mission, meant to be simple, becomes anything but when an unexpected encounter challenges everything he thought he knew about control, connection, and himself. As lines blur and the bond deepens, he finds himself slipping into the role of being a mate before either of them are ready to claim it.

Warnings: nsfw, smut,  teasing, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, emotional vulnerability,  slow burn romance, gentle angst (focus on self-worth), jealousy, flirty flighting, touch-starved Azreil

Word count: 11,440

Series: His to Lose - Part 1, Part 2

Author’s Note: One word: Obsessed. I spent two full days writing, rewriting, and rereading this nonstop until my brain turned to mush. I truly hope I captured your request the way you imagined, because I completely fell in love with this piece. There’s still a part of me that thinks I could’ve done it better, but here it is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved creating it!

Azriel had long given up on finding his mate, the one soul destined by fate to match his own. 

He had spent centuries praying to the Mother, to gods and forgotten goddesses, pleading for his other half. For a sign. For something.

He searched. He waited. He hoped.

After Morrigan, after Elain, after Gwyn, all of whom had found their paths, their peace, their purpose without him, he ceased hoping.

He couldn’t keep doing it.

Now, all he had were shame-tinted memories. A blur of encounters, mouths, hands, eyes that never looked past the surface. Fleeting touches that felt wrong. Distractions he couldn’t even pretend brought comfort.

False hope, dressed in sweat and shadow.

Still, in the quiet hours, when the world was still and the silence crept in, he wondered.

Had he done something to deserve this?

Did a sin in a lifetime ago curse him to this ache?

To stand just outside of joy, always watching and always aching.

To be the one who craves, and never the one who is loved.

He’d imagined it sometimes, what it would feel like if the moment arrived. If the bond snapped into place, sudden and sure.

If someone entered his life not like a storm, but as a quiet gift. 

Someone who didn’t flinch at the silence. 

Who didn’t try to fix the shadows, but sat within them.

Who didn’t recoil from the pain, but saw it, and stayed.

He told himself he deserved this.

The silence.

The cold bed.

The hollow gazes from lovers who only wanted his title, his power, or a story to tell.

Not him. Never him.

He accepted it, the idea that he would always be alone.

Until he met her.

A mission that should have been forgettable, just decoding ancient wards, nothing more. 

The meeting point Rhys had chosen was quiet, tucked between shadowed cliffs. Azriel felt the familiar high of anticipation as his boots hit the ground.

Then he saw her.

The moment their eyes met across the clearing, something inside him stilled, and then shattered.

The bond didn’t click neatly into place. It struck like lightning. Made his body hum. Made his chest tighten, his heart stutter, his mind blur.

Her gaze softened. Her head tilted, just slightly.

She felt it too.

He wondered if it was as overwhelming for her, if her hands trembled like his did.

She stood there in her pale blue-grey robes, fabric softly billowing with the breeze. A priestess. Tasked with helping decode ancient wards carved into old Illyrian stone. Her eyes were deep, dark brown, like still water concealing centuries beneath its surface.

“My mate,” he whispered, voice trembling. “You’re my mate.”

She said nothing at first. Just stared at him. Her dark hair twisted into intricate braids that shimmered in the shadows of the forest.

She swallowed, straightened, and said, “We have an assignment.”

Azriel didn’t respond right away.

He just stood there, heart pounding in the silence she left between them. We have an assignment.

That was it. No recognition. No panic. No joy. No acknowledgment of the world-altering truth he’d just spoken aloud.

The shadows around him shifted, restless with the weight of it. He pushed them back. Pushed himself back, because she was right, there was an assignment, and she had given him no invitation to go further.

So he followed.

They moved in silence through the jagged cliffs, scanning the worn stone for sigils and wards carved into the rock, ancient magic pulsing just beneath the surface. She moved with a quiet grace, every motion efficient, her fingers trailing over glyphs like she was reading them through touch alone.

Azriel pretended to study the cliffs, but he watched her instead.

The way she tilted her head as she translated ancient Fae words.

The way she frowned when she found something out of place.

The way her power hummed beneath her skin was controlled, focused, and sharp.

He had known her for minutes, yet he knew her. Felt her like a second heartbeat. Like a truth he had waited centuries to hear.

She felt it too; he could see it in the way her eyes drifted to him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. In the way her sentences faltered, just slightly, when their gazes caught.

Still, she kept her distance. Professional. Measured. Cool, but not unkind. Cautious.

He understood, because if she felt even a fraction of what he did, then her world had just shifted beneath her feet. Whatever walls she’d built to survive, whatever life she’d carefully crafted with steady hands had changed.

So he gave her space. Offered silence, soft glances, and nothing more.

They worked until the last light of day stretched long across the warded stones. Golden sun poured like honey over the hills, and she moved with quiet efficiency, rolling up her notes, brushing her braid over one shoulder, already turning toward the path.

Azriel watched her for a long moment, then said softly, before he could think better of it. “Will you come back with me?”

She stopped and turned.

Her eyes met his, dark, unreadable in the fading light. Like deep water, still and ancient, and hiding something beneath the surface.

“To the House of Wind,” he said, clarifying. “Just for now. For safety. For rest. I won’t ask anything of you. I just…”

He faltered. His voice roughened.

“I don’t want you walking back to the temple alone. I don’t want you to be alone.”

She didn’t answer right away.

The silence stretched long enough for shame to creep in, for fear to grip his chest, for doubt to whisper that he’d overstepped.

“They talk about you,” she murmured. “The priestesses.”

Azriel said nothing. The silence stretched between them, taut and fraying.

“They call you the Shadowsinger.” Her voice was quiet, but it cut through him like steel wrapped in silk. “Say you don’t talk much, but you always get your message across.”

“Is that what you think I am?” he asked softly. “A message?”

She didn’t answer. Just turned, suddenly, like she couldn’t bear to stay in the space they’d created.

The last of the faelight blinked along the path, but the shadows clung to her, hungry and heavy, as she stepped into the trees.

“Wait,” he said, stepping forward. “Let me fly you there. That walk will take over an hour.”

She didn’t stop, but she slowed.

Her shoulders tensed, her steps faltered, but she didn’t turn back.

“I don’t need saving,” she said, the wind almost swallowed the words.

Azriel stood there, shadows curling at his feet, restless as caged wings.

He could have let her go, but the bond inside him was drawn taut as wire, strung across something sharp, ready to snap.

“I don’t want to save you,” he said, voice barely above a breath.

She stopped.

The forest held still.

“I just wanted to make sure you get there safe. That’s all.”

She turned then, slowly, just enough to glance at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were still hard, but something else flickered behind them, small and flickering.

“Fine,” she said, voice barely above the wind. “But no talking.”

Azriel’s heart splintered a little more.

“No talking,” he promised.

He held out his hand. She stared at it, hesitating, then brushed her fingers against his palm, uncertain, like they weren’t quite sure if they belonged there.

He gathered her gently, lifting her without a word.

The change in her was immediate. Her body went stiff, breath shallow and fast, hands gripping his shoulders, not out of closeness, but control. Fear.

Not of him.

Of this. Of flying. Of trusting. Of being this high above the ground with a stranger who claimed fate had tied them together.

Azriel didn’t speak. He shifted just enough to give her space, ensuring she didn’t feel trapped. His shadows curled behind her, soft and silent, like a net she didn’t realise she could fall into.

He flew slower than usual. Smooth. Controlled. Gliding through the currents rather than slicing through them.

Still, he felt her heartbeat hammering against his chest, fast and erratic.

“I won’t drop you,” he said quietly, eyes fixed ahead. “I promise.”

She didn’t respond.

Her face remained tucked against his chest, not for closeness, but necessity. Her breath still came uneven, and when a downdraft hit and they dipped slightly, she yelped, her nails digging into his leathers.

He held her a little closer.

They landed softly a few meters from the temple gates. Still, her arms stayed wrapped around him, like she couldn’t quite let go.

“You’re safe now,” he said, lowering her until her boots touched grass.

 She didn’t relax. If anything, she pulled back like his touch burned. Her spine went stiff again as she stepped away.

“Thank you,” she said, voice thin. 

She pushed hair from her face, adjusted the braid at her shoulder, then pulled the scroll of notes from her satchel and held it out to him.

“The High Lord will be pleased with the translation,” she said briskly. “Though there’s more. The context isn’t quite right. I think whoever inscribed these misrepresented their origin, ”

She began to ramble. Not nervously, not exactly.

Just fast.

As if the words were a shield, she knew how to wield.

Azriel let her. Let her talk, point at symbols, unfold parchment, but he wasn’t listening because somewhere along the way, he stopped looking at the parchment and started watching her mouth.

She noticed.

Her voice slowed. Her brow creased.

“You’re not listening,” she said, tone flat.

Azriel blinked once. “I think it’ll be easier if you told him yourself.”

She exhaled sharply. “You just want me to let you hold me again.”

He didn’t deny it.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I doubt you’d survive repeating the translation without butchering it.”

She stepped in close again.

Azriel lowered instinctively, his arms rising to meet her as she looped hers around his neck.

He held her more gently this time. Her breath caught at the thought of leaving the ground again, and her pulse was racing so quickly he could hear it.

One hand settled at the small of her back. The other cradled her head.

This time, he flew slower than before. Steadier. Every motion smooth, every beat of his wings deliberate.

She didn’t tremble, but he felt the tension in her bones.

The sky stretched deep and dark above them, moonlight pouring over the clouds like silver ink. Neither of them spoke.

The bond thrummed. Not demanding. Just present. Soft and pulsing between them like a new heartbeat.

At last, the House of Wind came into view. Ancient. Vast. Carved into the mountain like something sleeping and sacred.

“We’re almost there,” Azriel whispered.

She stirred, lifting her head just enough to glance over his shoulder. Azriel loosened his hold slightly, allowing her the space to shift and take in the sight of his home.

He felt it, the moment her breath caught.

The House shimmered like faelight sealed in crystal, casting soft gold across moonstone terraces and sweeping archways. Vines trailed from balcony railings, blooming even under the starlight. It was vast. Majestic. Terrifying.

She said nothing.

Azriel angled them toward the quietest landing, a small balcony off the library wing, far from the noise of the main halls. As they descended, her grip around his neck tightened. When her boots touched warm marble, she didn’t move.

Not at first.

He didn’t rush her. He simply waited, only stepping back when her arms finally dropped away.

She stood there in silence, eyes sweeping across the towering arches and spiral staircases, catching on every flicker of light and stretch of shadow like she expected something to leap out.

“This isn’t what I thought a fortress would be,” she murmured. “Cold. Brutal.”

“It is,” Azriel replied. “But it’s also my home.”

She didn’t answer. Just turned slowly, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

Then came footsteps.

She tensed beside him.

“It’s alright,” Azriel said, his voice low, steady. “It’s just the Inner Circle.”

“The Inner Circle,” she repeated, the words unfamiliar on her tongue.

It was Azriel’s moment to prepare her, to warn her about how overwhelming his family could be, but the footsteps were already growing louder.

Rhysand appeared first, tall and composed, power wrapped in elegance. Feyre walked beside him, calm and observant. Cassian followed, his smirk already forming.

Azriel shifted subtly in front of her, not to hide her, but to buffer her from their attention.

Rhys’s violet eyes swept over him, then settled on her. Recognition sparked.

“Azriel,” Rhys said slowly. “Who’s your friend?”

She peeked out from behind Azriel’s shoulder, and for a heartbeat, Rhysand’s expression sharpened.

“Oh. You’re Y/N, the priestess from the temple. The one helping with the transcriptions. Did something happen?”

“I am,” she replied, her voice clear but tight. She stepped forward and dipped into a low, practised bow. “We completed the transcription, but Azriel thought it would be better if I delivered the findings myself. Some of it is more complex than we expected.”

Azriel didn’t miss the tremor in her fingers or how she clutched the scroll, not just for the words it held, but because it was the only thing in this room that was familiar. Nor did he miss how his shadows hovered nearby, curling softly around her shoulders as if they knew she needed it.

Rhys nodded, casting Azriel a look that clearly said: We’ll talk later.

Aloud, the High Lord just smiled, smooth and welcoming. “Then let’s speak in my office. You’ll stay the night, of course. I’ll have a room prepared.”

She bowed again, this time to both Rhys and Feyre. “Thank you, my High Lord, and High Lady.”

“Please,” Rhys said gently. “Call me Rhys. This is my mate, Feyre.” He gestured to her, then to Cassian. “And that is Cassian.”

Azriel saw it coming the moment Cassian’s gaze flicked from her to him, then back again. That grin curling on his face, charming, reckless, meant only one thing.

Cassian smirked. “Hello, beautiful.”

She looked to Azriel instantly, seeking something. Reassurance. Permission. A shield.

Azriel’s voice cut in before she could answer, low and sharp. “Cassian.”

Cassian paused, then raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin stayed.

Only then did she move, stepping closer to Azriel as she followed them down the hall. Her grip on the scroll remained tight. Her posture was stiff, and every time Rhys glanced back, she flinched.

They reached the double doors of Rhys’s office. He opened them with a flick of power. As the shadows peeled away, she paused at the threshold and looked to Azriel.

A silent request.

Come with me.

He followed without hesitation.

Rhys, watching them closely, said nothing, but Azriel saw it, the glint of understanding in his eyes.

The doors shut with a soft thud behind them. Rhysand crossed the room and summoned chairs from the shadows with a wave.

“Please,” he said, gesturing.

Azriel didn’t sit, but she did, perched on the edge of the seat like it might vanish beneath her. She didn’t fidget, didn’t flinch, but Azriel saw it, the way she tucked her feet under her chair to anchor herself, the way her hand clutched the scroll like it was a shield.

Rhys waited patiently.

“I translated the western sigils along the cliff,” she began, voice low and even. “They’re more than wards. They tell a story. Fragmented, but intentional.”

Azriel stood beside her, hands clasped loosely behind his back. He wasn’t watching the scroll.

He was watching her.

The way her lips moved. The concentration in her eyes. How her fingers, stained with ink, traced each glyph with care and confidence.

Something about it made the bond hum low in his chest, insistent and steady, like it already knew what he wasn’t ready to admit.

With each line she spoke, her voice grew stronger. She forgot the room. Forgot who was listening. She just existed.

Brilliant. Unafraid.

She looked windswept, her braid loosening at the edges, skin kissed golden by sun and sky. Azriel’s hands twitched at the thought of touching her.

Rhysand asked a quiet question about the sigils, something about age, structure, or Court alignment.

She answered before he could finish. Eager.

“It predates the Courts,” she said, angling the scroll.“The structure is later, but the script is—Look here—”

Azriel stepped forward. Not for the scroll. For her voice.

“The symbol here,” she explained, “is mirrored in the fourth line of the southern wall’s carvings. It’s repeated, but the tense shifts. When that happens, the meaning changes, from protection… to memory.”

Azriel blinked. “Memory?”

Her head turned toward him. Caught off guard, a little breathless.

“Yes. It’s a mnemonic sigil. It only activates when remembered aloud or with intent. The magic is tied to remembrance. That’s the anchor.”

He nodded, though he barely heard the words. Her voice, measured, intelligent, full of quiet excitement, wrapped around him like a spell.

The bond tugged, a subtle pull beneath his ribs. His shadows drifted toward her. Not pressing. Just drawn.

“That’s rare magic,” Rhys said, intrigued.

“It’s forgotten magic,” she replied. “It wasn’t meant to last, but it did.”

Azriel nearly smiled, nearly reached for her.

Instead, he watched, shadows coiling low at his feet like they were fascinated, too. 

She turned back to the scroll, pointing at the glyphs, warnings of dormant power, spells that still dreamed beneath the stone. Magic that lingered like breath in the silence. Even Rhysand leaned forward, drawn in.

She was brilliant. 

So quietly brilliant that she didn’t seem to know it, and Azriel watched her like she had caught starlight in her hands and offered it to the world without hesitation. 

She was brighter than him, brighter than anyone he had ever known, and something like pride bloomed sharp in his chest, a feeling he didn’t quite know what to do with.

Her eyes flicked to him now and then, searching for something he couldn’t name. Something he feared he couldn’t give. 

Then it struck him how lovely she was. Not just in the way her hair caught the light or the way she smiled when she found something new in the scroll, but in the way she existed. Gentle. Steady. A comfort.

A comfort he didn’t deserve.

When she finally rolled the parchment closed, ink smudging her fingertips, her shoulders stiffened, as if she remembered where she was. Who was she speaking to.

She bowed again, softer. “I hope it was useful.”

Rhysand inclined his head, thoughtful. “More than. Thank you.”

She looked at Azriel then, her eyes searching his, uncertain and almost seeking approval. He stepped forward, feeling the bond stir faintly in his chest, a warmth he hadn’t deserved.

“You did perfectly,” he said, voice low.

She exhaled, just slightly.

Rhys looked between them, quiet and calculating. Azriel recognised that expression. He’d seen it on his brother’s face for centuries. It meant I know. This time, it was laced with something that made Azriel want to fade into shadow.

“There are more wards deeper in the Illyrian caves. You’ll keep working on them. Together," Rhys said calmly.

“Of course, my—” she caught herself, “Rhys.”

Azriel said nothing. He didn’t trust his voice, but he stayed close, his shadows brushing along her back, an instinct he couldn’t stop, a tether he didn’t understand.

“You’re welcome to stay here during the assignment,” Rhys said to her. “Everything you need will be made available. Azriel knows the libraries. I’ll inform your High Priestess that you’ve been reassigned, for as long as necessary.”

He turned to Azriel. “You’ll continue training the Valkyries with Cassian. Y/N, you're welcome to join if you choose.”

“My lord,” she said quietly, worry flickering behind her eyes, “there’s no need for all this…”

“I’m not demanding anything,” Rhys replied, kind but firm. “I’m offering. You’ve earned it. Think on it overnight.”

She hesitated. Her gaze shifted sideways, towards Azriel. She didn’t speak; she didn’t need to.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said quietly.

She exhaled slowly, tension slipping just slightly from her frame. 

“Thank you, Rhys,” she said quietly, stepping closer to Azriel without even realising it.

He opened the door and let her slip through. But before he followed, he caught Rhysand’s gaze. One glance. A look that said, “Be careful,” more than anything else.

The hallway was quiet, washed in soft golden light. Faelight drifted lazily overhead, glowing gently along the polished stone.

They walked in silence. She stayed beside him, shoulder to shoulder, her steps steady but uncertain, like someone testing the depth of still water before diving in.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t dare. His presence was all he could offer her, and even that seemed excessive. The bond softly pulsed, quiet but steady. He tried not to notice it. Not to want.

When he looked at her, he saw the exhaustion deep in her eyes, not just tiredness but years of shrinking herself, contained, as if safety was always conditional.

The House opened a door near the end of the hall.

“Your room,” he said softly. “Mine’s down the hall. If you need anything...” He cleared his throat. “Just knock. Dinner will be ready soon. I can walk you down.”

She paused in the doorway, eyes fixed on the candlelit room, then turned to him.

“Stay?” she asked, barely more than a whisper.

Azriel’s heart hammered in his chest.

“Of course,” he said.

The room was quiet and peaceful. A breeze lifted the gauzy curtains at the balcony doors. She walked slowly, her fingers brushing the wood and velvet, then sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap.

Azriel hovered near the doorway, wings folded close. His shadows were steady now, circling his ankles like guards protecting him from the fear of rejection.

“I don’t mean to keep you,” she said, her voice careful. Hesitant.

“You’re not,” Azriel replied, gentler than before. “I wouldn’t have stayed otherwise.”

She nodded, but he saw the flicker in her hands, the nervous curl of her fingers.

A pause.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

He nodded.

“You’re the spymaster. The shadowsinger.” Her brow furrowed. “I’ve heard stories, but what does that actually mean?”

He exhaled slowly, stepped into the room, and settled into the chair across from her.

“It means I hear things others don’t. I see what people try to hide. I go where I’m needed, even when no one wants to admit the need is there.”

She watched him closely.

“It sounds lonely,” she said.

Azriel looked away, jaw tightening, his heart pounding harder in his chest.

“It is,” he admitted. “But it’s the only place I’ve ever fit. Sometimes it’s easier to be the ghost in the room than the one trying to be seen. They understand that I need the shadows to feel like I belong.”

“Like Rhysand.”

Azriel nodded. “And Cassian. Feyre. Mor. They’re my family.” 

His eyes drifted back to her. The question caught in his throat, clumsy and uncertain, but he asked anyway, “You avoided looking at Rhys tonight. Was it him or his power?”

She paused.

“Both,” she whispered. “He reminded me of what I’ve tried to forget. That sort of power isn’t always kind.”

Azriel leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Rhysand is many things, but cruel isn’t one of them. Still, I understand. Power has teeth. Even when it means well.”

She nodded slowly, then was quiet for a moment, her gaze falling to the floor. 

When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible, and she seemed to be considering her words carefully before she spoke. 

“Are you angry with the Mother?”

Azriel blinked, his normally carefully neutral expression shifting, confusion, then concern softening his features.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his chest tightening with each breath.

“That I’m your mate,” she said, still watching her feet swing gently from the edge of the bed. “A stranger.”

Silence followed the end of her sentence. 

A sharp, sudden fury flared in Azriel’s chest. Not at her, but at the thought that she believed she was unworthy of him.

He let out a low, bitter laugh, a cold sound that made her lift her head, startled, meeting his eyes at last.

“I have prayed to the Mother for my mate for centuries,” he said, voice rough, almost trembling. “And now that I’ve met you, I want to fall to my knees and thank her. The Cauldron. The Mother. You.”

Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but no words came, just a stillness.

“You’re not a stranger,” he said, voice gentler now. “You’re mine.”

The bond shimmered between them, an invisible tether, but undeniable like a heartbeat echoing through them both.

“I don’t need time to believe that,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll give you as much of it as you need.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy, something fragile and unspoken flickering within them. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A soft bell chimed through the quiet room.

“Dinner’s ready,” Azriel said, reluctantly breaking the moment.

“Should I change?” she asked, glancing down at the fitted robes that clung to her like a second skin.

Azriel’s eyes followed her movement. His shadows curled tighter around him, as if they too noticed how easily she’d settled into his space. How quickly she’d become the only thing in it.

“No,” he said, eyes snapping back to hers. “You look beautiful.”

Her lips parted again, surprise, maybe, or something deeper. Then she turned, catching a glimpse of herself in the vanity’s mirror and froze.

A horrified sound escaped her throat. “You were going to let me meet the inner circle looking like this?”

Azriel blinked. “Like what?”

She spun toward the bathing chamber, hands flying to the wind-tossed braids tangled atop her head. “Like a half-blown thistle in the middle of a storm,” she muttered. “Cauldron boil me—”

He followed, lingering in the doorway as she fumbled at the intricate, now-messy braids. Her hair, a rich, silky brown, had loosened into chaotic waves that still somehow managed to look radiant, and still, she scowled at it.

“Azriel,” she said, and his name on her lips felt like a blessing. He straightened. Every nerve ending alive.

“Help me.”

It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Clear. Firm. Completely unfazed by the fact that they were barely more than strangers.

He stepped behind her as she leaned forward over the marble vanity. His hands, glowing faintly with blue siphon light, reached toward her hair.

The strands slid between his gloved fingers like silk. He tried to focus on the knots, the soft, silky feel of the strands, anything but the way her scent now surrounded him, soft, wild, and maddeningly sweet, like wildflowers after a storm.

She stilled beneath his touch. Slowly, unknowingly, she began to lean into it.

He worked with delicate precision, fingers grazing the nape of her neck as he unravelled each braid. Her breath hitched once so softly it could’ve been imagined, but then she bit her lip, as if catching a sound before it could escape.

His jaw tightened.

She didn’t step back. Didn’t flinch. Instead, she sighed softly, reluctant, as his fingers brushed through the last few strands.

He lingered.

Just a moment too long.

Then she stepped back, lifting her hood, hair now cascading in soft waves down to her waist. She studied her reflection in the mirror, satisfied.

Azriel didn’t move. Couldn’t.

She shifted slightly, catching his gaze in the mirror, and there it was again, that quiet, unspoken look, as if she’d already lived inside his bones long before they’d met.

His voice was low, reverent. “You’re… breathtaking.”

She said nothing, but her eyes softened, like maybe she would’ve said the same.

Somehow, it seemed like they’d done this a hundred times before, stood like this. Touched like this. As if the bond had always been there, waiting.

As if this moment had been written into the lines of their skin.

The walk to the dining room was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Azriel stayed close, not touching, but near enough that his presence felt like armour.

The House lit the halls in warm gold, shadows trailing them like whispers. He could feel her tension, the faint stiffness in her shoulders.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She glanced up, wide eyes flicking to his face. There was a question on her lips, but before she could ask, they crossed the threshold into the dining room.

Voices. Laughter. The clink of silverware and glass.

Then silence.

Eight pairs of eyes turned to her.

She paled.

Azriel instinctively shifted, placing himself slightly in front of her, not shielding, but ready. A silent message: she’s not a curiosity.

Before he could speak, Mor stood and crossed the room, all warmth and velvet.

“I’m Morrigan,” she said, her voice all velvet and strength. “Call me Mor.”

“Y/N,” his mate replied. Soft. Controlled.

Azriel noted the tension in her posture, but she didn’t shy away.

Mor led her into the room gently, introducing her to the others, and Azriel watched his shadows trail after her, drawn not by command but by instinct.

Across the table, Rhys and Cassian shared grins, knowing and teasing. He ignored them and headed for the wine decanter. He poured two glasses, one for himself, one for her.

She was already seated between Mor and Amren when he came back, her hood down, face revealed. Her fingers fiddled with the stem of her robes.

She glanced up at him with a small, grateful smile. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Azriel’s fingers briefly brushed her shoulder, grounding her or maybe him. Then he took his seat opposite her, next to Feyre and Rhys, who were watching him like they didn’t recognise him.

Conversation resumed, cautiously at first. Mor and Amren flanked her like shields, sunlight and steel. To his surprise, Elain leaned forward, asking a soft question about her robes. 

She responded calmly about her role in the temple, explaining how she’d be staying to study the mountain’s wards and ancient script. Her voice remained steady, but Azriel could sense the frayed edge through the bond. She was coping, but just.

“I mentioned to Nesta,” Rhys said casually, “that you might be interested in Valkyrie training.”

Across the table, Nesta, who had barely spared a glance at her until now, perked up, eyes narrowing not with scepticism, but something closer to interest.

“Oh?” Nesta leaned forward slightly, wine glass in hand. “You’ve trained before?”

“Some,” his mate replied, lips curving just a bit. “I don’t want to intrude… but I wouldn’t mind learning more.”

Nesta’s eyes brightened, not mocking or challenging, but engaged. Azriel blinked, surprised by how warm Nesta’s tone was, how different this was from the usual ice she wore like armour.

“Well,” Nesta said, voice edged with something almost like approval, “we train every morning. You’re welcome to join us.”

Azriel lifted a brow. Cassian did too. Neither of them missed it, Nesta Archeron being friendly on a first meeting.

His mate hesitated for only a moment, then nodded. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

Nesta gave a single approving nod and turned back to her water.

Azriel leaned back, trying not to stare, but Cassian was already smirking behind his glass.

What in the Mother’s name was happening tonight?

Then she glanced toward Azriel. Just a flick of her eyes, but he saw the tension behind them, the subtle wear, the quiet strain.

He gave her what he could. Not a touch, not a word, just his shadows, curling beneath the table and brushing lightly against her fingers.

She welcomed them.

Let them twine through her fingers like silk. Her eyes dropped to them briefly, as if she could see them, feel them in some deeper way. She twirled her fingers, letting the threads of darkness dance between them.

Then, she smiled. Maybe at something Mor had said, but her gaze always found his again, as it always did.

As if it needed to.

As if he needed her to look at him that way.

Azriel leaned forward and silently refilled her glass before his own, ignoring the stares and smirks it earned him. When new dishes were passed around, he reached for them first, sliding them closer to her, gesturing with just his eyes to the ones she might want.

She responded in kind: subtle glances, small nods or shakes of her head. A private language they hadn’t learned, but already knew.

As the evening wore on and conversation turned mellow with wine-sweetened fatigue, chairs scraped softly against the stone floor. Laughter grew quieter, warmer. Slowly, the others drifted deeper into the House of Wind.

Azriel stood, glancing once at Cassian, who was smirking.

He crossed to her, where she sat beside Mor with the last sip of wine cradled in her hand. He brushed a finger over her shoulder.

Her head turned, cheeks flushed. “More wine, or...?”

“I think I need rest,” she said softly, rising.

Mor leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Azriel didn’t catch the words, but he saw the flush in her cheeks and how she didn’t look at him after.

Together, they gave their thank-yous and slipped from the room, the whispers and curious glances following behind them.

Azriel stayed close beside her. Not touching, but near enough that their hands brushed now and then.

“I think they like you,” he said.

She huffed a soft laugh. “I think I survived.”

“You did more than that. Nesta invited you to train. That’s her version of a love letter.”

Her laugh came again, softer this time, unguarded. God, that sound he’d memorise if he could.

They reached her room. The door opened quietly, candlelight flickering inside already. His shadows moved with her now, as if she called to them.

She paused in the doorway, turning slowly. Hesitation flickered in her eyes, and he could almost see the thoughts shifting behind them, quiet and uncertain.

Azriel tilted his head, voice low. “Tell me. I can feel it, you want to say something.”

Her eyes flicked to his, uncertain. “I just…” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to be this. For you. A mate.” She swallowed. “I don’t know how not to mess it up.”

His heart fluttered, not out of fear, but recognition. He’d felt that way before, too, like he might mess it up before it even started.

“You’re not messing anything up,” he said, stepping closer. “There’s no version of you I was waiting for. You’re it. Already.”

She looked up, eyes wide and wary. “But you’re Azriel, The Spymaster. The Shadowsinger.” 

She paused before continuing. “I don’t know who I am without the Temple, without the priestesses. I don’t know if that’s enough for someone like you.”

He didn’t answer right away. How could he explain that most days, he still felt like he was trying to earn his place? Even now, standing here with her, he doubted himself.

“I don’t expect you to have answers,” he said gently. “I’m still learning too.”

The bond between them thrummed, soft and steady, like it was listening.

“If you need time,” he added, quieter now, “I’ll wait. If you need space, I’ll give it. But if you ever need to leave…” His voice caught. “Just tell me first.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the silence between them was thick with everything unsaid.

“I’m not going to leave,” she whispered.

His eyes didn’t waver. “I hoped you wouldn’t.”

She nodded, the corner of her mouth lifting to a near smile. 

“Goodnight, Azriel.”

He hesitated. His shadows curled tighter at his feet. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her, gently, final. Still, the bond tugged at him through the wood. Faint. Present.

He lingered a moment longer, hand clenched at his side, as if letting go of her entirely might unravel something inside him. 

He turned, and there Rhysand stood at the end of the hall, cloaked in darkness. 

Azriel expected him, walked towards him, and stopped a few paces away.

“You waited,” Azriel said flatly.

Rhys crossed his arms. “Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d let that dinner end without a conversation?”

Azriel said nothing.

They walked away from her door, into the hush of the House.

Rhys glanced sideways at him, all High Lord calm and brotherly patience. “So?”

Azriel didn’t look away. “She’s my mate.”

The words rang out like a vow. As if speaking them made them real, permanent.

Rhys nodded slowly. No surprise. Only understanding in his eyes.

“I figured,” he said.

Azriel exhaled. “It snapped into place like lightning, and now it hums in my bones. Like I’ve known her forever.”

“And her?”

“She’s scared,” Azriel said. “But I think she trusts me.”

Rhys studied him for a long moment. Then a small smile curved his mouth.

“She’ll be good for you. That dinner—” he shook his head. “It’s the most alive I’ve seen you in years. I hope she stays.”

Azriel nodded, voice quiet. “I hope so, too.”

A moment went by before Rhys slapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest, brother. You’ve waited a long time for this.”

Azriel gave a tight nod and turned to leave, but he already knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight. Not with every thread of the bond still humming with her name.

The sunrise over Vallaris painted the sky in soft gold and muted lavender. He stood at his window, arms crossed, shadows curling at his feet. Sleep had evaded him for days, but with her now under this roof, he doubted it would return anytime soon.

He’d risen early, earlier than usual. Arranged for the twins to deliver breakfast to her room: fresh pastries, fruits, strong coffee, and a selection of books he thought she might like. He didn’t expect her to join them for training, not yet. He wanted her to rest. To settle in. To feel safe.

So when Nesta asked where she was, voice sharp with expectation, Azriel’s only answer had been, “She needs time.”

Cassian gave Nesta a pointed look, and the subject was dropped.

The training ring filled slowly. Gwyn arrived first, followed by Roslin, Ilana, Deirdre, and Ananke. Then Emerie, quiet and focused, took her place beside Nesta.

They greeted him politely. Soft smiles. Gwyn gave him the same warm look she always did. Once, that smile might have meant something. Now, he could barely hold it.

He hardly noticed any of them, because in his mind, she was still curled in bed, maybe reading or sleeping. He hoped she was resting. Hoped she liked the books. Hoped she knew he was thinking of her, always.

He didn’t expect the sound of footsteps behind him. Didn’t expect the soft scent of her, flowers and something warmer, carried on the wind. Then she was beside him.

Dressed in flowing midnight-blue Night Court robes, the hem brushing the training mat. Her hair was half-pinned, half-tousled from sleep. A steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

She didn’t speak right away, just sipped her coffee and looked out over the ring like she’d been there all her life.

“You didn’t wake me,” she said, eyes finally meeting his.

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he replied, voice quiet.

There was a pause. Something gentle flickered between them.

“I liked the books,” she said, a little softer.

“I hoped you would.”

She sat on the bench just beside him, her shoulder brushing his thigh for the briefest moment. Across the ring, Nesta offered a short wave. She returned it with a warm smile that looked far too familiar for someone who’d only met them the day before.

Cassian glanced at Azriel from across the mats. Said nothing, just offered him a knowing look.

Azriel didn’t return it. He couldn’t. Not when she was sitting beside him like this, as though her presence hadn’t tilted the ground he stood on.

He turned slightly, just enough that his shadows shifted between them, reaching, gently. She didn’t flinch. Instead, her hand, still wrapped around the mug, brushed against them like she welcomed them. She welcomed him.

For a moment, Azriel thought, if this was what mornings would look like with her, even just sometimes, it might undo him in a way nothing else ever had.

She didn’t move for a while. Just sat beside him, warm coffee in hand, her gaze calm as she watched the priestesses begin their stretches. There was no tension in her posture, but Azriel noticed how her eyes lingered, quietly studying Nesta’s form, the way Emerie adjusted her stance, how Gwyn corrected Deirdre’s alignment with a subtle gesture.

She was watching closely. Not idly.

After a few minutes, she leaned down and opened the small cloth bag she’d brought with her. Inside, a worn book rested between a notebook and a pen, one of the texts he’d asked the twins to bring from the library. Something on ancient wardings. She balanced it easily in her lap, thumbing the corner of a page before looking up again.

“I didn’t want to get in the way,” she said softly, sensing his attention. “But I thought I’d at least observe.”

“You’re never in the way,” Azriel replied without hesitation, barely above a whisper.

She gave him a quiet look at that. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. Not surprise. Just something softer, and she nodded once, accepting the words like they were a promise.

Azriel turned back to the ring, but he didn’t stop noticing her, how the sunlight caught in her hair, how she absently underlined phrases in her notebook with graceful, practised strokes, how her attention flickered now and then to the footwork being demonstrated in the ring. Her lips moved silently as she mouthed the words she read. Every so often, her brow furrowed in thought, and she’d scribble something in the margin.

He couldn’t help himself.

Between giving instructions, correcting Nesta’s balance, and helping Gwyn adjust her grip, his gaze always drifted back to her. Sitting quietly, not demanding space or attention, and yet commanding it all the same.

At one point, Gwyn stumbled, distracted by something Roslin said, and Azriel stepped forward to catch her arm before she could fall. She laughed, flushed, thanking him.

From the edge of the ring, he felt it: a flicker of emotion. Subtle. So small.

His mate’s shoulders had tensed ever so slightly, and the page she’d been turning froze beneath her fingers. A blink later, she resumed reading, her expression the picture of serenity.

He knew her already. Felt her through the bond, and what he sensed now was something sharp and subtle, pressed down beneath that gentle exterior.

Jealousy.

It was faint and fleeting. Not born of possessiveness, but of uncertainty. Of not knowing yet where she stood, of watching others smile at him and wondering if they had smiled like that before.

He didn’t comment or draw attention.

Instead, as the rotation changed and the priestesses paired off, Azriel stepped out of the ring and moved toward her. She didn’t look up immediately, but he knelt in front of the bench, hands resting lightly on his thighs, careful not to crowd her.

“I can train you if you want,” he asked softly.

Her eyes lifted slowly. She studied him, not guarded, but thoughtful. “Tomorrow,” she said after a pause. “I want to watch a little more today.”

He nodded and stood to go, but just before he turned, her fingers grazed his. A light touch, brief. Intentional.

That was enough. Enough to steady him, enough to make his heart pound and for the bond to sing. 

Later, during the drills, he caught glimpses of her watching intently, brows furrowed, her gaze flicking between him and the priestesses. She absently chewed on the end of her pen, scribbling something in the margins of her book. 

Then, suddenly, she stood up. The book still in one hand, her mug left on the bench. She walked up the stairs silently.

Azriel’s heart stuttered. A sharp, unwelcome rush of panic surged through him. 

Had she misunderstood something? 

Was he already too much for her to handle, or not enough?

Was it jealousy after all? Discomfort? Regret?

The questions arrived in waves, quick and relentless. Doubts crept up from the dark corners of his mind, dragging with them that old, gnawing fear that he wasn’t what she needed. That he had never been. That he would never be enough.

Still, he moved through the motions: correcting stances, guiding rhythm, catching missteps, but a part of him remained anchored to that bench. To the place where her mug sat cooling in the morning sun. To the space she’d just left behind.

When the training finally finished, the priestesses and others stretched and chuckled, lingering in their small groups, but Azriel didn’t hang around. He quickly muttered a goodbye and headed inside without looking back.

He found one of the twins in the corridor, who smiled knowingly and pointed towards the library.

Azriel slowed as he reached the open door, his shadows curling out before him, brushing the corners of the room.

She sat curled in one of the velvet armchairs, the book open across her knees, lips moving silently as she read. Her pen hovered above the page, pausing now and then to scribble something in the margins.

Relief spilled through him like water over parched stone.

He stepped inside.

“You found something,” he said, voice quiet but steady.

She looked up, startled, before nodding. The book rested open on her lap, her finger still holding her place.

“Yes. It’s old, but fascinating.” She hesitated, then held it up slightly, more to herself than him. “Some of the texts Rhysand keeps in here reference protective rituals, symbols I’ve never seen before.”

She shook her head. “I think some were meant to shield more than just the body. The soul, maybe.”

A soft smile tugged at the edge of her mouth, dry and a little sharp. “That’s why I left. Not because of the priestesses sending you flirty smiles… though that was educational.”

His lips parted slightly, caught off guard.

“You noticed,” he said after a beat, eyes narrowing, not with anger, but with fear.

“I notice everything,” she murmured, turning another page with a gentle flick. “Especially when people look at you like they’ve done it before.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. The shadows behind him shifted slightly, unsettled, but he didn’t speak.

She didn’t meet his gaze again. Just said, “I didn’t leave because I was jealous. I left because I’m not ready to figure out what it means to sit there while people touch you like they have permission.”

Azriel stood still for a long moment, reading between her words, what she was saying and what she wasn’t. Then he moved closer, slowly, and sank into the chair across from her, his hands resting on his thighs.

“You don’t have to figure it out right away,” he said quietly. “I’m not expecting anything from you.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and for a heartbeat, there was nothing playful or soft in them, just wary quiet, a storm that hadn’t made landfall yet.

“I know,” she said. “But it’s still hard to watch.”

That truth sat between them, raw and unpolished. He didn’t try to smooth it over.

After a long silence, she added, “I found some of the symbols again, similar to ones etched on a stone at my temple. I don’t know how they connect yet, but there’s something here. Something old and forgotten.”

His throat worked. “You want help?”

She hesitated, then she slowly closed the book and set it beside her. “Maybe. When I know more.”

He nodded, accepting the boundary, not pushing. Not yet.

“If you want to train tomorrow,” he said, voice low, “I’ll be on the mats at dawn.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in mock consideration. “You’ll have to wake me,” she said, voice light but edged with challenge. “And I expect the pastries and coffee again.”

His lips twitched, almost a smile. “Noted.”

A moment passed between them. Quiet. Comfortable. Then he nodded toward the book beside her.

“I’ll let you read,” he said, voice softer now. “Come find me if you need anything. I’ll be somewhere in the House, and if I leave, I’ll come say goodbye.”

Her gaze lifted again, catching his in that steady, unreadable way she had. She didn’t nod. Didn’t thank him. Just watched as he turned and walked away, and he felt the weight of her eyes on his back until the library doors closed behind him.

A few hours passed.

He’d spent them in the sitting room, trying, and failing, not to listen to Morrigan and Cassian go on about her.

“She’s perfect for you, Azriel,” Mor was saying, practically glowing with delight. “Truly. After everything, you deserve this. She’s strong, clever and just soft enough to make you loosen up a little.”

Cassian let out a low laugh, feet kicked up on the table as he nursed his drink. “You’ve been brooding for centuries, brother. She smiles at you once, and you hand her the moon.”

Azriel said nothing, merely sat, stone-faced, twirling his glass. It didn’t stop them; in fact, his silence seemed to encourage them.

“I mean, do you remember the way you passed her that platter last night at dinner?” Mor said, mimicking his deep, solemn voice with exaggerated dramatics. “Take this, my mate, the love of my soul—”

Cassian cut in with a laugh, clutching his chest. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve waited through centuries of pain and shadows just for this moment—”

Azriel gave them both a deadpan look. “Are you finished?”

They weren’t. Of course, they weren’t. They had been waiting for this just as long as he had.

Cassian launched into some unsolicited advice about wooing, which quickly derailed into an entirely too vivid recounting of his and Nesta’s two-week-long frenzy, complete with gesturing and far too much detail about positions Azriel never wanted associated with his brother-in-arms.

A quiet laugh, unmistakably divine, echoed from the doorway.

Azriel’s heart seized.

He turned sharply, shadows coiling at his back, and there she was. Leaning against the doorframe, books cradled in her arms, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said dryly, voice full of poorly-concealed laughter, “for those beautiful images of you and Nesta, Cassian. Truly. I can’t wait to ask her how she feels about you sharing that particular position.”

Cassian paled on the spot. Mor nearly choked on her drink.

She strode toward them slowly, unhurried, graceful despite the smirk still curling her lips. Azriel remained frozen on the couch, spine straight, hands clasped too tightly in his lap. He didn’t trust himself to speak, not when every word felt like it might come out too raw.

Then, with a quiet certainty that undid him more than any sharp remark ever could, she perched on the armrest beside him. Close enough for her scent to wrap around him like something intimate, familiar.

Her fingers brushed his shoulder. Light, tentative, almost nothing, but it was enough to make his chest ache.

Something inside him eased, slowly and warily, but it eased. Every tightly-wound nerve tensed with the contact. That strange, fragile hope, the one that had been quietly growing in the corners of his chest every hour since they met, stirred again.

She didn’t look at him directly. Her gaze stayed fixed somewhere ahead, as if she hadn’t just broken down the walls around him with nothing more than a few steps and a featherlight touch.

If anything, he leaned into it, just slightly, instinctively, drawn to her warmth without meaning to or knowing how to pull back.

He must not have been as discreet as he thought. Across the room, Mor and Cassian were both watching with matching expressions: Cassian, smug; Mor, practically glowing.

Their eyes darted to her hand, still resting lightly on his shoulder, and to the way his shoulder now pressed slightly against her hip. 

Azriel ignored them and didn’t care. 

He’d take any touch from her that he could.

The Next Morning

Azriel stood in the doorway of her room, balancing a tray in one hand. The smell of fresh coffee wafted up, mixing with the warmth of honey-glazed pastries and the faintest hint of cinnamon. He didn’t speak. Not at first.

She was still curled in bed, tangled in sheets, with her hair a soft riot around her face, as the early morning light sliced through the curtains in gold bands. He allowed himself a quick look, just a moment longer than he should have.

He cleared his throat, quiet but firm. 

“You said I’d have to wake you.” She stirred, a sleepy noise slipping from her lips. Her eyes blinked open slowly, still foggy with sleep, then focused on him and the tray in his hands.

A lazy, satisfied smile curled at her lips. “You actually brought the coffee.”

“And the pastries,” he said, crossing the room to set the tray beside her. 

She propped herself up on one elbow, accepting the mug he offered. Their fingers brushed. He tried not to dwell on it, but the bond bloomed in his chest.

“Thank you,” she murmured, blowing gently on the surface before taking a sip. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember.”

“I remembered.”

She arched a brow at that but said nothing more. Instead, she sipped her coffee and reached for a piece of pastry, her expression unreadable and still soft with sleep.

After a few bites, she glanced at him over the rim of her mug. “You really expect me to train before sunrise?”

“You said you wanted to,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “But if you’ve changed your mind—”

“I didn’t say that,” she interrupted, already tossing the sheets aside and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Azriel’s breath caught as she sat there, slowly finishing the pastry, dressed in a navy silk camisole edged with lace, with the matching shorts riding high on her thighs from sleep. He looked away before his gaze could linger, instead fixing it on the early light stretching across the window, though the image of her remained in his mind. 

When she appeared again a few minutes later, dressed in tight Illyrian leathers, boots half-laced, and hair pulled back, it nearly took his breath away. The leathers hugged her like a second skin, every line and curve clearly visible in the dim morning light. She held her mug with both hands, cradling it for warmth, her cheeks still flushed from sleep, but her eyes sharper now.

Azriel’s knees nearly buckled. His cheeks flushed with heat, and from the small, amused twist of her lips, he knew she saw it.

The bond stirred, low and steady like a distant drumbeat, always there, just under the surface.

He didn’t speak. He simply knelt in front of her, his gloved hands moving without thought as he tied her bootlaces with quiet care.

As he finished, fingers brushing the leather, something shifted.

Her hand slid into his hair, light, uncertain, instinctive.

He froze.

The touch was so gentle he might’ve imagined it, but then it lingered, her fingers threading slowly through the strands like it was second nature.

She stilled, maybe realising what she’d done.

“I—sorry,” she mumbled, hand starting to pull away.

His voice came quickly, quiet but sure. “Don’t be.”

He looked up at her, still kneeling, with the morning sun behind her like a soft halo, as if she were the goddess who answered his prayers. 

His voice dropped, steady now. “I like it. When you touch me.”

Her lips parted, a flush rising to her cheeks, and still, she didn’t step back.

“I like having my hair played with,” she admitted, almost shyly, like it was a secret she hadn’t meant to tell.

Then, more slowly this time, she reached again, fingers slipping into his hair with greater intent. She tugged gently, testing. Azriel exhaled, barely a sound, but it made her smile.

When she finally let him go, the warmth of her touch stayed like an echo on his skin. He rose slowly, not rushing the moment or looking away. She held her mug close to her chest now, but her eyes searched his, uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, as if afraid she’d gone too far.

Azriel shook his head once. “You don’t have to be. You’re here. You’re trying.”

A moment passed between them.

He met her eyes. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Together, they stepped into the quiet hallway, toward the sparring ring, the early light painting soft gold across the floor. Their shoulders brushed, just barely.

The silence between them wasn’t heavy or awkward; it was theirs.

The morning air was crisp as they stepped onto the training ring, the stone beneath their feet cool from the night. Dawn had only just broken, casting soft gold light over the courtyard. It was quiet, no Cassian, no priestesses, just the two of them and the hush that came with early hours.

Azriel watched her roll her shoulders, stretching out her limbs with ease. The leathers hugged her frame, each movement revealing toned strength beneath soft curves. His eyes traced her without permission, heat coiling low in his gut before he forced himself to look away, guilt creeping in quickly behind the desire.

She bent low into a stretch, hips rolling, body fluid, and he realised, a little too late, that looking away wasn’t helping much either.

“You’ve done this before,” he said, watching her fold into a stretch.

She glanced up, eyes wide like he’d caught her red-handed. “A little. I’m just copying what the priestesses did yesterday.”

Azriel’s brow lifted. “Right,” he said dryly, because the priestesses certainly didn’t do that hip roll.

When she stood, her eyes sparkled with something sharp. He narrowed his gaze. “Get into stance,” he said.

She did.

Immediately, his suspicion sharpened, perfect foot placement, relaxed shoulders, and a steady, precise centre of balance.

“You’ve trained in the Day Court,” he murmured, stepping toward her.

She smirked but said nothing, just watched him, steady and calm.

“I know that stance,” he continued. “I have a contact in Day who moves exactly like that. If I’m right, your next move is—”

He lunged.

She ducked low, wrapping an arm around his forearm and spinning inward. Her fist stopped just millimetres from his face, close enough for him to feel the heat of her skin.

He smirked, looking from her first at his nose to those dark eyes staring at him with a false innocence. 

“I should have known,” he said as she released him, stepping back.

“What, that I’m from Day? That I haven’t just been a priestess.” she teased, a lazy grin on her face as they started to circle each other. “Or that I could give you a good knock on the arse?"

His eyes narrowed, that smirk turning into a grin as he whispered, “both.” 

They moved instantly. Their sparring became quick, smooth, with strikes, dodges, and counters flowing like a dance, one neither had choreographed, but both instinctively knew. Each punch was faster than the last, testing, probing.

Azriel ducked a roundhouse and moved in close, gripping her wrist and twisting her arm softly behind her. But before he could pin her, she drove her elbow back into his ribs and broke free. Her laugh was low, breathless, buzzing with excitement.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” he growled, circling again.

“I was being polite,” she shot back, panting slightly now. Sweat glistened at her temples.

He moved in again, silent, steady, a predator’s grace. Close enough to feel the rush of her breath against his cheek, to smell the heat rising off her skin: sweat, salt, something sweet and wild that drove him mad.

She blocked him, forearms crossing fast, colliding with his chest in a clash of controlled force. The contact rang through them both like a strike of lightning. Their bodies met with a thud, chest to chest, heart to heart, breathing hard from the momentum.

Neither of them moved.

Her eyes locked on his. Her breath hitched. His hands were still on her arms, tight enough to feel the tension beneath her skin. The space between them thinned until it wasn’t space at all, just heat and thunder and tension strung tight enough to snap.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Azriel felt the shift deep in his chest, like gravity, like inevitability.

“I thought this was sparring,” she breathed, voice gone soft and smoky, like it had been scraped raw by restraint.

“It was,” he murmured, his voice nearly hoarse.

A heartbeat passed.

Then she fisted his leather and dragged him down to her.

The kiss wasn’t a question; it was devotion.

It was molten. Desperate. Their mouths collided in a tangled mess of teeth and tongue, breath and desire. Her back pressed softly against the training ring wall, but she didn’t stop; she welcomed the force. Welcomed him.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer and anchoring her there. Her hands were everywhere, slipping beneath his leathers and spreading across the heat of his bare back. Her nails dug in just enough to make him growl into her mouth.

“Azriel—” she gasped, breaking for air as his mouth found the edge of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. His breath scorched her skin, lips dragging with reverence, with hunger.

His restraint shattered. In a flash of movement, he spun her to the mat, his body following hers like gravity, like fate. One hand grabbed her wrists above her head, the other slid beneath her leathers to spread wide over her waist, possessive, claiming.

She laughed beneath him, breathless and wild, eyes full of heat. Her legs wrapped around his hips like instinct.

“You like this?” she murmured, brushing her mouth over his. “Me on my back while you pretend you’re still in control?”

He huffed a dark, amused sound against her jaw. “You’ve been in control since the moment I met you.”

Her teeth grazed his earlobe. “I knew it.”

“You’re infuriating,” he muttered, kissing her again, deeper this time, demanding. His body rocked into hers, their hips grinding in time, and she gasped into his mouth.

“You like it when I fight you,” she breathed.

“I like it when you lose,” he shot back, biting her lip until she moaned.

Her fingers had already found the buckles of his leathers, fevered and sure, undoing them with trembling hands. His own hand slipped beneath her waistband, his fingers grazing soft skin, heat gathering where they made contact. She arched into him, her mouth open and wanting.

Every sound she made was etched into him.

His name was whispered like a secret.

The gasp when he kissed just below her navel.

The whisper of “Don’t stop,” as she rolled her hips, her body pliant beneath his, every inch begging for more.

His shadows wrapped around them protectively, dark silk brushing her wrists, her thighs, making her shiver in his grasp. There was no one else in the world, only this. Her. Them.

“God, you feel like heaven,” he murmured, voice frayed and reverent, kissing down her throat, across her collarbone.

She dragged him closer with a whimper, one leg hooking around him tighter. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, pulling, anchoring.

He was lost in her, utterly, blissfully lost.

His shadows slid around her wrists again, not binding, but holding. Cradling. As if they, too, didn’t want to let go.

Azriel whispered against her lips, “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her legs tightening around his waist. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed her again, then down, down her neck, across the delicate skin beneath her jaw, the edge of her collarbone. Each touch was a vow. His hand, warm and calloused, slipped beneath her shirt again, sliding higher this time, until she arched into his palm with a gasp.

She was fire beneath him, burning, beautiful, real.

Her hands moved too, pushing his leathers down his shoulders, dragging fingertips along the planes of his chest, learning him like a map. Her touch made him shiver, his restraint unravelling thread by thread.

There was no distance now. No armour. No roles.

Only Azriel and his mate, the woman who had undone him completely.

Their breaths mingled, their limbs tangled. Clothing became an afterthought, pulled aside, pushed down, discarded in silence and gasps and hurried touches. He worshipped every inch of her skin he revealed, every sound she made etched into his soul.

When he finally pushed inside her, it was slow, careful.

They both gasped, then stilled.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails biting in, and his forehead dropped to hers, eyes squeezed shut, as though even this was too much, too perfect.

“You’re okay?” he breathed.

She nodded, whispering, “Yes. Azriel…”

Her voice broke on his name.

He moved then, rhythm building in a slow, devastating tempo that left her trembling beneath him. Their bodies moved together, not frantic, but with a deep anchoring. Their eyes never strayed. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered name was soaked in meaning.

It wasn’t just pleasure. It was a surrender.

It was two souls who had spent too long alone, finally finding their match in the dark.

His shadows curled around their joined hands, a silent echo of everything they weren’t saying aloud.

When she came undone, it was quiet, her back arched, her mouth parting in a gasp that was only his. Azriel followed with a broken sound against her skin, his grip tightening like he was afraid she might vanish, but she didn’t.

When the world finally stilled, he lay there above her, inside her, his forehead resting against hers.

Their breathing slowed. Her fingers traced lazy shapes across his spine.

Then, the creak of a door.

A dramatic, drawn-out whistle.

“Well, well, well,” came Cassian’s unmistakable voice, thick with amusement. “Here I was, thinking you two would eventually get around to it, but on the training mat, Az? Really?”

Azriel froze, chest heaving, his wing immediately wrapping them in a cocoon of darkness, shielding her naked body from Cassian’s eyes.

Her head thunked back against the mat with a groan. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Azriel didn’t move, still half-draped over her, both of them very much naked.

Cassian stepped further into the ring, arms crossed, grin wicked. “You know, I always suspected you were a little filthy under all that brooding, brother. But this? This is a new level.”

Azriel exhaled a slow, murderous breath. “Cassian…”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Cassian said cheerfully, already turning back toward the exit. “Rhys is going to die when he hears about this.”

The door shut behind him with a final click.

A beat of stunned silence.

Then her soft, stunned laughter broke the stillness.

Azriel dropped his forehead to her collarbone and groaned.

“We are never living this down,” she whispered, breath still short, cheeks flushed.

“No,” he muttered. “We are not.”

Her laughter faded, but the warmth of it lingered on her lips.

Azriel hadn’t moved; his forehead still rested on her collarbone, his breath ghosting across her skin, steadying. She could feel the war waging in him. Embarrassment. Restraint. A flicker of uncertainty.

She lifted her hand, brushing fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, slow and gentle. “It’s just Cassian,” she whispered. “He’ll forget it by breakfast.”

Azriel huffed a sound that might’ve been a laugh or a groan. “No, he won’t. He’ll tell everyone by breakfast.”

Her smile curved against his cheek. “Let him.”

He pulled back enough to see her face, and the moment he did, the heat returned, low and aching. Her eyes were still heavy with need. Her lips, still parted, kiss-bruised and soft. Her body, still curled around his, craving him.

Still wanting.

God, so did he.

Still, neither of them moved, because she was still beneath him, still burning, still wanting, and so was he.

“Where were we?” she said, lifting her hips in a not-so-subtle reminder.

Azriel growled, mouth returning to hers. “Right here.”

The rest of the world disappeared again.

[orphicsun]

fwb with vi but she's super possessive.. 18+ content. angry, rough sex<3

Imagining how Vi would fuck you if she were all angry and possessive. Watching you flirt with some random asshole who supplies community dick when you could be having her. Whatever, just wait till you get home. She would totally be waiting on the edge of your bed, jaw tense with the jealous feelings swirling around in her mind.

She'd have you laid in your own bed, on your stomach. Your cheek would be pressed into the bed, occasionally lifted when her hand gets a nice, rough grip on your hair and forces you to look back at the mess. You can't even see it, but your pussy is dripping, ass in the air as she stuffs you full of her fingers. You tremble, even let out soft, filthy cries into the bed. It's no use.

"V-Vi!! Fuck, I can't-" You feel one of her hands land on your ass cheek, though you can't tell which. The other hand is deep inside you, forcing pathetic squeals past your lips.

"Yes, you can. You're gonna take it, aren't you?" She huffs out, breathless from fucking you senseless.

You cry into the sheets, so turned on and so overwhelmed at the same time. Her fingers don't cease, three digits thrusting as if she'd die without this.

"Pussy's dripping all over these pretty sheets of yours." She laughs at the way you clench upon her words. "Tell me. Do you deserve to cum for me?" She asks, making sure you answer by pulling your hair. You gasp out weakly, feeling the tell-tale orgasm bubbling up in your pussy, walls fluttering around her touch.

"Please. I'll be good again, I promise." You plead, letting Vi take the sight of you in. Drool is trailing down your lips, and your cheeks are tear-stained.

Vi takes on a more gentle pace, but it's somehow even more intense. She seems to hit the sweet, vulnerable spot inside of you that is hidden beneath gummy walls. "Color?"

You swallow, trying to compose a proper thought while she fucks you. It proves to be almost impossible. "Green." You finally mumble out.

And then, the switch is flipped again. Vi goes back to the roughness, a hand groping and squeezing your ass like it belongs to her. You keep screaming and begging for more, telling her you're about to cum. You can't take it, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen nearly snap into halves. Suddenly, she stops.

You whimper at the loss of her fingers as they withdraw, quickly sitting up and looking back at her. She doesn't even lick her fingers clean, looking at you as if daring for you to argue. Instead, you pout a little and flop back onto the bed, laying down on your side. Even as your body is left unfulfilled and the soreness creeps into your legs, there is some odd sense of satisfaction. You like when she denies you, likes when she fucks you to your breaking point and doesn't actually let you shatter. Though, it'd be nice if she did.

"Maybe if you quit messing around, I'll let you cum next time." Vi lightly scolds, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before taking you into her arms. You smile despite the frustration. Maybe next time you get her riled up, she'll make you cum as payback. The thought is more of a comfort than a turn-on, though. You feel fine falling asleep in her arms, letting Vi have her good girl for now.

[kurogane2512]

A Night to Remember

18+ CONTENT

Game: Wuthering Waves

Characters: Cantarella x gn!reader with a cock (Rover)

Type: Fluff and smut (long fic, takes place after her companion story)

Completed main story and her companion story and she's officially my favorite wuwa character like- she's so beautiful in every way holy shit 😭 You guys know I have liked her since the drip but seeing her in game just cemented it further, the perfect mix of sexy design and demeanour with amazing story and writing.

I'm only slightly upset she wasn't as femme fatale or morally grey as it appeared from the showcase, they kinda softened her too much tho she is well written in general. I hope she'll appear in more quests and we see different sides of her character. I love the way she flirts and teases ehenfkdkkdk. Oh and the way she practically proposed in the end?! I ACCEPT CNEOUFIHEWOFHI

Some time had passed since your arrival in Rinascita, and your participation in various events that unfolded including the esteemed Carnevale, solving the crisis in the Inverted Tower and even meeting the Sentinel, Imperator. Among the time you spent scaling the luscious landscapes and drifting through endless sea of clouds, there was one place you found yourself visiting more than often- Thessaleo Fells. Many would say it was a forbidden area due to the everchanging presence of Tacet Discords and strange frequencies, but there was one place here that seemed to attract you.

Atop the ravaged lands was a mysterious castle, Porto-Veno Castle, which you eventually found out belonged to the Fisalia Family and was the place where the current head of the Fisalia resided at. Perhaps, the real reason you were attracted to this place, to this castle, was that Matriarch herself. Your first meeting with Cantarella Fisalia was filled with uncertainties, given the kind of rumours you had heard about the family and the actions they had committed. But, Cantarella proved herself to be different and became a trusted ally rather quickly.

It was one of those evenings when you found yourself strolling through Thessaleo Fells once again, simply gazing at the seaside before your eyes fell upon the castle shrouded in mystery. This time, you decided to make a move. You didn't really think about what to say to her, you simply wanted to see her again. You reached Porto-Veno castle and met Cantarella's butler, Sebastian, at the entrance, who then informed you that she was in the backyard and you were welcome to meet her.

That's when it dawned on you that you should have brought something for her as a gift, but it was too late to turn around now. Maybe she'd be happy to just have your company?

Walking through the 'poisonous' garden, planted by none other than Cantarella, was a memorable experience. It somehow suited her perfectly, the plants looked beautiful on surface yet were known to be some of the most lethal in all of Solaris 3, and you knew how well Cantarella embodied this. Your hands brushed past the edges of the petals, a simple caress that didn't linger long enough to poison you and was just enough to feel the softness, until you reached the backyard and witnessed a most stunning sight.

Jellyfishes floated in the sky above the pool, dancing in the air and conjuring different frequencies. Among the jellyfish-studded sky, you saw Cantarella in the middle of the pool with her back towards you. You walked closer to her then stopped in your tracks when you saw her body move gracefully through the water, her soaked dress rippling around as she gleefully danced in the water by herself. Her movements were precise and gentle, hands swaying in different motions to accompany the turns of her body.

You couldn't help but feel starstruck, your gaze fixated on her elegant form. The jellyfishes moved as she did, creating a marvelous scenery that felt no less than a practiced performance. Waves wuthered with her dance, splashes echoing in all directions until she finally turned around and ceased her movements with a simple finishing pose, holding up the hem of her dress and her breath heaving. Her azure eyes met yours, a gentle smile forming on her face.

"Welcome, dear Rover. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?~"

Her words snapped you out of your trance and you cleared your throat then walked closer to her, standing at the edge of the pool.

"I was just passing by, thought I'll drop in to see if everything was okay."

"Oh my, how kind of you. My apologies for not meeting you in a better state."

You shrugged with a smile then lingered your gaze over her body, noticing her translucent clothes.

"Ahem, it's fine. I was the one who came unannounced. Besides, I got to see something quite beautiful."

Cantarella smiled more at your praise and elegantly bowed.

"Well, I'm glad that you enjoyed the show~"

You blushed lightly then spoke, "Why are you dancing here? What if you catch a cold?"

"I appreciate your concern, my dear, but I have a strong immune system. Ever since the Threnodian fell, and you broke the shackles in the Sea of Ghosts, the castle's atmosphere has lightened and become warmer. The frequencies are gentler, creating a pleasant environment around here. Well, how could one resist taking in this moment of respite and calm?"

More jellyfishes floated around her, some even gathering around you and playfully poking your cheek.

"I can understand.... the view here is brilliant as well."

You smiled then extended your hand towards her, offering to help her come out. She seemed shocked for a moment looking at your stretched out hand then smiled and extended her own to grasp it. However, before you could even fully hold her, she tightly held yours and pulled you forward instead. You couldn't balance yourself and were falling into the pool now, more precisely— on Cantarella.

She opened both of her arms in a welcoming embrace and cushioned your fall, both of you falling back with her beneath you. You groaned once you regained your composure and found yourself lying on top of her, your face nestled in her ample breasts as her hands securely held you. The situation finally made sense and you quickly leaned back, looking down at her with concern.

"Are you okay, Cantarella? You are not hurt, are you?!"

Your concerned expression and words caught her off guard for a moment, but she had come to understand this was just in your nature. It was one of the many things she liked about you. She smiled and cupped your face then pulled it down, close to her own.

"You need not worry so much for me, Rover. Besides, I pulled you in deliberately~"

Hearing her words, you finally realized your position. Your gaze lingered to her drenched body, eyes falling on her exposed skin and translucent clothing. Your face heated up and you swiftly pulled away to stand up then helped her stand as well, averting your gaze.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to stare....."

Cantarella chuckled at your adorable state then extended her hand forward, "Care to join me?~"

You looked at her held out hand then at her face, a gentle and welcoming expression adorning it. You nodded and stood up straight then held your left hand behind your back and extended the right one to gently grasp hers as you bowed forward.

"It would be my pleasure, my lady~"

An unexpected blush crawled up face for a moment at your poised action, but she remained composed and tightened her grip to accept. Your palms traced as you interlaced your fingers together, your other arm wrapping around her waist while hers over your shoulder. Using her powers to control the frequencies around, Cantarella created a sombre tone to accompany your dance. She stepped forward first, almost catching you off-guard, but you quickly stepped back and synced with her.

Dancing in the water was difficult, something you had never done before. But Cantarella's movements were effortless and graceful as ever, her body treading through the water as if she was part of it. You matched your steps with her, swinging your body around and creating waves. More jellyfishes floated around you both, brightening the surroundings and making her sparkle. Your eyes were fixated on hers, feeling lost in her azure depths as you let your body move automatically.

"I must admit, your dancing skills are admirable, Rover. Who trained you?"

"Ah, I don't know, actually. I don't have memories of my past, just few vague recollections. I suppose my body just knows how to do it."

Her eyes softened at your response for a moment, "I see, that makes it even more impressive~"

You blushed, "I-It's nothing compared to your skills, you are even better than Carlotta—!" the words left your mouth before you knew it. You looked at her expecting her to be shocked but her expression was unchanged, the usual smile adorning her face until she let out a chuckle at your fumble.

"Now now, don't undermine little Carlotta. She's grown up exceptionally, but there's a lot she still requires to match me~"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to compare you both at all...."

She smiled then suddenly pressed her body to yours, wrapping both of her arms around your neck and leaning near your ear to whisper.

"It does intrigue me that you have done this with her as well. Though, I shouldn't really be surprised since I have known about her infatuation with you from the start~"

"We are just friends, trust me....."

She chuckled again then drew away from you, "I'm aware. This brings me to something I have been wondering about....."

"What is it?"

Her hands slid down to your chest until she gently pushed you back, creating some distance between you two. You were startled and tried to question her but saw her lunge forward into the air and float past you, her hand brushing your face and breath caressing your ear in the process as she circled around you. Water droplets fell as your eyes followed her then she came in view again and landed in front of you, your bodies pressed together with her back facing you, your arms around her waist.

"Did you really come here because you were merely passing by?~"

Her left hand cupped your jaw, fingers intricately tracing it as her eyes looked into yours. You then took steps from left to right, swaying her body with yours, her bewitching scent overwhelming your senses.

"What are you expecting?~"

Cantarella hummed then dragged her hips against yours before circling around you, her fingers tracing past your upper back as she stopped behind you and looped her arms around your shoulders. Her warm breath caressed your ear as she rested her face on your shoulder, her soft voice coming in a whisper.

"You tell me, what are you expecting from this meeting, Y/n?~"

Your face heated up for a moment, her hands slowly dragged across your torso and caressed your skin teasingly. She anticipated you to endure as you always do, resisting your urges whenever she did things like this. But you surprised her this time. You grasped both of her hands with yours and swiftly yet gently pulled them away before turning around to face her, twirling her body in your hold then pulling her close.

Her eyes widened as she felt herself being pulled and quickly acted to raise her right leg, giving you the perfect chance to grab her thigh and place it around your hip while you other hand held her waist and pressed her body to yourself. Her arms automatically wrapped around your neck as she braced herself against you, her face lying near your chest. A splash rippled when you embraced, your bodies panting as you breathed heavily. Her gaze finally moved to meet yours, a seductive expression crawling up.

"Must one expect things when seeking out someone they hold dear?~"

Cantarella's eyes visibly widened at your words, so much so that you clearly caught on to her surprise this time. She shifted her expressions rather quickly afterwards, curling her lips into a smirk and hooding her eyes.

"Ah, what a way with words~ It seems you are not as capable of hiding your intentions as you think, dear~"

You smirked back then gently released her thigh, letting her stand on her own and elegantly bowed.

"I have no intentions to hide, if the receiver is willing to accept~"

Another blush came and went on Cantarella's face in a matter of seconds, finding it difficult to maintain her graceful composure now.

"Hehe, the Fisalias expect a great deal of things if you wish to associate with us. Are you willing to comply, dear?~"

"Well.... You already gave me unrestricted access to everything in the castle, and in Fisalia's possession. There's only one thing left that I wish to have now."

She chuckled, "To just waltz in here and state your claim.... you know there are protocols to be followed, don't you, Rover?~"

"I prefer doing things my own way, as long as nobody is hurt."

Her eyes softened and she gracefully returned your bow, "Then, allow me to show you some of the Fisalia hospitality~"

You looked into each other's eyes with a knowing look, until you broke out in laughter followed by her restricted chuckles.

"That was quite enjoyable, thank you for joining, Rover. Come now, stay in the castle for a bit. I'll have your clothes washed up."

You weren't particularly pleased with her taking it all as a simple joke, but you decided to be patient and wait for better opportunities. You accepted her offer and followed her inside Porto-Veno Castle where a few maids immediately gathered around you both to accompany you. She took you to her study room, the place you had your first ever meeting with her. It brought back memories of the meeting, and made you internally chuckle at how far things had come since then.

One of the maids handed you a towel and you began drying your hair then looked at Cantarella also drying her hair, her skin glistening from the water droplets sliding down her body. You didn't realize you were practically staring in awe until she turned towards you and walked closer, then kept her hand on the towel which remained stationary on your head.

"Are you alright, Rover? You seem to be lost in thoughts."

Her hands pushed away yours as she grasped the towel then gently wiped your hair and face.

"A-Ah sorry, I will do it myse—"

"Shh, let me. I was the one to make you do that, allow me to return my gratitude."

"You also have to dry yours...." your eyes trailed down to her clothes and words faded as you noticed she wasn't as drenched as before, even almost completely dry, "Oh, I see.... That's quite convenient."

She chuckled at your surprise then leaned closer to your face, "Don't worry about me, dear. Just relax and let me tend to you~"

You nodded with a blush and let her do as she pleased. She smiled in return and dried off your hair completely then trailed her hands down to your chest, caressing your soaked shirt with a sultry look in her eyes.

"....Do you want to help me undress, Cantarella?" you asked, making her surprised for a moment.

"My apologies, how inappropriate of me. It seems your charm is hard to resist, Rover~"

You blushed again, "It's fine.... I don't mind if it's you."

Warmth brushed Cantarella's face too now, your words shocking her. She kept the towel away and caressed your face for a moment then grasped the lapel of your jacket and pushed it down, followed by clenching the hem of your shirt and pulling it off. Her eyes remained fixated as your body slowly came in view, and you caught her licking her lips once your upper body was fully exposed.

"Hmm, as expected of the mighty Godkiller~" she pondered.

Her fingers teasingly slid down your abs as she smirked, taking in the sight of you. You shivered from her touch once then suddenly felt her hand grab your belt buckle and instinctively gripped her wrist to stop her, feeling embarrassed.

"I'll do the rest myself, Cantarella—!"

She blinked a few times as if to come out of a trance, then swiftly retracted her hands and stepped back defensively.

"My apologies, I got carried away. I'll give you some privacy now, there is a change of clothes behind you. Excuse me, I will be back in a while."

She quickly exited the room before you could reply in any manner. You let out an exasperated sigh and held your head, feeling more embarrassed at the chain of events. On the other hand, Cantarella leaned against a nearby wall, her hands clenching her necklace as she recalled everything that happened so far and felt warmth surging through her once again.

"Seeking out someone you hold dear.... did you truly mean it, Y/n? And if you did then, what should I do? My feelings for you have always been this way...." she deeply pondered, feeling conflicted and regretful.

"Milady? Are you alright?" a familiar voiced called out to Cantarella and she quickly composed herself to see her butler beside her, standing with a trolley in front.

"Ah, I'm fine. Thank you, Sebastian. I'll take it from here."

"As you wish, milady." he bowed then turned around to walk away, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and you.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself then grabbed the trolley and pushed it towards the room, followed by knocking on it to call out to you.

"Rover, are you done changing? May I come in now?"

"Ah, sure!" you shouted back.

Cantarella opened the door and pushed the trolley forward as she came in, giving you a small smile as you stood wearing the clothes she had arranged- a casual pair of shirt and pants, delicately ironed.

"It fits you perfectly. Is it comfortable to wear?"

"Yes, it feels great. The fabric is really soft and breathable."

She smiled then stopped the trolley near the sofa and walked in front of it, "Please, have a seat. I have prepared some refreshments for your liking."

"O-Oh, you didn't have to...."

"It is my pleasure, especially after the wonderful time you gave me~"

She eyed you with a smirk when she spoke the last part before turning her attention back to the trolley. You sat on one side of the sofa and waited as she poured out some drink in a bowl, followed by pouring a small drop from a potion vial and stirring it. She then took a seat beside you, closely, elegantly draping her dress, and took a spoonful of the drink to blow on it.

"Some freshly prepared soup and a concoction I made, it should be quite tasty. Here, say 'aah'~"

She brought the spoon towards your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth, letting her feed you. You didn't even question what kind of concoction it could possibly be, nor did you have the time to feel embarrassed by her action of feeding you. Somehow, the air around her intoxicated you and made you more relaxed than ever, your body seemingly abiding to any and everything.

"....It's delicious, perfectly seasoned and cooked. And that concoction.... is it some kind of potion to relax you?"

"You could say that. It is not as potent as the blend I made that day to help you sleep, this is simply meant to calm your nerves and muscles."

"Thank you.... I feel really good."

She smiled in satisfaction and continued feeding you a few more scoops, "Hehe, reminds me of the first time we met and I offered you tea which you refused. A shame, that tea was from Jinzhou~"

You recalled the time she was talking about and felt guilty, "I'm sorry about that. I was just trying to be cautious...."

"An astute way of thinking, I hold no grudge against you for that. But, it is quite amusing to see how far we have come~"

You blushed realizing what she meant, it was indeed impressive how things turned out. Who would have guessed the supposed evil and manipulative head of the Fisalias would turn out to be the real Blessed Maiden, a woman who selflessly sacrificed her life to save Imperator, and in turn Ragunna, including many innocent girls from the shackles of the Divine Trials. She was a Defier, a resilient and strong woman who gave up her own freedom for others to live freely.

"Would you mind serving me that tea again some time? I'd really like to try it."

"Why, of course. I will have it prepared the next time you visit. There are many other teas I have acquired from the states of Huanglong, I'm sure you'd be pleased to try those as well."

"I look forward to it."

You smiled at each other and soon finished the soup then she offered some desserts to you- cupcakes, pastries and pudding. You were quite overwhelmed by the variety but were feeling quite hungry, and tempted looking at them, hence accepted delightfully and indulged yourself. Cantarella silently watched you eat, finding it adorable how you enjoyed the simple treats and ate gleefully. It was during one of these moments when she noticed some whipped cream smeared near the corner of your lips, and how you were seemingly oblivious to it.

Smirking to herself, and being the teaser she was, she couldn’t help but lean in to wipe it away with her index finger, playfully grazing your lips in the process. You looked at her in embarrassment and quickly wiped away your own face then were about to thank her but your words, and breath, got caught in your throat as you watched her lick the cream on her fingertip, her engraved tongue sensually lapping it up and a pleasant hum leaving her lips. You instinctively swallowed a lump, your face turning bright red for a second.

“O-Oh, thank you for that, Cantarella. Sorry for being messy....”

She softly chuckled, “It’s not a big deal, Rover. While I do prefer to maintain poise and grace at the table, we are not in a formal place at the moment- nor do I want our relationship to have those formalities, I find it quite endearing to look at you this way~”

You shyly averted your gaze and were about to say something to change the topic but the Tacet Mark on your hand started glowing all of a sudden, followed by your companion conjuring himself from his slumber.

“Oh, I smell delicious food! Hey, why did you not call me if you were having such a treat!” Abby announced as his eyes sparkled looking at the remaining desserts.

You held your head with a sigh while Cantarella smiled to herself. Abby then turned around to face you and was caught by surprise seeing you alone with Cantarella, realizing he interrupted a private moment.

“Oh, sorry.... Am I interrupting something?”

“Abby.... you know I would have called you out if it was a feast.”

Abby scratched his head embarrassingly then flew near you, leaning to whisper something in your ear.

“Oi, are you getting anywhere with her? Why don’t you just confess your feelings alrea-“

“Shh! Abby, not here!” you gasped and waved your hands here and there, making Abby giggle before returning inside your Tacet Mark. You let out a sigh of relief then looked over at Cantarella who was also giggling to herself by your antics.

“Sorry about that, he has a habit of coming out that way whenever there is food, and danger, nearby....”

“Your friendship is adorable, it is a delight to see you both. However, I believe there was something you were going to say before he came out?~”

“Ah, that....” you held back for a moment then looked at her firmly, “....I have been a bit curious about your Tacet Mark. How does it feel? I imagine you must face some uncomfortable situations....”

She seemingly didn’t expect such a question, but was nevertheless pleased to satiate your curiosity.

“Hmm.... it’s not as bad as you think. Many things I have simply gotten used to over the years. Initially, it would get quite irritable since it goes down to my throat, but I learned to live with it. When inactive, it just lays there like no stranger. I... prefer to have simple food with no extravagant seasonings since I cannot taste much of anything so I’m not used to strong flavours.”

Your eyes widened at the surprising revelations, nodding at her while pondering.

“You said it’s not as bad but it sounds pretty troublesome. I never imagined it goes down to your throat and that you cannot taste much....”

Cantarella smirked and leaned close to you, her eyes narrowing with mischief.

“What kind of preconceived notions did you have about it?~”

“W-Well, for one I thought it’s only on your tongue, and that eating anything brings discomfort and perhaps even gets ticklish....”

“Hehe, I can understand. Though, I have never had someone brave enough to ask me about it~”  

“Also.... I wonder how it feels to touch.”

Her eyes glinted at your words, seemingly waiting for you to say that.

“Well, would you like to find out?~”

Her hand settled atop your thigh as she leaned even closer, anticipating your reply. Your heartrate fastened once again as you imagined the scene in your head, subconsciously swallowing a lump.

“I-I’m sure it must be like all other Tacet Marks for the most part....”

“I don’t mind letting you feel it, dear~”

She seemed almost eager, continuing to come closer to you and now grasped your hand. You felt defeated looking at her and eventually gave a nod then watched as she guided your right hand up to her face, sticking out her tongue for you. Your face heated up as you slowly extended your hand and finally caressed the tip of her tongue with your thumb.

The sensation was indeed similar as you anticipated, but also different enough to make you more curious to seek further. You traced along the vertical line with your thumb before pulling it aside and letting your index finger touch it, feeling the ebbs and bumps of the waves and the rough sensation of engraving.

At the same time, you were intensely aware of your action and kept note of Cantarella’s reactions, ensuring to not hurt her or do something strange. The situation and sight of her leaning forward with her tongue stuck out and eyes hooded was erotic enough for you, you had to stay in control and not get carried away.

“It’s.... very interesting, similar to others but also different. I can’t pinpoint what feels different but....”

She seemed pleased by your assessment and smiled then stuck out her tongue even more, giving you further access. Her saliva coated your fingertips but you didn’t mind; if anything, it made the situation even more erotic. You also leaned closer to take a better look at it further down her mouth, noticing a familiar pattern that you had only seen on 2 other people so far.

“6 waves just like Jinhsi and Cartethyia.... Is it because she was chosen as the Sentinel’s Resonator? But, does giving up that power not change it? Would be nice if I could get a chance to see the moment a normal Resonator becomes the Sentinel’s Resonator....”

You were lost in your thoughts as you conjured all sorts of theories and explanations. Cantarella was slightly shocked to see you so immersed in thinking, seemingly oblivious to your surroundings. With a small smirk, she took the opportunity to tease you. As you were not paying attention, she sneakily licked your finger then swirled her tongue around it before wrapping her lips on the tip.

“Mmh....~”

You finally snapped out of your thoughts at her constrained voice, darting your eyes to see the shocking sight of her sucking your finger. You’d have normally pulled away instinctively, but something held you back and you almost wished to let it continue further. You looked at Cantarella’s eyes which narrowed once she caught your gaze, clearly indicating her teasing. She then grasped your hand and gently released your finger, still holding your hand near her mouth.

“Why not have a better feel?~”

She whispered and dragged her tongue from the base of your finger up to the tip, the entirety of her Tacet Mark rubbing against it. But she didn’t stop there. She swallowed your finger once again and stroked her tongue over it multiple times, almost licking it like it was a delicious treat. You simply remained motionless at her ministrations, too aroused to stop it and simply too overwhelmed to really act. Her hand caressed and teased the rest of your hand at the same time, fingers running up and down in gentle motions. Her warm breath only added to the sensations.

You had no idea how much time passed when she finally stopped and released your finger, it probably hadn’t been much yet felt like an eternity. Your face was as red as a cherry, eyes widened and breath slightly haphazard. Who would have guessed having your finger licked over would be so arousing? Perhaps the person doing it, and the technique, made a difference. Cantarella smirked more at your speechless form; oh, how she adored seeing you this way and wished to see even more.

“Well, did that give you a good idea of it, dear?~”

Her question brought you back to reality, immediately pulling your hand away from hers and making some distance between you two then clearing your throat to speak.

“A-Ahem, yes that was sufficient. Thank you for the opportunity, I hope you didn’t feel.... uncomfortable.”

She chuckled and grabbed a tissue from the table then wiped your finger with it, “Of course not, I’m more than pleased to indulge you anytime~”

You blushed and simply nodded at her while looking away, feeling embarrassed to face her. She finished cleaning your finger then suddenly laced her hand with yours and closed the distance between you two once again, lips curled into a smirk.

“There is something I have also been curious about for a while. Care to return the favor for me?~”

“....What is it?”

She leaned even closer, her body essentially resting on yours now as you rested against the handrest of the sofa. Her other hand went to cup your face, tracing your jaw before she brought her face near your ear to whisper in a silvery tone.

“Just how sweet do you taste, dear Rover?~”

Shivers went down your body at her seductive tone, and the way she was practically leaning on you now, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"....Y-You already had a taste just now, didn't you?"

She chuckled, making you tremble once again.

"That barely told me anything. I'd like to try in a more.... direct way~"

Your lips twitched, fists clenching as you desperately tried to keep yourself composed.

"....What do you suggest?"

Her eyes narrowed as she traced her hand across your cheek, sliding it down to touch your lips with her fingers now.

"There are quite a few ways, you know...." she shifted her leg closer, her knee grazing your crotch, ".....Would you like me to show you?~"

Your eyes dropped down to her breasts, feeling how they squished on your chest. You felt her lips brush past your ear lobe as she moved in front of your face, your lips lingering over each other's. You opened your mouth to respond but just at that moment, all the sensations you were feeling got lost as Cantarella pulled back and sat up straight with reasonable distance in between. You couldn't descibe what you felt right then, the regret and disappointment.

"My apologies, that was a little too far. It's just hard to resist when you give such adorable reactions~" she stated with a giggle before reaching her hand out towards the table to pour a cup of tea for herself.

You almost glared at her, feeling annoyed by this constant dance of temptation.

"What was too far?" you asked with a flat tone, making her slightly surprised.

"....Doing any further is inappropriate for me. As the head of the Fisalias, I know there is a line to not cross."

You gritted your teeth then moved closer to her and gently gripped her wrist, making her turn to face you with widened eyes.

"So, you do even this with anyone? All the flirting, the looks and touching.... do you dance with just anyone? Do you treat anyone with such care and attention, even giving them your family's assets and secrets?"

You couldn't hold back and spoke your thoughts, desperate to know her true feelings now. Cantarella was even more shocked by your supposed outburst, unsure of how to respond for a moment. She saw the immense feelings in your golden eyes, realizing how she was playing with your heart all this time.

"....You are not just anyone, Rover. The things that you have done for Rinascita, for Jinzhou, for me.... nobody else could."

She extended her arms to cup your face, cradling it in her palms with a gentle smile on her face.

"You are the Sentinel's Arbiter, you fought off the Threnodian invansion in Jinzhou, you made the Carnevale a success this year, you solved the crisis in Avinoleum and freed Cartitheyia, and you saved me and my family from the lifelong torture of being under the Threnodian's whispers....."

She shifted closer and caressed your face.

"And this is simply what I know about. I'm sure there's many more things you have done, and will do, that make you unlike anyone in this world. So, tell me.... is it wrong of me to treat you the way I do? If it is then I will sto—"

"Is that really all the reason for you to treat me this way?"

"....What are you implying, dear?"

"You said it yourself, doing more is inappropriate for you. But, are you sure even this much is appropriate if you simply respect me for all my actions?"

You gripped her hands and pulled them away from your face, averting your gaze from her. Cantarella gazed at you in silence, trying to form words to speak. The answer was known to her all this time, but she refused to face it, fearful of the consequences.

"You know what I'm implying very well, don't you? Just say yes or no, that'll be enough." you added.

Your words tugged her heartstrings all of a sudden, a strange sensation rising in her as her hand subconsciously gripped her necklace while her mind plunged in deep thought. She wasn't sure herself why she was holding back all this time, perhaps she was not used to wanting something for herself?

"....Yes, I know." she finally replied in a low, soft voice.

You were about to look at her when she instead lunged at you and pressed her lips to yours, giving you a small and rushed yet intense kiss.

"My apologies.... I.... all this time I was— mmh!~" she attempted to clarify but you didn't let her as you kissed her back, equally as rushed and intense.

"It's fine, you don't have to say it...."

Light blush formed on her face, her hands coming to grip your shoulders as she shifted even closer and connected your lips again. Her body leaned on yours once again, causing you to rest on the armrest as you let her onto you. You lips moved with intensity, messy and unskilled even, but that only made it feel more passionate. Your right arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, her body straddling you now.

"Mmh.... aah.... Y-Y/n~" she moaned into the kiss, her hands continuously moving to feel you up in every way before settling to grip your hair and neck.

Buried feelings exchanged through the kiss alone, her burning emotions that she planned to keep locked in forever came gushing out and flowed into the kiss. Her soft lips gave you no chance to part, keeping them pressed as much as possible.

"Mm.... C-Cantarella.... ngh....~" you gasped softly when you felt her bite your lower lip before enveloping it with her lips.

Moans and ragged breaths resounded in the room as you madeout, everything seemed to still and you could only focus on Cantarella. Perhaps that's why neither of you heard the knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice speaking only to be immediately shushed at the scene unfolding.

"Milady, Rover's clothes ar— Oh, my deepest apologies!" Cantarella's maid, Carmilla, stood frozen at the doorway with her head bowed. Cantarella quickly pulled back and sat up normally beside you, her face red and breath uneven, arms folding over her chest as she attempted to compose herself from the embarrassment.

"A-Ahem, it is alright, Carmilla. What were you saying?"

"I-I only came to inform that Rover's clothes are washed and dried now, and to ask whether you required something...."

"I see, you may keep the clothes with others for now. As for whether we require something....." she paused and glanced at you, to which you shook your head sideways and she continued, "....No need, you are dismissed."

"U-Understood, milady! I'm really sorry about this!" she kept bowing and apologizing as she backed away then shut the door close.

Cantarella let out a sigh while holding her head while you couldn't help but giggle at the situation.

"Are they not used to seeing you with lovers?~" you teased.

Cantarella smirked, "What a rude assumption to make, dear. I'm not one to engage in loose affairs, I'll have you know~"

"Ah, then I'm the first and only one to receive a consort proposal from the head of Fisalias?~"

"Well, I cannot speak for the previous heads but for the present one.... You are also her first kiss— and any kind of romantic engagement, for that matter~"

Your eyes widened in slight surprise, "Let me guess, you were always too busy with the family affairs and trying to find a way to save Imperator?"

"Indeed, but that's not all there is to it. With the current reputation of the Fisalia, and mine specifically..... who would really wish to form such a bond with 'The Bane'?"

Her eyes hooded slightly as she spoke, a hint of sadness and loneliness lingering on her azure gaze. You understood what she meant, yet found it upsetting she had to live this way. She seemingly sensed what you were thinking and let out a smile before coming closer to you and grasping your hand.

"Things will gradually shift because of you. I do not regret anything that has happened so far, for I believe it is our choices and will that led us to this situation—not the wishes of fate. Saving Imperator, Ragunna and residing over the family took priority for me, and I'm eternally grateful for the outcome it has brought me~"

She looked deep in your eyes as she spoke, clearly referring to you. Her other hand cupped your face and you were about to lean in to kiss her but she put her index finger on your lips and stopped you with a chuckle.

"Aren't you impatient, dear?~"

You smirked, "Can you blame me?~"

"Hehe, how about we move somewhere more private?~"

"Sure, I have yet to see more of 'our' home anyways~"

Cantarella blushed for a moment then kissed your cheek before standing up to go out. You exited the study room together and were following her down the hallway now, wondering where she'd take you. You reached the staircase and she was about to begin descending when you stopped her as an idea popped in your head. She looked at you with a confused expression then was startled the moment you put your arms under the bend of her knees and around her waist then picked her up bridal style.

Her arms automatically wrapped around your neck but the surprised expression on her face told you enough of how unexpected this was for her. A faint blush formed on her cheeks again and she slightly adjusted herself better, brushing her dress to the side and shifting closer to you. You heard vague sounds of gasps from around and looked to see some of the servants and members staring at you two with shocked faces, mouths agape and eyes blown wide.

You then looked back at Cantarella and she seemed unfazed by the looks, even if slightly embarrassed at first when her maid walked in on you making out. She looked at you as well and gave a gentle smile before cupping your face to peck your lips, causing even more gasps and squeels to erupt from the surroundings. Though, everyone soon cleared the way and acted as if they saw nothing while Cantarella guided you towards her private bedroom.

Porto-Veno Castle already looked grand enough from outside, but it was even better inside with its impressive architecture.

"How big is this castle?"

"Hehe, big enough that it would take you an entire day to see every room and passage~"

"....Doesn't it get lonely being all by yourself? Especially now after those girls went back...."

She softly smiled, "I have ways to keep myself occupied. Now that I'm free from a major responsibility, thanks to you, I finally go out sightseeing. There are still many other duties I have to do as the head, those keep me busy enough."

"I see.... Let's go out together someday, call me when you are up for it."

"Of course, it'd be my pleasure~"

She pecked your lips and you smiled at each other. You then finally reached her private bedroom and placed her down as she opened the door, welcoming you in. There was a queen size bed in the center with transparent purple curtains on its edges, a vanity to the left corner of the room accompanied with various plants and ornaments all around. A sweet, intoxicating fragrance filled the room, making you entranced immediately.

"Your room is beautiful....."

You walked in further as you glanced around, taking in the view. Meanwhile, Cantarella stood at the door with her back pressed to it and silently gazed at you, deep in her own thoughts. Her heart beated faster as each moment passed, your words barely audible to her. She then took a deep breath, clenching her necklace then releasing it and walked up to you.

"Oh, is that yo—?" your words were caught in your throat as she suddenly embraced you from behind, her arms wrapping around your torso and face buried in your shoulder.

"Cantarella, are you okay?" you asked out of concern, finding this unlike her.

She remained silent for a while and simply held you as if feeling your warmth and presence, her deep breathing prominent in your ear and making you shiver.

"....I'm in love with you, Y/n."

The sudden confession caught you off-guard, even if you were technically aware of this.

"Me too, I'm in love with you as well."

Her hold tightened hearing your words, a small smile forming on her lips. She dragged her hand across your chest to grasp your face, gently caressing your jaw while leaning closer to place kisses on your neck. You trembled in place feeling her lips on your skin, soft yet fiery kisses igniting a flame in you, a touch so sweet yet poisonous that you wanted more.

"Y-You didn't have to say it, you know? I have known for a while...."

"No.... I had to say it, for you and for myself, to finally make my heart accept it."

You smiled at her words then slowly turned around to face her, gazing into her fathomless eyes as they sparkled. She then cupped your face and stepped closer before meeting her lips with yours again, hungrily. There was no thought, only need— urgent and wild. Her usual grace and elegance was nowhere to be found, her lips clashing messily as if she's waited too long for this— which you knew you both had. Her hands then slid around your neck before tangling into your hair, pulling you closer and deeper.

Moans and desperate breaths exchanged as the heated kiss continued, your body growing warmer with each motion as your hands went to settle around her waist, slyly dragging up to feel her exposed back. She smirked against your lips and dug one knee between your legs, pushing against your crotch and making you groan into the kiss.

"C-Cantare— mmph~"

"Hush now~"

Her confidence in taking charge was uncanny, despite the fact that it was her first time doing this. You soon felt yourself being pushed backwards, lips still locked, every step unsteady with desire and urgency. The back of your knees hit the bed and you fell down, pulling her along with you. The mere drag of your body further up the bed was heavy as your lips never left hers, hands desperately clawing each other to touch anywhere and everywhere. She moved to straddle you properly, silky lavendar hair cascading over your face.

The kiss shifted, her thumb gently parting your lips and you easily let her, granting deeper access for her tongue to dive in. Your tongues meet, a tingling sensation running through you for a moment due to the Tacet Mark, but quickly changing into a passionate exchange. They moved as if in a frantic dance, sliding over each other impatiently. A low hum resounded from her, sending vibrations through you. Her mouth was warm, soft, and intoxicating— making you seek more of it.

With a swift motion, you wrapped your arms around her and turned over to place her on the bed instead and came on top of her, lips never leaving hers. She gasped into the kiss from the sudden change of positions, yet made no effort to resist and instead pulled you down to kiss deeper. Her right leg slid up around your waist, and you wasted no time to grasp and caress her porcelein skin while pressing yourself deeper. A passionate revelry unfolded with your tongues, bodies intertwining together into one.

It felt like an eternity when you finally stopped, breathless and panting as you slowly retracted from her, her tongue giving a final lick to your lips and relishing the taste. Her eyes were half-lidded, shimmering with the afterglow of the kiss. The deep blue glowed like an ocean, fluid and alive, ripples of light catching the surface like a jellyfish drifting beneath the water. The vibrant blue reminded you of those creatures, pulsating softly, drawing you in with the same quiet, hypnotic pull. Every glance, every flutter, felt like an invitation to sink deeper into her, to never escape.

No words were exchanged as you immediately attached your lips to her neck and placed several lingering kisses while moving down to her chest. Her body arched into you with a soft gasp when your lips touched the valley of her breasts, planting hot and wet kisses on her soft skin. You looked up at her once, asking for permission, which she understood immediately and gave her approval. You quickly removed the clothing covering her breasts, freeing the ample mounds of flesh. Your mouth almost watered at the sight, body moving automatically to take one in your mouth.

Cantarella sighed when she felt your lips around her right breast, while your hand grasped the other to knead it. Your tongue flicked over her erect nipple and fingers dug into the soft flesh, feeling the curviness and bounce. She wrapped her own hands around your head and pushed you deeper, arching herself further into you and letting you have more. You sucked her nipple now, swirling your tongue around the nub and pinching the other one. She gasped softly when your teeth grazed it, fingers treading through your hair. The more you paid attention to the hardened bud, the more her fingers gripped onto your hair.

"Mmh... Y-Y/n.... aahn~"

You could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted, soft moans leaving her lips. You switched between breasts, giving them equal treatment and attention. Her skin was burning against yours and your own breathing was beginning to become ragged from arousal. Her moans and whimpers of pleasure were music to your ears. When you were done, you pulled back and looked at her, face flushed and her chest glistening with your saliva as she panted.

Somehow, the sight of her this way aroused you to no end. The urge to pleasure her grew stronger, eager to see more of her in this state and just simply make her feel good. She looked at you with such love, eyes glazed with lust and desire. Knowing her situation, you couldn't help but empathize with her deeply and wished to make her happy for once. Your eyes trailed down to her clothed core, noticing a wet patch forming.

"....May I undress you, Cantarella?"

Her eyes widened for a moment, knowing well where this was headed. She gave a nod rather quickly, her own body betraying her thoughts. She sat up and let you do as asked, slowly sliding down her dress and revealing her exquisite body. Her fair skin glistened against the moonlight, lavender hair cascading and enhancing the view. The last to remove were her panties and stockings as you unclasped the suspender first, followed by removing her stockings then finally underwear. A string of arousal clung to the fabric, giving way to her drenched folds.

Her body shivered at the feeling of cool air hitting her exposed parts, reflexively closing her legs. You then leaned in to kiss her and gently laid her back down before parting your lips and trailing kisses down her body, marking a trail straight down until her abdomen. She softly gasped the moment you stopped, eyes focused on her inviting folds that begging to be touched. Her clit throbbed feeling your intense gaze, her usual confident demeanour broken as she laid completely bare for you, allowing you to do whatever you pleased.

The air thickened with the scent of arousal, a potent aphrodisiac that fueled you. One would wonder if it was part of her forte, but you knew this was reality and nothing could change it. You gave a simple lick to her clit, earning a startled gasp from her, her legs instinctively enclosing around your head. You caressed her plush thighs and gently parted them as you went lower, placing kisses on her inner thighs while eyeing her throbbing folds.

Cantarella bit her lower lip when she felt your lips travel to her outer folds, teasing them. Her eyes lowered to see you buried in her folds, eager to please her. Yet, a strange and unknown sensation ran through her. She wasn't used to this. She had never done this before. Not just this act, but the act of having her own desire fulfilled. Since childhood, she had been taught to live only for one purpose, and now she lived for the freedom of others- stripping her own.

"Y-Y/n.... wait...." she husked out, extending her hands towards you.

You leaned back and went closer to her, letting her hold your face, a soft look in her eyes. You cupped her hands with your own, somehow being aware of her thoughts and giving her a reassuring look.

"Just lay back and let me please you." you sincerely stated, kissing the inside of her palm and pulling her hand away before dipping your head between her thighs again.

This time, you were more deliberate, more attentive to her reactions. You traced the sensitive skin with your tongue, teasing and tantalizing, building the anticipation slowly. You hear her breath catch in her throat, and you feel the tightening of her muscles beneath your touch. You can sense her internal struggle, the conflict between her ingrained inhibitions and the raw, primal desire that is beginning to overwhelm her.

You continue your exploration, your focus entirely on her pleasure. You use your hands, your lips, your tongue to create a symphony of sensations, each touch designed to ignite a new spark of pleasure within her. You can feel her trembling now, her body arching towards you in response. Your tongue inserts between her folds now, plunging deep into the sweet abyss and caressing her walls. That's when she cries out, a sound so unlike her.

"Nn.... Y-Y/n.... aaah~"

Cantarella Fisalia, the current Matriarch of the long-standing Fisalia family, famously known as The Bane, a Sea Witch, a woman shrouded in so much mystery that the rumours surrounding her betrayed every single truth about her. The woman known to manipulate any, to torture souls and make poisnous concoctions with the flesh of young girls— that woman laid vulnerable for you, the person who saved her and changed her life.

A loud moan escaped her lips when your thumb circled her clit, her thighs closing around your head and body arching up. She knew what this feeling was, she had read all about it in scientific books, but experiencing it was unlike anything. Her fingers found way in your hair, tangling in the strands and gently grasping, a silent indication for you to do more. You raised her hips and plunged deeper into her sea, into her warmth, your tongue stroking her sensitive spots.

"Aaahn.... yes.... r-right there..... o-oh~"

She cried out more, fingers tightening in your hair and pulling you closer. Her hips rut against your mouth, finally letting her desires spill out as she chased her release. You suck on her bundle of nerves, circling her clit faster at the same time. Her body convulsed, back arching and eyes rolling to her skull as her release approached. You could see it, feel it with the way her walls clenched around your tongue in the end.

You did a final stroke and rubbed her sensitive spots then watched her release unfold. She moaned as the knot in her stomanch snapped, her orgasm coming like a broken dam. You slurped and lapped up everything she offered, relishing her sweet poison and wanting even more. You cleaned up her slick before leaning back to look at her state, sweat trickling down her body and panting intensely as she came down from her high.

"Are you okay, Cantarella?"

"Y-Yes.... aaah.... that was.... good.... r-really good.... thank you."

Her hand covered her face as she spoke before slowly removing it to reveal her flushed face, bright red from such an intimate action. The sight was utterly adorable, seeing someone like her in this state. Once composed enough, she slowly sat up and immediately pressed your lips together. Her arms wrapped around your neck while yours around her body, placing her on you lap and making out together. She was just as intense and passionate as before, impatiently seeking you.

Her hands roamed down your body, a frantic exploration that sent shivers down your spine. They clenched at your shirt, the fine fabric crinkling in her grasp before she swiftly pulled it open, buttons popping and rolling across the floor. The cool air kissed your suddenly exposed chest. She then pushed you down to make you lay on your back and took a moment to enjoy the sight, her hands delicately tracing down your muscles and abs, eyeing the scars adorning your battle-worn skin.

You shivered once as her cold fingers traced across the scars, not being used to having your body touched this way. Cantarella simply smiled at your reaction and leaned down to kiss your neck, deliberately sucking on some spots and leaving imprints of her lips. Her engraved tongue gave a long lick from your throat to your chin before biting down near your collarbone, teeth grazing and marking you.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sound that was both surprised and pleasured. Each deliberate caress sent a jolt of electricity through you, unfamiliar yet serene. Her hold on you was more than physical, perhaps she had pulled you into her Sea of Dreams, a potent enchantment woven with her voice, eyes, and her very presence. Her hands now explored further down and settled on your pants button, eager to undo and unravel more of you.

"I want you inside, Y/n. Would you be willing to....?" she asked in an uncertain tone.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" you answered with a smile, making her smile back.

She then wasted no time to undo your pants and pull them off along with your underwear, freeing your erect shaft from the constraints. Your length stood upright, showing your prolonged arousal and how desperate you had become. You watched her eyes flicker over your form, a mixture of awe and something akin to shyness flickering within their depths. Her hand reached out to gently grasp it, delicately wrapping her fingers around it and pumping.

You trembled in place feeling her soft, slow yet teasing touch. A part of you just wanted to be inside her already, but another wanted to wait and let her take the reins from here. Cantarella watched the way your length reacted with great interest, finding it quite adorable even if daunting due to the size. She stuck out her tongue and gave a long, slow lick across it, tasting with the entirety of her engraved tongue.

Your hips almost bucked in response but you held back, keeping yourself composed for her. She grinned at you, eyes glowing with mischief, and you knew you were in for a ride. She did say she wanted to taste you, didn't she....

"Bear with me, will you? It's my first time doing this, it may take a while to get used to~"

"I-It's fine, take your time...."

She smiled then planted a kiss on your tip, followed by making wet kisses all over and around the erect length. Your cock twitched at each touch of her lips, almost feeling embarrassed at the attention she was giving it. She then stuck out her tongue again and made a long lick from your sac to the tip, followed by swirling it over the head. You groaned in response, your body heaving at her ministrations.

"Hmm.... mmph~" she sighed as she wrapped her lips around the tip, her warm mouth engulfing it.

You suddenly became pliant in her hold, surrending to her and letting her do anything. You closed your eyes, abandoning yourself to the sensory onslaught that was about to engulf you. Her mouth felt hot and wet around your cock. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, grip tightening the lower she took you, attempting to swallow it completely. Her tongue swirled around your member, lubricating every corner and lapping it up.

A small groan left your lips when your tip hit the back of her throat, your cock laying snug in her mouth and she seemed to have no plans of letting it go. The sight was beyond erotic, and the sensations were indescribable. She breathed in and out to compose herself, the vibrations going straight through your cock making you throw your head back in ecstasy. You could feel her smile at your reactions, satiating her own desire to see you crumble. She then began bobbing her head, sucking you off at a torturously slow pace.

The wet sounds of her slurping and moaning sent shivers down your spine, chasing away the cool composure you were trying to maintain. The sensation was exquisite, agonizing, driving you closer and closer to the edge. She was taking her time, savoring every moment and every second. You knew this was her first time, but she almost made you believe otherwise with her technique. Her tongue wasted no chance to lap around whenever possible, the little bumps and crevices of the Tcaet Mark increasing the pleasure even more.

"H-How are you so-oh.... good at this?~" you asked, breathless.

She smiled at your praise then slowly dragged herself up and released you from her mouth with a wet pop, her tongue teasingly lapping at the tip as she spoke.

"I'm pleased to hear that since I'm just doing what I want to. Do tell me if I should change it up, my dear~" she winked and dragged her tongue against your shaft, her Tacet Mark rubbing across it as she took a deep taste.

A gasp escaped your lips as the mark tingled against your member. You were already dripping with precum, and the sensations of her warm mouth were driving you crazy. She then swallowed your cock once again like before, taking it all the way inside with minimal effort. Your hips bucked up at the feeling, no longer able to restrain yourself.

"F-Fuck.... I can barely hold on...." you groaned, looking down at her with a desperate look.

She giggled, knowing how desperate and close you were. She wanted to prolong your pleasure, but you both were craving release. Her hands went to massage your sac as she kept sucking, feeling the cum stored in them as it begged to be released. That's when she decided to give you even more, as if this wasn't enough. You suddenly felt a warm, soft and bouncy feeling around your base and looked down to see her breasts enveloping your dick.

"W-Wait.... shit....! Aah.... that feels so good....!~"

You sighed, enjoying the feeling of her breasts. She smirked and rubbed them up and down around your length, lubing the skin with your arousal and her own saliva to create a pleasurable sensation.

"I know what you have desired for so long.... my toxins reveal all secrets of others just by being near." she purred, "And for you.... I'm more than happy to indulge in every single one of them~"

She bobbed her head faster now, cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder as if to milk you dry, her moans reverberating in her throat and vibrating around you. The heat in your lower abdomen became almost unbearable.

"Can— Cantarella...!"

You groaned, hands flying to her hair and gripping tightly. All of a sudden, you felt intense vibrations against your tip and looked around to see jellyfishes floating near, realizing she activated her Tacet Mark now. The vibrations made you finally lose it. The heat erupted, and you climaxed into her mouth, a low moan erupting from your throat. She braced herself as you released, keeping your cock inside her mouth and welcoming the warmth.

The release was almost explosive, plentiful amounts pent-up that erupted at once. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and she eagerly took all of it. Her eyes rolled back as she swallowed, drinking every last drop. You were both panting as you finished. Her mouth finally let go and she licked her lips. You looked down, still recovering from your high, and saw her scooping up the cum dripping on her breasts, sensually licking it.

"Mmm, delicious~ Thick, slightly sweet and perfectly healthy.... hehe~" she mumbled, still licking away the cum on your tip.

You couldn't help but blush from her comments, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Hah.... if I didn't know better, I really wouldn't believe this was your first time." you said while panting.

Cantarella chuckled then came up on your body, pushing you down to lay flat on the soft mattress while she straddled you. The air remained thick with tension and lust still, both of you feeling nowhere near satisfied and craved for more. Her hands cupped your face then slid down your bare body as she slowly stood up on her knees, grasping your shaft and aligning it to her core.

"We'll truly be one in mind and body now, dear~" she purred before pushing herself on your length.

You groaned together, her walls slowly parting to accompany you inside. Warm and mushy sensations enveloped you as you went in, your eyes not leaving the sight at all. You grasped her hips and helped her as she slowly sunk down, then let out a small gasp once it was fully inside. Your body almost arched when you felt the tightness, while she moaned out at the stuffy feeling.

"Aaah.... y-you feel wonderful.... Y-Y/n.... mmh~"

"Y-You too.... hah.... so warm and tight....."

Cantarella’s eyes, wide and a little dazed, were fixed on yours, flecks of silver dancing within their deep blue depths. A faint flush crept up her neck and across her cheeks, a beautiful contrast against her creamy skin. You remained still for a moment, just absorbing the sensation, the sheer intimacy of it, letting her adjust. Her body, so regal and composed usually, was trembling slightly above you. You could feel the rapid beat of your heart in your chest, and you could tell she was the same.

"Are you.... hah.... alright?" you asked softly, gently circling your thumbs on her hips.

She blinked, a slow, languid blink, and a soft smile curved her lips.

“Alright? Y/n, I am… beyond alright.” She reached down, her fingers feather-light as they brushed against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. “This… this is… incredible.”

She leaned down near your face, resting her palms on either side of your head then began to slowly move. Her hips rocked back n forth first, finding the right angle and rhythm, but also enjoying the way your cock scrapped her insides. She softly moaned at the growing pleasure, carefully raising her hips a little to thrust down.

"Aah....! Mmh.... y-you are so deep inside....~"

She began to move faster, finally finding the motion that suited her. Her hips sought yours as she rose and sunk down at a steady pace, sounds of skin slapping of her hips and your thighs echoing in the silent room. You watched her face, fascinated by the play of emotions there– a slight furrow of her brow as she adjusted to the unfamiliar feeling, then a soft sigh as pleasure started to bloom.

The sight of her was marvelous, making you entranced as you watched her breasts bounce with her motions, and the way her walls clenched you to keep you deep inside as if to never let go. You finally dared to move now, giving a little thrust up which made her gasp in pleasure feeling your cock hit her deep spots. She ceased for a moment, a smirk coming on her lips before she leaned down further and embraced you.

You wrapped your arms around her body, her face buried in your neck as she licked and kissed the skin there before moaning in your ear when you started thrusting again. Your bodies stuck closely, a delicious rhythm forming of your hips with hers, and her silky voice moaning in your ear only enhanced the pleasure tenfold. Your hands slid down to grasp her hips, fingers digging in the ample flesh as you bucked up faster, rutting into her.

"O-Oh, yes! More.... w-will you give me more.... aahn.... m-my dear...."

"Y-Yeah.... anything.... this is for you only..... ngh~"

You moved with increasing urgency now, each thrust a testament to the passion that had been simmering between you for so long, finally unleashed in this private haven. Cantarella clung to you, her moans becoming less controlled, more raw, each sound vibrating against your ear and sending shivers down your spine. Just then she sat back up, her palms intertwining with yours, head titled with a sultry look on her face. You braced yourself for the onslaught of her hips, her body bouncing frantically on your cock.

"Aaah.... aah.... R-Rover.... Y/n.... mmh.... more....!~"

You took a deep breath then sat up as well and tightly held her, your face flush in her breasts as you embraced. Her hands threaded through your hair, lacing in the strands while you grasped her hips and thrusted with her.

“Y-Y/n….!” she gasped out, her head thrown back, exposing the elegant curve of her neck. You instinctively leaned in, pressing kisses along the sensitive skin there, tasting the faint salt of her sweat, the intoxicating scent of her perfume now mingled with something wilder, more primal. You felt her walls tighten around you, gripping you fiercely, urging you on. Her breath hitched, and she arched her back, her breasts heaving with each gasped breath.

"I-I'm close... ngh... C-Cantarella....!~" you announced, slapping your hips up.

"G-Go on.... inside.... give it to me..... aahn~!" she urged you, wrapping her legs around your waist and locking you in so you wouldn't pull away.

Normally, you'd have been more cautious. But you couldn't control yourself here, not when you were finally in the arms of the woman you loved, not when you were finally inside her and she wanted you do it inside. You quickened your pace, your own breath coming in ragged gasps now. The world narrowed down to the feel of her body against yours, the sound of her moans in your ear, the taste of her skin as you nuzzled into her neck. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, a spring wound to its breaking point.

You thrust into her one last time, your release crashing over you in a torrent of sensation, hot and blinding and utterly consuming. You cried out her name, a primal sound of completion and adoration, as you emptied yourself into her, your body shuddering with the aftershocks of pleasure. She threw her body back feeling your release filling her up, moaning out at the hot sensations and the way your cum seeped inside her. Her arms and legs completely locked around you, holding you to dear life.

However, you weren't blind to the fact that she didn't have her release, despite her not saying anything about it. You were a little surprised she held on this long and even through your orgasm considering it was her first time, but it also would be unlike the Head of Fisalia to not have a greater willpower and resilience. Not to mention, knowing how she always prioritized others' wellbeing over her own, it was understandable she wanted you to be satisfied first. Too bad for her, you wouldn't be satisfied if she wasn't.

You suddenly turned over and placed her on the bed, her back hitting the soft mattress with a surprised gasp leaving her lips. She watched you come on top of her, spreading her legs open to accommodate yourself. Her eyes flickered when she saw your cock was still hard, brimming with energy as if it didn't just release twice in a span of some minutes. You rubbed it against her slit, grinding over her clit and spreading her arousal.

"You didn't cum, did you?" you asked her, your voice low and soft.

"I-It is alright, I don't want you to exert yourself."

You chuckled, knowing you were indeed right.

"It's not. I told you this is all for you, didn't I? No more suppressing your own desires and wishes. Tell me what you want, I will give it to you no matter what."

Her heart skipped a beat at your words, finding herself unaccustomed to this kind of situation. Her lips parted to say something but she held back for a moment, seemingly thinking over her words. Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken desires. You continued to tease her clit, circling it with your cock, feeling her hips buck slightly against you. She was holding back, you could feel it in her tense muscles, in the quickening of her breath.

"I...." she began, her voice low like a whisper. "I want that.... again...." she eyed to where your bodies were joined, looking at your cock resting on her folds, "And.... I want what you felt....."

Her eyes hooded and lips formed a smile as she spoke, looking at you tenderly. You smiled back and pecked her lips then guided your shaft to her entrance, pressing the tip against her slick folds. She was so wet, ready for you in a way that words couldn't express. Slowly, deliberately, you began to push inside her, parting her folds once again for your length to fill her up. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath, but this time, there was no surprise, only anticipation, hunger.

"More.... mmh.... give it to me..... just engrave me into you!~"

Her unfiltered words sent a wave of pleasure and surge of energy through you, eager to please her and make her see stars. You bucked forward and hilted inside her in one go, immediately hitting the deepest spots in her. She arched up in pleasure, hips bucking into you with a raw moan leaving her lips. You began to move slowly, deliberately, drawing out the sensations for both of you. You watched her face, her reactions, her breath hitching and catching, her body starting to move with yours, instinctively, beautifully.

Her hands, which had been gripping the sheets tightly loosened to reach up to your shoulders, pulling you down and wrapping around, her painted fingernails clawing down your skin. You groaned in her ear, starting to go faster now, bucking your hips with fervour. You felt her walls tighten around you, clenching your member just like before, making you thrust harder. You felt her starting to lose herself, her breaths becoming ragged gasps, body arching and bucking beneath you.

"Yes.... f-faster.... ohhh....! Hah.... Y/n.... I love you.... I love you so much~"

Her sudden declaration of love caught you off guard, but also made you move harder.

"I love you too.... aah.... s-so much for so long.... fuck!~"

You buried your face in the crook of her neck, her left hand reaching up to entangle in your hair and grasp the strands. Her legs locked around your waist and you felt her walls flutter, tightening and loosening all at once and you knew she was close. You breathed against her, groaning as you thrusted faster, the bed moving from your intense pace.

"Cumming.... Y/n.... I'm about to— !~"

She cried out and embraced you tighter as she finally came, an explosive release washing over her making her walls milk you. You sighed at the tight and warm sensations, feeling her release on your cock still buried deep inside. You halted for a minute as she came down from her high, letting her breathe and compose herself. You raised yourself and watched her, face contorted in pleasure, smiling at you affectionately.

You shared a gentle kiss, enjoying this blissful moment. She perhaps expected you to stop now and not continue for a while, judging by the shocked expression on her face when you suddenly raised up her left leg and shifted her on her side, putting her leg over your shoulder. She had no time to prepare as you immediately thrusted inside, hilting to the base once again and setting a frantic, relentless pace.

"Aaahn! W-Wait.... I'm still— hng!~" she gasped, feeling overwhelmed.

"I know... hah.... that's why...." you said with a grin, kissing the back of her held up leg, caressing her porcelein skin.

Your hips drove forward animalistically, driven by the unfulfilled lust that still burned between you, the world narrowing down to the feel of her body against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft slapping of flesh against flesh. All of a sudden, you heard a breathy chuckle from her, followed by the usual confident smirk forming on her face.

"I didn't anticipate.... y-you to go on.... aah— I thought I'd have to.... mmh.... g-give you a stamina potion~" she teased, the way you were used to from her.

"Aaahn.... but I should have known.... it's you, after all— Oh, right there! Show me.... Rover.... Y-Y/n.... mm.... show me what you have~" she challenged, being fully aware of just what you could do.

She wanted to rile you up, to make you lose your sense of control and rail her so she wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. Well, who were you to ever back down from a challenge?

You gritted your teeth and grasped her held-up leg then swiftly flipped her over, making her lay on her stomach. She mewled in pleasure at your rough handling, immediately standing up on all fours and glancing back at you, her eyes half-lidded and beckoning you to carry on. You wasted no time and grabbed her hips to pull her closer then thrust inside her once again, her back arching and a moan coming from her throat in response.

Driven by her challenge, your every thrust becomes a declaration, a raw expression of the desire that has simmered between you for so long. Cantarella’s breath hitches, her nails digging into the plush velvet of the bedsheets beneath her hands. “Y-Yes… like that…” she breathes, the words fragmented and breathless. Her head falls forward, her hands finding it difficult to hold up from your frantic onslaught on her behind.

Your fingers dig in the plush of her ass, kneading it in your palms, feeling her soft and plumpy skin. Her back arches further with each deep thrust, her body a taut string humming with energy. You keep drilling forward, fucking into her as if you wouldn't ever again, giving her what she wanted and more. The sounds of your bodies moving together fill the room— the soft slap of skin against skin, her increasingly louder moans, your own ragged breaths.

"Oh yes...! Just like that.... more.... show me....! G-Give it all to me.... aaahnn!~"

You soon wrap your arms around her waist and lean on her back, your face buried in her silky lavender hair as you keep thrusting, groaning with effort in her ear. She's barely able to hold herself up now from your added weight, but she soon realizes it's your hold that's keeping her in place.

"Ngh.... I think you should be.... mmh.... the o-one to take that stamina potion, hehe~" you tease, increasing the speed and intensity of your hips even more.

She knew what you meant, and you may be right. You then stand back up and suddenly loosen the grip on her, causing her front to lose all strength. Her face gets buried in the sheets with her ass still raised up for you, your cock rutting faster than before. She moaned with your thrusts, a cacaphony of her silvery voice and sounds of skin slapping resounding in the room. She couldn't describe what she felt any longer, her mind clouded by lust and you, just you.

"F-Fuck.... you are so beautiful this way.... aah.... I'm close again....!~"

You grunted then leaned down to rest on her back, pressing her body flat against the bed. Your hips continued seeking hers in this new position, your cock hitting her the deepest than ever. She cried out at how deep you went, the barrage on her sensitive spots never stopping. She looped her arm around your head and raised up slightly then turned her head to kiss you, pulling your head deeper with her looped arm. You exchanged a messy open-mouthed kiss, tongues and breaths mingling before releasing with a gasp as she put her head down to enjoy the pleasurable sensations.

"I-I'm also close.... oh yes.... t-this is amazing.... aahh.... d-don't stop....!~"

You didn't stop. You kept going, as hard and fast as you knew she could take. Controlling your strength at this moment became difficult with how lost you were in lust and the feeling of her— her tight and warm walls clutching around you, her exquisite body pinned beneath yours, her intoxicating scent that overwhelmed your senses, and her angelic voice that continuously moaned for you. You then raised up your body a little, supporting yourself with your arms by keeping them on either side of her, angling your hips in a new way.

You were sure she was completely lost in pleasure now with the way her lolled out, eyes rolled to the back of her head. She knew nothing but the pleasure you were giving her, enjoying the intense thrusts as you drove in and out. You were both reaching your peak now, having held on longer than expected. You pulled her hips into you with your final thrusts, desperately bucking forward to reach your release together. She merely thrusted back into you, feeling powerless to do anything else.

"Together.... are you ready, Cantarella? Mmm.... I'm really close....!"

"Y-Yes.... cum with me.... Y-Y/n.... I'm almost there too~!"

And just like that, the dam broke.

You did a final hard thrust, burying yourself to her depths and released a torrent of hot, unending cum. A guttural cry tore from her throat, not of pain, but of pure, unadulterated sensation. Her body arched beneath you, a wild tremor that rippled through you both. White-hot pleasure erupted from your core, radiating outwards, engulfing your senses. You felt her inner muscles contract around you, milking every last drop of pleasure, and you groaned, a sound lost against her cries.

You fell on her back, panting against her shoulder as your release drew out by the feeling of her walls clencing you, orgasming with you. For a long, drawn-out moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the feeling of her body pressed against yours, the frantic beat of your combined hearts and the slickness of sweat and passion coating your skin. You could feel Cantarella trembling beneath you, her body still radiating heat. You planted kisses on her shoulder and back before embracing her, simply resting together.

Slowly, after some time, you pulled out from her, your cum gushing out with a pop. You helped her turn on her front, her body still heaving from the intense session. She smiled at you and opened her arms in a loving embrace, and you couldn't help but dive forward in her warmness, hugging her back tightly and laying down together. She planted kisses all over your face- starting from your forehead then down to your eyelids, cheeks, nose and finally meeting your lips.

"Are you alright?" you asked, concerned.

The question felt almost ridiculous, given the intensity of what you had just shared. But you needed to hear it from her, needed reassurance that this experience, so new and overwhelming for her, was positive. She pulled back slightly from your embrace, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes, still heavily lidded and shimmering with unshed tears of release and something deeper, met yours.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have found my partner. Exploring the depths of this unknown sea with you was an experience I'll never forget. This night.... is truly a night to remember, and I cannot thank you enough for giving me this, and so much more."

You blushed hearing her words then smiled back, "Me too, it was an unforgettable experience for me as well. And.... I hope from now on you will openly tell your wishes, at least to me. I want to fulfill everything you desire, and give you everything you deserve."

Her azure eyes widened, yours words holding immeasurable weight.

"Y/n, you...." she trailed off in a whisper, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes, "Everything I want, I wish and desire.... is right in front of me~"

You smiled at each other then shared a gentle kiss before drifting into the night, snuggled under the warm blanket. The warmth of her body pressed against yours was a novel sensation, a comforting heat that seeped into you, chasing away the last vestiges of the day’s chill. You could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against your own, each breath a gentle whisper against your skin. The air in the room, thick moments ago with unspoken desires, now held a quiet, expectant hum.

*~*

Morning light spilled softly into the room, golden and warm, brushing over tangled sheets and quiet corners. It stretched across the bed, falling gently on you both as you lay close, faces peaceful in sleep. Sunlight catches in Cantarella's hair, painting it with a soft, honeyed glow, and kisses her shoulders with warmth. Outside, birds sing sweet, lilting songs that drift through the open window, carried on a fresh breeze that stirs the curtains. Leaves shimmer with dew, the world hushed and still.

Cantarella was first to awaken, opening her azure eyes and to be met by the sight of you entangled with her. Her mind immediately recalled the events of last night, a whirlpool of emotions rising in her yet calming down rather quickly after looking at your peaceful face. She smiled and leaned in to kiss your forehead, slightly rising up to rest on her side and pulled the blanket further up on you, tucking you in while humming a soft tune.

"I wonder what you see in your dreams, Y/n, if not nothing at all...." she mumbled to herself in a low voice, "Hehe, look at you.... so peacefully asleep like a baby. Are you really the one who branded me into the sheets last night?~" she playfully tapped your nose with a chuckle, gazing at you with utmost love.

She raised her eyes to look around her room, watching the pleasant sunlight spill in and hearing the chirping of birds. Porto-Veno Castle had never felt this peaceful and serene, but she knew why this was the case now. This quiet, tranquil morning was a miracle granted by none other than you. She felt grateful to have you beside her this way now. Just like you, she also wised to fulfill all your wishes and desires and hoped for you to lead a peaceful and happy life.

She soon noticed your brows furrowing and a groan escaping your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, the sunlight obscuring your vision. She came in front to shield you, caressing your head to calm you down. You then finally opened your eyes and were met with Cantarella's beautiful face staring at you, a look of surprise coming and going on your face as you quickly recalled what had happened last night.

"Good morning, Y/n~" she stated with a smile, coming close to peck your lips.

"Good morning, Cantarella. Are you feeling alright?"

She chuckled and laid back down beside you, gently cupping your face and tracing her fingers along your jaw.

"Better than ever.... even if slightly drained~"

You smiled awkwardly, "Sorry, I'll be careful from next time...."

"Oh, please don't. I'd rather want you to not hold back from next time~"

You chuckled together before laying down in silence, simply gazing at each other, her hand continuing to caress your face in gentle motions.

"I like the way you look at me. In your eyes, even the darkest depths of the sea are made transparent. With you, I am no longer "The Bane." I am simply..... myself." she whispered, her face mirrored in your eyes.

You smiled softly then cupped her face in return, "And you will always be just you for me, Cantarella."

She smiled in return and joined your foreheads together, relishing the feeling of your touch and presence. The soft sunlight brushed through the room, a refreshing fragrance slowly filling the space as jellyfishes floated around you both. She lifted her azure eyes, the mist long faded, her gaze now like a calm sea, with just the ripple of gentle feelings.

[saphig-iawn]

Wish Fulfilment

A part of my hypnosis that never ceases to satisfy me is being able to narrow that gap between someone's fantasy and their reality; that I can speak my words into green ribbon and thread those two ideas together in beautiful lacing so that my dear sweet Dolls can experience their deepest fantasies.

While sometimes that may only last in the session I also love to weave that felt fantasy into a spell or an incantation, that whenever I utter it, all of those sense memories and transformations come flooding back.

My session with this Doll was no different.

Her transformation began with a powerful pulse of pleasure deep between her legs; an irresistable ache swelled and it demanded satisfaction.

Every neuron in her brain was firing with twinned arousal and apprehension, as she knew that the moment she'd begin to stroke was a point of no return.

But the ache grew impatient; her panties pleading with her body to give in lest they give way, oblivious to the traps and transformations I had woven to lie in wait.

Her breathing quickened, her chest heaved, she had to do something. She had to do someth-

She touched.

She gave in.

The ache moaned in relief as she began to buck her hips into her hand, but the relief was shortlived.

She felt her body begin to shift and quiver.

Every part of her began to sharpen and focus into a single goal. She wanted to fight, she wanted to just stroke and stroke but she couldn't ignore the urge that was engorging in her chest, trying to break out.

The urge to moo.

She strained and groaned through flushed cheeks and gritted teeth, but her moans began to lengthen, her pleasure would flourish with each one, it just felt so good to milk her udder.

Seeing the moment she gave in was delicious.

Her back arched as she reached for her swelling breasts, and a long and yearning moo burst through her lips.

Her eyes widened.

She questioned her state with the quietest moo, before being tossed about the waves of the pleasure coursing through her.

My sweet dairy cow was helpless to herself now.

Words began to fail her, her vocabulary leaking away through her udder. But that was ok because she could moo.

Mooing felt right, like there was no other way to communicate how good she felt. Every expression of her breasts and udder felt perfect.

She made such sweet milk for me.

Above all, it just felt so good to see her let go. To let her worries and stresses of being human be washed away by bovine bliss.

She keeps telling me how much she wants to be my dairy cow again, and with a simple uttering of the spell...

She'll have no choice but to be.

______________________________________________________________ Did you enjoy? Here's my ko-fi if you fancy leaving a tip or want to talk about being transformed yourself!~

[angelic--kitty]

lets christen this blog with some arlecchino content

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ 𝖙𝖗𝖆��𝖘𝖋𝖎𝖝𝖊𝖉 ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

dom!arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, strap usage, strap referred to as 'cock,' fellatio, size kink, leash/collar, asphyxiation, fingering, doggy-style

a/n: welcome to my new blog, bun ♡ and thank you for the ask!! as always, you know arlecchino is one of my absolute favorites to write about. i haven't written in a hot minute so, let's see what i can cook up

dividers from @saradika-graphics

she loves the way you look on your knees.

specifically with that expensive red leather collar wrapped snugly around your neck.

and especially with the matching leash attached to it, held firmly in her hand, tugging your lips further down her cock.

ah, and her absolute favorite was when that collar and leash were the only things on your body, not obscuring your nakedness from her whatsoever.

she urges you to take more of her, sliding closer to her base, and you greedily take her into your throat like such a good little pet.

her sweet little plaything she adores so much. it never ceases to amaze her how such a sweet little pet could fit so much into her mouth from just a few praises and tugs of your leash.

her eyes sparkle wickedly when you whimper, almost as cruel as the tightened grip of her hand, limiting your airflow further as she rests her free hand under her chin.

"you're doing well, pet." she chooses her words carefully, untucking her hand from her face to stroke the bulge in your throat as you swallow around the faux cock. "such a good girl, aren't you?"

she speaks to you like you really are just a dumb little pet, as if your only purpose was to entertain her. though, you both know your relationship was much more than that, you couldn't help but delight in the idea of simply being her pretty toy whenever she called.

her hand rests atop your head now, guiding your movements, listening to the slick sounds from your saliva and your soft choking noises as she grinds her hips.

the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes cause her to falter, her thumb tenderly brushing them away as she pulls her cock from your lips. she marvels at the spit connecting her tip to your mouth.

you feel her gently wipe it up, tilting your chin up to look at her with that cute, dazed expression of yours.

"all fours, doll." she doesn't need to say it again as you immediately clamber to perch yourself on her bed, ass up and perfectly presented to her.

her nails dig into your hips as she squeezes the fat, the corner of her lip quirking up at your desperate pushing into her hands.

she reels one back, landing a slap on your thigh that stung slightly when she pulled away. "behave yourself. i don't have the patience for an attitude tonight." she reminds you, pinching your thigh.

she pushes open your legs, eyeing your glistening pussy as she tuts. "you're practically dripping, and i haven't even touched you." she pets your lips with two fingers.

she teases you with the freshly blunted ends, letting you feel the small gesture of love, meant to allow her to entertain and prep you herself. no additional toys needed.

her first finger slides in almost embarrassingly easy, a soft slick noise emanating when she withdraws and pushes back in. she grunts, feeling you clamp down around her. "relax."

"i'm trying-" you huff at her, whimpering when she spanks you.

"it wasn't a suggestion." she sighs, pressing two digits into you, crooking them just so to tease you. she loved to tease you the most, getting you oh so close to the edge, only to rip it away from you.

she rubs up into your g-spot, hearing you muffle your moans in her blankets, clawing at the fabric and resisting the urge to fuck her hand.

just when you think she'll have mercy, she tugs her hand away, lifting her fingers up to her lips to lick them clean of your essence, bringing the remains to your own lips to taste.

she almost smiles at the way you look with her fingers on your tongue. such a sweet pet.

she slides them slightly too deep just to hear you gag before pulling away and wiping them off, lining her cock up with your entrance. she holds your hips steady, one hand's nails digging in just enough to leave light indentations.

she'll never get bored of watching your cunt struggle to take her, how you flutter around her size and sniffle so pathetically into the pillows. she almost feels obligated to comfort you, if not for the fact she knows you can take her just fine. soon enough, you'll be begging her for more.

"good, pet. you're doing very well. spread your thighs wider, relax." her thumb rubs circles into your hip as she eases her strap deeper. "you'll take everything i give you, and you will thank me for all of it."

"yes, sir."

[fourthcrow]

https://www.tumblr.com/fourthcrow/790486239242584064/girl-dadcregan-stark-hcs-pairing-cregan?source=share

Could you do a Robb version please 🥺

── GIRL DAD!ROBB STARK HCS

pairing: robb stark x wife!reader

summary: i mean it's in the title, robb with a baby girl <3

warnings: breastfeeding, robb is a little idiot at first

notes: i know i said my requests are closed but i was inspired to do this (plus headcanons are so easy). might as well just make one of these for all the stark men atp. original post here

i am not gonna lie this man does not know what to do at first. he has obviously known for a while that you were with child, but it doesn't really click that he's gonna have a babe until she's actually born.

robb stands there, completely silent, trying to wrap his head around that that's his little girl in your arms. that he's a father. that he could help make something so precious. she looks like a little angel all swaddled up and held to your chest, her small hands already grasping at her mother. all the while he just stands there 🧍‍♂️ and stares at his newborn daughter. he doesn't snap out of it until he hears your voice. "robb?" and you sound so defeated. "are you upset that she is not a boy?"

robb knows then and there that he would spend the rest of his days proving to you how much he already loves you and your daughter. in truth, he hadn't really thought about the gender of the babe. boy or girl, it didn't matter to him as long it was healthy. "no," his answer is quick, "no, my love. never. she's perfect. you're perfect." and he means it with his heart and soul. of course, the court would be pushy for a son, an heir, but he also knows that you two have plenty of time for more children. right now, all he cares about is the health of you and your girl. he couldn't care less about songs and heirs at that point. there's plenty of time for such worries in the future.

he's so new to all of this, and part of him feels undeserving of such a perfect little girl. it takes some time for him to come around and get involved in the upbringing of your daughter. his life has been so consumed with war as of late, it's so strange to have something so innocent and pure blossom in the midst of the bloodshed. when robb asks to hold her for the first time, he has to double check 1000000x to make sure he is supporting her tiny body correctly. once you reassure him that he's not hurting her, he relaxes a bit, and cradles her to his chest while trying and failing not to cry.

the rush of emotions is just too much. her small hands grasping at his tunic. her little babbling sounds. her chubby cheeks. the way she looks up at him. even your smile as you watch him with his daughter. he loves his family so much, the tears come unbidden

as she slowly starts getting more active, and babbling/cooing more often, robb will have whole conversations with her. his daughter will be nestled in his arms, gurgling on and he'll nod the whole time. "i know, sweetling. it has been quite stormy today."

not to be weird but robb likes to sit and watch you feed your babe. he feels like he's intruding on such an intimate moment, but it never ceases to amaze him just how strong your body is. you do so much already as the lady of winterfell, and nurturing a child is no easy feat. he'll almost always ask "does it hurt?" "we can send for a wetnurse, it is no trouble" but you always tell him that you want to he the one to feed her. and he finds that he also prefers it that way, watching his child suckle at her mother's breast. it only serves to strengthen that bond.

i want to take a moment to appreciate robb stark's hair. it's thick and curly and his little girl was born with a head full of lush hair just like her daddy. robb likes to curl her little locks around his fingers and watch as the downy tufts stay in place. as she gets older, he'd definitely ask you to teach him how to brush and care for her hair. she'll start coming to him for it to be braided instead of you (sorry not sorry. just imagine your daughter perched in robb's lap, prattling on about the dream she had while he brushes through her messy hair and styles it exactly how she likes it. and the big grin he'll wear when she squeezes his neck in a big hug)

GREY WIND. i almost forgot about him. he spends less and less time with robb during the final stages of your pregnancy, always following you around because he knows there's a little life growing inside of you that he needs to protect. (i think it's generally accepted that the direwolves would be the first to know that you're with child. before you would even know) and what little time he did spend with robb would vanish once the babe was born. he's always there, standing guard at the nursery or following you and the nursemaids around as you tend to the little baby. as scary and Intimidating grey wind can be, he is surprisingly gentle with the girl. he'll sniff her tiny little hands and often just sits by her cradle and watches her sleep. that's his little sister, alright?

lady catelyn would share so many embarrassing stories about robb when he was little, mentioning the parallels between him and his own fussy daughter. robb would go beet red every single time.

robb couldn't have imagined his life going any other way. though many of his vassal houses may turn their noses at a girl as a firstborn, he could not care less. his wife and daughter have become his entire world and he'll spend his life cherishing them and protecting them. (but also this man would get you pregnant again like as soon as you say that you're ready for another)

taglist: @snow-blower @nlnny @joygrey @konigslittleliebling ( @littlejoels i think u asked to be tagged a while ago and i completely forgot until now 😭)

comment to be added or removed!

[mephist00o]

sevika wife headcannons !!

tags: some are a bit suggestive..,fem!reader in mind, mentions of jinx and isha being sevikas children,

a/n: not proofread

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Sevika who makes sure her wife never goes to bed angry

Growing up in Zaun, she's witnessed lots of fucked up couples arguing in bar alley ways.

It was just second nature to her.

But as you're reletionship progressed, you two ended up in a really nasty fight that brought up lots of past truamas, and almost severing your bond forever.

Sevika's heart dropped when you first walked oiut that door. It was the first time in her life she felt horrifed at the thought of loosing a person.

After that day she vowed to never let a fight get that out of hand.

Having seen what it does to people, and now to your own guys's reletionship, the last thing she wants is for it to ruin something so good.

Sevika whos love languge is acts of service

Sevika's not the best at using her words, for all she's ever really been expected to do is push her body to its limits to satisfy whoever she's servering.

You introduced Sevika to a whole new world, a world she thought ceased to exist in Zaun.

You're always so gentle and compassionate with her, and at first it freaked the fuck outta Sevika.

As time went on though she learned how to allow herself to have all these new experiences with you. And she'll make sure to repay you for it everyday.

She'll open any door for you no matter wear you guys are going.

If she senses any discomfort or tension on your body, Sevika already has her massage oils warmed and ready.

You told her she didn't need to do all this for you and that her just being there is enough.

She shakes her head and tells you that she loves doing it for you, and it makes her the happiest whenever she seed you're comfortable

Because of you, she learned that she wasn't made for war and that you are her true purpose.

Sevika who dreams about having her family with you

Sevika makes it clear to you that you are who she wants forever.

You two have both talked and are 100% wanting your own kids in the future.

Since then she's been fantasizing about you and your guys's children running around your home.

All the messes, toys scattered across various nooks and crannys, and the random fluids are all worth it in her eyes.

If Sevika from a while ago heard Sevika now she'd be dumbfounded.

Kids were never something she thought about herself having, especially with her work life, and finding someone like that seemed like a childs fantasy.

That obviously changed when meeting you and since then its been on her mind comstantly.

You can always tell when she's in the mood to 'try' whenever she leaves lingering touches near your waist and teases her finger through the hem on your waist band.

Or when she nuzzles in closer to you while you guys cuddle, making sure her breathe hits the one part of your neck that makes you shiver.

All that being said, she's always down when you're down and she cannot wait to grow little versions of you and her into the world.

lmk if yall want more <3

[miyotastic]

我的火焰

author’s note

It’s been a long while since my last piece here and uhh honestly I’m shooked that I ever got the confidence to post such, I just graduated uni and I’ll be free for quite some time now, I hope you guys won’t mind me creeping in yuri, wlw, f!reader x transfem arlecchino although she didn't dick you down in this part.

tw!smut, I love yapping, the first ever smut post in a year probably, etc, please tell me if I should add more warnings cause I got no clue what I'm doing, porn without plot maybe

Arlecchino is such a yearned through and through, expressionless in the outside yet the way she yearns for you inside is another level, during times you're separated for her it feels like her fire was extinguished, longing turning into water that ceases her flames

“Oh Mon amour, If only you know how much I yearned for you throughout the days you weren't there” she says, her voice still holding the authority as she did when she speaks despite her position before you, It’s unpleasant for her to be on the floor but can you really blame her? She’s reduced to such just because of you, her head laid upon your lap as her abnormally warm palm caresses your thigh, the heat lingering on your body as you look down at her “ I missed you too “ you say, she looks up at you, oh those eyes that might end up consuming you if you stare for too long, her nails grasps at your thigh, pressing gentle kisses against them, oh how she missed the feeling of your leg upon her shoulder as she thruster against your cunt, reminiscing that moment. Her hands undoing your undergarments, oh she was a patient woman but just you being there on her couch after weeks of your presence not being there would reduce her into such, She looks up at you, her piercing eyes showing a glimmer of excitement but could anyone ever blame her? you were the epitome of beauty, the roses and peonies in her garden of red spider lillies, everyone would be so enamored of you, she's sure you'd understand right? “ Mon amour, may I? “ she asks, if you knew less you would've thought she was begging maybe she is the desperation in her voice visible yet so faint, You nod “of course my love“ maybe it was your eyes messing with you but for a moment you saw her eyes glisten, It was just your eyes probably. You were cut off your trance as her tongue laps up your cunt, licking stripes and sucking as if it'll be the first and last she'll get to do this with you, she's such a starved woman, your poor legs quivering under her touch, under the feeling of her pleasure, stomach feeling tight in the way you've never felt this for quite some time, it was evident that you missed her too, more than words could say, she kisses your cunt with her tongue, hand gently yet firmly holding onto your thighs, her pants feeling tighter than it normally is, how well she knew her body more than you it was admirable, really. The way her tongue keeps finding that sweet spot or the way her fingers would curl up in those warm gummy walls and make your eyes tear up, your high was near because of her, legs lightly shaking as you almost feel like squishing her between your thighs, yet her grip turned firmer as she held you in place, eyes looking at you warning you to stay still, that familiar look you oh so know telling you to behave, oh you would've came right on the spot, maybe it's her that arouses you or the way she fucks you so well, maybe both, you thought as you came in her mouth, like a hungry wolf she sucked it up, lapping up all your juices like the last meal she'll ever get, she is starved, all of this wasn't enough to satiate her hunger that she endured, you both weren't done yet, and you knew that the show has just begun.

[sinning-23]

Parenthood

OPLA Dilfs with their s/o and their moody teen! Uhhh idk what possessed me to write this but here we go!

D/N= Daughters Name

S/N = Sons Name

Shanks

-Your daughter is literally a witty bundle of joy! She's may not be moody but she definitely had a sarcastic air about her. (Shanks think she gets it from you a little bit)

-She's fast on her feet but also has her pouty moments, most of which occur when she’s told to complete her chores and she'd much rather pretend to steer the ship and watch the water for sea life.

-The most she'll do is roll her eyes and anger her eyebrows but will clear her throat when you use your mom stare on her to get her to 'fix her face'

-"Roll them again and they'll get stuck like that! Now go do what your father asked!" you snap, seeing her scurry away.

-She rarely gives Shanks attitude but when she does she tries to have it come across as joking.

-"(D/N), take these to-" "Sure dad I'll give you a hand.”

“……”

“……”

“I’m telling your mother” he chuckles, the color draining from her face.

“NO WAIT!”

Buggy

-Your son is literally a menace and just as moody as his father, if not worse. You have to deal with constant attitude, eye rolling, and the frequent mumble under the breath.

-Buggy usually catches it and is quick to flick the boys forehead and that also results in a scuffle between the two.

-"Tell your husband to get off my DICK!" S/N shouts as Buggy chases him around the arena.

"WATCH YOU MOUTH YOU LITTLE SHIT! And quite trying to turn your mother on me!" Buggy shouts back, various body parts launching at the blue haired teen.

-Sometims it feels like youre dealing with two children because in the end each of them has and ear being pinched between your delicate fingers.

-"S/N, watch your mouth. Just because you’re a sailor doesn't mean yo need to swear like one. Buggy, darling." You begin sweetly before pinching harder,

"STOP PROVOKING OUR SON TO ANGER!"

Mihawk

-The twins have...rather manageable attitudes when they’re reminded to calm down.

-Hell, when they were born they’d practically sneer at you if their feeding or nap time was off by a milisecond.

-Your son and daughter look closer to you accept the obvious yellow eyes. (You didn't really stand a chance when it came to the eyes,)

-Your son is more subtle with his attitude, giving jabbs to his father while your daughter just flat out doesn't give a shit.

-One day, durring an outting to stock your home with more goods, the twins noticed how everyone that lived on the village you currently reside don sort of....stared and judged them. of course they could care less but tey couldn't help but shoot insults in quiet whispers.

"She's not nearly as alluring to be this witless." S/N states, following behind you but keeping pace with his twin sister.

"If only her mother had swallowed." D/N adds.

You choke at that last one.

-Both you and Mihawk ge your fair share of attitude but all it tasks if the threat of an intense and bone breaking training sessions and all attitudes simply cease.

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

hiiiiii! Some one shot requests for Pazzi! I love seeing Paige hurt and azzi comforting so anything like Paige being sick and Azzi there for her, Paige getting hurt in practice and Azzi worried, Paige getting benched and Azzi supporting her❤️

hi hi, thank you for all the reqs!! i swear sometimes you guys live in my brain, one of the other two will be present in the upcoming chapters, but here’s this for now 🤭

fever dreams (bonus chp)

summary: paige is sick so azzi takes a surprise visit to uconn to comfort her.

cw: just fluff

a/n: sry this is so short, i wrote this at the beach so it’s not really formatted or spell checked sry!!

paige's pov:

my head spins as i open my eyes, immediately regretting my decision. an ache throbs in my head, my throat feels like sandpaper, and every muscle in my body feels tender.

i hadn't been feeling good after practice yesterday, but i had attributed it to the usual pains of conditioning. i knew it was gonna take some getting used to, but this was a different kind of pain.

i swept my sheets over my legs, trying to take my first step. my foot hits the ground, and i become aware of how warm my skin is. a chill runs through my skin, my bones ache at the weight of my body.

i can't ignore it anymore, i'm definitely sick.

a sharp dread works its way through my stomach, relentless and unforgiving. i feel nauseous at the thought of telling coach i had to miss practice already.

it's only been a few weeks into summer workouts with the team, and i'm already gonna get benched. coach is going to kill me. i squint at my phone, the brightness sending a searing pain through my head.

a few missed calls from mom, a couple of insta dms, a handful of texts from my teammates. but my heart sinks when i see no messages from azzi.

my first instinct is to call her, to let her voice soothe my sickness through the phone. just the thought of her soft cadence coats my mind like cough syrup down my throat.

god, i wish she was here.

it's only really been a few weeks since i left minnesota but i couldn't help but feel like we were drifting day by day. she'd called me the first few nights, but things felt different. we were still us, just muffled through the static of my phone.

i know i should've told her i'm sick, but part of me hopes she'll reach out first. i shoot a quick text to geno then close my eyes, hoping to drift away from the pain.

i fall asleep quickly, heavy with sickness. my sleep is light, burdened by the fever and chill of my body. my fever makes me kick the sheets off, just to immediately put them back on after my skin chills.

a soft knock pulls me from my feverish haze, and i blink slowly. all the light in my room has dimmed as the sun cast it's final warmths from outside. i drag myself to the door, every step a conscious effort.

when i open it, i squint in disbelief. azzi stands there, or at least i think she does. worry flickers through her expression as she scans my body. my head feels fuzzy, the edges around her features softened, blurred.

am i dreaming? this can't be real.

"azzi?" i whisper, my voice barely audible. "what-" my throat aches, voice cracking at the first syllable.

even in my dreams, i'm still nervous around her.

i reach out, half-expecting my hand to pass right through her. my fever must be worse than i thought, conjuring up the one person i've been longing to see.

please be real. please be mine for a day.

my hand reaches her forearm, solid and warm. a rush of gratitude wades over me, and for a moment, the pain ceases.

she's here. she's actually here.

"oh honey," she calls out empathetically, "is it that bad?" she pulls me in for a hug, squeezing at my waist. the cool touch of her fingers against my back is soothing, like she carried acetaphetamine under her fingertips.

i didn't realize how much i needed this until now.

i lean into her, resting my cheek on her shoulder. i turn my head, burrowing myself into her neck. i take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. a sweet familiar vanilla and something else uniquely her. my voice muffled by her skin as i speak, "are you real?"

i feel her laugh at this, "yeah, paige. i'm really here," she says, her voice soft but clear. "your mom called me. she said you were sick and all alone."

my heart races at the thought of my wellbeing being her catalyst to come all this way. i imagine her packing a bag, careful and deliberate. reading on the plane, asking my mom for directions, knocking at my door.

she came here for me. she dropped everything and came to see me.

"let's get you back to bed," azzi says softly, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold the weight of my body. she sets me down on my bed, her eyes carefully scanning my movements as i tuck myself in. i pull the sheets over my chin, looking up at her.

she's so pretty, so kind.

she reaches the back of her hand to my forehead, pressing softly for a moment. "you're burning up," she says empathetically. "i'll be right back okay?"

i almost want to reach out and pull her close, tell her she’s the only thing i need. but i let her go, she grabs something from her bag and walks towards the bathroom.

when she returns she places a cool cloth on my head, holding my cheek in her hand. the cloth is nice but it’s her touch that’s really soothing. her careful, loving hands both soothes and brings a new ache to my body.

i worry i’ll never be cured from the ache of needing her.

“thanks az,” i whisper, giving her a soft smile. “mhm,” she hums, “do you want some tea? it should help your throat.”

“oh you don’t have to-” i start, but she’s already heading for the sink.

“do you want lemon or no?” she calls out from the kitchen. i’m impressed, she really thought of everything.

“sure,” i croak out, trying not to strain my voice. in the few short minutes she’s gone, i feel my eyelids grow heavy. i lay my head down, slowly drifting back to sleep.

azzi’s pov:

i pour the hot water into the cup, letting the tea seep. i wrap my hands around it, taking in its warmth.

i walk out towards her, talking to myself, “i brought green tea too but it has caffeine and i figured you should sl-”

she’s already passed out, her blonde hair thrown lazily over her shoulders and face. i watch her chest rise and fall, her eyelashes flutter slightly. even in the dim light of her dorm, she glows.

she’s so beautiful.

i’m almost grateful she’s so deep in sleep she doesn’t catch me staring. i set the mug on the nightstand quietly, climbing into bed with her.

despite my best efforts, she feels the bed shift and takes a few sleepy blinks. once i lay down, she puts her head on my shoulder curling into my body.

it’s a rare moment of stillness for paige, who’s usually so full of life and energy. a wave of tenderness washes over me.

i want more of this, of us.

the depth of my feelings for her scares me, but in moments like this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

her breathing has evened out now, a gentle rhythm. it brings me peace to know i might have brought her some sort of comfort.

the weight of her head on my shoulder sends a wave of sleepiness through me. i wrap my free hand around her back, stroking my thumb across her back. holding her tight, i let myself sleep.

…

when i wake a few hours later, i realize she’s interlocked our hands. her messy hair scatters across my chest.

we’re so close i’m afraid my breathing might wake her. i pull my other hand to feel the cloth on her head. i should change it, it’s already grown warm. plus she probably needs to take some medicine before she sleeps for the rest of the night.

i run my hand down her back, trying to wake her. “paige,” i brush some of her hair out of her face. she’s a deep sleeper, she probably can’t even hear me.

i shake her shoulder a little rougher now, “okay sleepy, time for some medicine.” she blinks slowly, looking up at me, “hm?”

“i bought allergy meds and cough syrup,” i say, starting to sit up.

i reach for my bag pulling out both. i start with the allergy meds, putting two pills in the palms of my hands.

“here,” i hand them to her, reaching for her tea.

she examines the pills in her hands, rolling them around. “these look big,” she complains, mumbling.

"paige, you cannot be almost twenty years old and not know how to swallow a pill,” i tease.

"i can swallow a pill. it’s just that these are bigger than the normal ones,” she protests.

"above average," i put the pill in her hand. "now, swallow."

"that's what she said,” she coughs, laughing.

i feel a smile flicker across my lips. "not to you," i quip, poking her side.

her jaw drops for a moment before closing to pout her lips. "be nice to me, i'm sick," she mumbles.

god, she’s cute.

hearing the rasp in her voice softens my expression “i know, honey. i’m sorry, i just want you to feel better.”

she nods, finally taking the tea from my hands. she winces as she swallows. i put my hand on her back, stroking softly.

“good job,” my hand lingers for a moment too long before i pull it away.

“do you wanna watch a movie? i have love and basketball downloaded on my laptop,” i ask, reaching for my laptop.

"how you gonna come over to take care of me then play your favorite movie?" she croaks, her voice still raspy.

"see you’re already feeling good enough to argue with me," i smile, putting on the movie anyways.

like always, we fall into a comfortable silence. i hold her close, tracing the lines on her palms with my fingertips.

it isn’t long until i feel her start to fall asleep again. she closes her eyes, “please stay,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

of course, i’ll stay. i’d stay here forever if i could.

“i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” i take her face in my palms, kissing her forehead. “get some rest.”

“promise?” she asks, her soft blue eyes stirring up emotion deep inside me.

i wanna kiss her again. like really kiss her.

“i promise,” i whisper back, running my hand through her hair.

as i watch her drift back to sleep, i come to a realization. i came all this way to take care of her, but being here, holding her in my arms, feeling needed- it’s healing something in me too.

maybe she’s all i need.

[desperateknot]

I swear this one has no right to make as much sense as it does.

Swap Ishqueg/LCB Queequeg AU.

La Manchaland's Fashionita ID Queequeg uptie story:

The child... didn't really have a choice. It was either becoming a mindless Bloodbag or becoming her Daughter.

For her, turning into a Bloodbag would be no better than turning into a Mermaid. That was why...to save herself...Just like back then...

Still, she managed to run. She managed to runaway from that mockery of an amusement park.

Now, it is time for her to return to her original quest.

That bastard has to be alive still. She'll find that crone, tear her heart into pieces, and then drink her blood.

Before that though, she'll have to get over this fear of water.

She feels as if she might be dying already. The water is lodging inside her hair, soaking her clothes, seeping through her skin. Soon, she would explode-

The child stopped that line of thought. She tried to remind herself that there was no real basis for her fear, yet she couldn't stop herself from trembling.

Whose fault is it that she has to suffer so much?

Her red eyes accidentally met the make-shift orange ring on her finger, before closing themselves shut.

Outis: Did you really think you can escape us?

The child had heard the sound of footsteps accompanied by scissors snippings from faraway, yet she found within herself no will to flee or fight.

Outis: The dress I especially made for you...Do you have any idea how much fabric I have to spend for that?

She would rather tear off her own throat before laying a finger on that woman. For, of course, she was her dear Mother.

Outis: Selfish child. Have you ever even spared a thought for your poor parent?

For reasons she can't seem to recall, the child knew what was about to happen next. As if it all had happened before.

Thus, she kept her eyes shut, waiting for the punishments to be over.

When she was dragged back home, that question still plagued her:

"Whose fault is it that I has to suffer so much?"

It would be so much simpler had she just obeyed her Parent.

Outis: Here in La Manchaland, there is no need for you to mourn.

Outis: You will never again have to confront the people who were hunting you! You won't need to avenge for those whose faces you have forgotten!

Outis: So be a good child, would you, Telema-? Your Parent always knows best.

Being a well-behaved and obedient child of the family, being a good sister is not at all a difficult task. In fact, for her, it is like second nature. It's almost as if she has done all of this before.

It's certainly much more pleasant than forcing herself to confront the fear of water.

Snip. Snip. She is trembling, but this time, it is of excitement. Finally, she has something to quench that familiar thirst. She can't help but suck on her thumb, thinking of the mouth feel of the fresh meat.

Once upon a time, she was a maggot fed on the rotten, filthy human flesh. Now, she finally has the privilege to sink her teeth into their still fresh bodies, tender skin and warm blood, listening intently to the faint breath that would soon cease.

Snip. Snip. Her body moved on its own. When she dons the mask, it is nigh impossible to control herself or remember who she is. But all that just feels natural.

Maybe, she was born for this. She mused as she danced with the mangled corpses.

Everything feels deeply familiar, almost as if she was just returning home.

And, if that was the case, things become significantly more straightforward.

Protect her home. That was what she was tasked to do. That was what she was born to do.

Born? Born. She was born.

Snip. Snip. She suddenly felt an uncomfortable sensation on her ring finger, as if something was actively tying her down.

It's the make-shift ring again. Now, fully dyed red of blood.

She could no longer remember why it was there, but surely, it couldn't be that important.

Snip. Snip.

When the strands of sunset scattered through the crimson red streets of La Manchaland, the child could swear she heard a stranger's voice.

???: Wrong question.

???: For whom. For whom do we suffer so much?

She mustn't let those things trouble her, though, lest she upset her dear family.

Still, there might just be one thing that she couldn't help but secretly complain to herself.

She couldn't see the sunset from here.

Was there something she was supposed to do? She couldn't remember anymore.

La Manchaland's Fashionita ID Queequeg voicelines:

Identity Obtained: Protect the family...huh.

Uptying: Aha. Ahahahaha. Cut it. Already cut it all!

Reasoning: The Bloodfiends are kind of like the Middle in the sense that they are a metaphor for a fucked up abusive family that Queequeg can't escape from. To be a Kindred is like to be born again. Themes of rebirth is already present in Canto V. So this is a rebirth for Queequeg, but it's twisted and fucked up.

Queequeg called herself a maggot before, surviving off people's deaths. Bloodfiend Queequeg makes this more literal by sucking on humans' blood to survive.

The Bloodbags, in a sense, are quite similar to Mermaids, something that Queequeg absolutely does not want to become.

Canon Queequeg always wears a mask when fighting for Ahab. Bloodfiend Queequeg conveniently has a mask made by the Barber too.

The Fashionitas' design has rose motifs, which is a red flower, which could be read as a reference to The Little Mermaid, one of Queequeg’s source materials. The Fashionitas' design conveniently has scissors to cut the rope (ring) that connected her to a certain special person that she could no longer recall, which is even more poignant when you remember how she can't go to the sea anymore, because Bloodfiends are afraid of water. Hence, she can no longer reunite with Ishmael.

Too bad that Bloodfiends aren't weak to sunlight, or it would be even more angsty. Imagine. Pacifying her. With the gentle sunset.

Bonus:

Moby Dick Queequeg is said to have been a cannibal before the events of the book and preferred rawer meat.

Vampires don't have reflections on silver mirrors. This is very elaborated, but I feel like it would be thematically fitting if Queequeg doesn't see a reflection of herself in mirrors because of her lack of individuality. It was only when she was with Ishmael that she had any real desire of her own. But right after that, her desire was overwritten with Ahab's.

Personal notes:

There is a reason why she is sucking on her thumbs on the uptie art 👍

Also, I think Bloodfiend's Queequeg uptie art is the best piece I have ever drawn for her. I like the quality of the colour and the fake linearts and everything. However, the pre-uptie Bloodfiend Queequeg art is the most Queequeging Queequeg I have ever drawn, even though she is in a pretty feminine dress. I have a tendency to make all the characters I draw look feminine, even the male characters. Queequeg is the most masc character I have ever been obsessed over, so it's a force of habit.

I actually made a YouTube video of Bloodfiend Queequeg uptie story too: https://youtu.be/56rG1v-0Lv4?si=RgzpvZsPkQ84myZf

By the way, I made almost the entire thing before Part 2 of Canto VII, so I didn't touch the main plot of Canto VII a whole lot. In this mirror world, Queequeg was still a Sister of the Middle, left and joined Pequod, and when Pequod crashed, she returned to land. She wandered in La Manchaland some times later after their 200 years quarantine and got turned into the Barber's Kindred. Now that Canto VII is done, I think Dulcinea would fit her a bit, too, at least superficially. They are both...purple princess (and yes, Queequeg is a princess).

[barbreadsbooks]

Wheat in Wartime —

Chapter Six: One Breath at a Time

word count: 3.0k

warnings: grief, crying, hurt/comfort, swearing, implied/referenced child abuse

a/n: everyone needs a ridoc gamlyn in their life.

masterlist | ao3

—

I used to brush your hair when we were young together. Now I find a last strand in the planter and give it to the wind again. We can't save the dead but we can free them. — Personal Account of Joseph Fasano

—

I haven't stopped looking at her bed since we got back from Gauntlet training. I made it to the top after Aurelie fell, simply because I was too shell-shocked to do anything other than what I was told. But when Emetterio had us line up to go again, I just kept walking back to the Citadel.

No one stopped me.

Gauntlet training was our last class of the day, so I don't skip any of my lessons. But I don't join my squad for dinner, either. Violet and Rhiannon both squeeze my shoulders on their way out, but they don't stay. I don't want them to.

I take off my boots and pull my knees up to my chest and just stare. Her bed looks the same as it always does—she grew up in a military family, so she makes her bed every morning with crisp preciseness. Her pack is tucked under her bed with all of the straps carefully inside it so she doesn't trip over them. Her school bag is on top of her bed, at the foot, ready to grab for our study session tonight. Everything is exactly as she left it. It's all ready for her to come back to.

And she never will.

I tuck my head into my knees and cry, my gasps the only noise in the entire barracks.

—

I'm not sleeping. I'm laying down on my side, under the sheets, but I can't get myself to look away from her things for one moment. Like if I do, she'll cease to exist.

The barracks door opens, and there's a couple murmurs, some quiet footsteps, and then a body is blocking my line of sight. No, not just a body.

Ridoc.

He crouches down to be eye level with me and gives me a soft smile. "Hey, Jo," he says quietly. "Got room for one more?"

I furrow my eyebrows at him—the first expression I've pulled since Gauntlet training. He wants to get in my bed?

"We agreed to sleep together, didn't we?" His lips are pulled into a slight smirk, but his eyes don't share its humor. "I don't want you to be alone right now."

His voice is so soft. I can't help but nod, biting my lip to hold back my tears. He's on his feet in a second, and I see he's already in his sleeping clothes. I start to move over, but he beats me to it—he rolls me to the edge of the bed while he gets under the sheets, then rolls me back into him so my head rests on his chest. I fist my hand into his shirt and hold on tight as the tears spill out of me in waves.

Ridoc brings his hand up to the side of my head and tangles his fingers in my hair. He lightly scratches the base of my neck, then presses his lips to my forehead and murmurs against my skin, "I've got you. I've got you," until my tears carry me to a restless sleep.

—

I wake up early, just like I normally do, but the motivation to get out of bed is nonexistent. But I know if I don't do it now, I won't ever, and Aurelie wouldn't want that.

She still existed, even if she's not here now, and she deserves to be honored.

Ridoc is still in my bed, his arms still wrapped around me, but he stirs awake when I sit up. He shakes his head and his curls brush against his forehead. He just looks so soft, especially with his face still pressed into my pillow, his eyes still half-closed.

He catches me looking at him and he smiles softly. "Hey," he signs. "Feeling better?"

"No." I sigh and shrug. "But I can't hide forever."

"I mean, you could." I turn around fully to face him, my legs tucked in front of me, and he continues, his signs sure and steady. "You're pretty sneaky, you could probably get away with it for a while."

I huff out a laugh, and judging by the smile that breaks out over his face, that was his only goal. We just look at each other, him still laying down, me sitting up, for what feels like hours, but I know is only a few seconds. "Thank you, for coming. And staying."

"I told you, Jo: anything for you." He's smiling again. "And I'll come for you anytime."

I roll my eyes at his double meaning and shove his shoulder, but there's not weight behind it. He got me smiling and laughing, I could never be angry with him.

He stands at the same time I do, pulling me into a tight hug that doesn't last long enough. Then he's kissing my temple and walking out of the barracks before I can even register how cold I am now that he's not here.

I dress slowly for my run. I pull my hair back into its usual two braids, lace up my shoes, and walk out of the barracks.

Right into Liam.

"Jo, thank fuck," he breathes. He catches me before I can stumble, but he keeps his hands tight around my arms. "I overheard at dinner last night, is Aurelie—"

"Dead," I sign with a nod. "Gauntlet training." I thought I had cried all of my tears last night, but even more pool under my eyes. "I didn't reach her in time."

"Hey, hey." He pulls me into a hug and holds me to him, one arm around my shoulders and the other hand on my neck. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault."

It sure as hell feels like it is, though.

I keep my head tucked into the crook of his neck and my arms tight around his waist. I can't remember the last time I cried this much. Liam just holds me tighter, and I am so grateful he's still alive.

We're alive, we're alive, we're alive.

—

Aurelie's parents decide not to have her things transferred home. Anything that can be used—uniforms, boots, spare ink and quills, even unused notebooks—is taken to Central Issue for redistribution. Everything else is burned to Malek.

Violet helps me put Aurelie's things into the pack under her bed. "Want me to go with you?"

I almost sign no, that I can do it on my own, but I really don't want to. I was the last person she saw, the least I can do is put her soul to rest, but going by myself sounds terrible. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

She smiles at me, then attempts to take the pack, but I just give her a look, and she relents. The gesture is kind, but she and I both know this pack will be too heavy for her by the time we make it all the way up the stairs of the academic wing. Besides, I need to carry it—I need to carry the last of her.

Dain is waiting outside the barracks door when we exit. He looks us both up and down, and I'm too emotionally exhausted to bother averting my gaze, until his eyes settle on me. "I can take it up there—you don't have to do this."

But I do. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but this is my responsibility. I was the last person she ever saw alive. She was my friend; I'm going to do this."

He nods, and I wonder how many friends he's had to do the same for. No wonder he's so overprotective of Violet, I'd avoid this feeling again at all costs.

Violet smiles at him and his entire demeanor softens. "We've got it. Thanks for checking in."

"'Course." He smiles at her, nods at me, and lets us continue on our way.

The burn pit is nothing more than a steel drum at the top turret of the academic wing that is constantly burning. There are a couple cadets up here, but they pay us no mind. It's not until I take the pack off that I realize I have no clue what I'm doing. "I've never gotten this far before."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "You've never had to burn anyone's things before?"

I shake my head. Fucking unheard of in war times, but Alic's things were left to burn at the college while his body was brought home, and his things in the castle were taken care of by the staff in the dead of night. Not that I wanted to witness it—I hope his soul is burning in hell.

"We can do it two ways: empty the pack into the pit and then throw it in, or just throw the entire pack in with everything inside."

I stare into the flames. What would Aurelie want?

"Let's throw the whole thing in."

"You sure?"

I nod. "She wouldn't want us to mourn too long." Then I crack a smile, which nearly sends Violet into shock. "Besides, I think she'd want to see how high the sparks will go."

Violet grins right along with me. "I think you're right. On three?" She counts us down, then we shove the pack over the lip of the pit and watch the embers shoot up above us and glow bright in the night sky.

"That was five feet up, at least."

"Really? I think it was six." She nudges me with her elbow and I smile back at her. "Want to go back?"

I look out over the rest of the Citadel, this vantage point the best in the quadrant despite the late hour, and shake my head. This is the best I've felt since Aurelie fell two days ago—I want to enjoy it while it lasts. "The courtyard?"

"Hell yes."

It's well past curfew by the time we make it back outside, but neither of us care. The weather is just starting to turn, finally settling into the comforting cool of mid-September. The weight that's been sitting on my chest for the last two days finally lifts, and I take a deep breath.

Violet's looking at me when I open my eyes again, and I realize she's looking at my scars. I don't cover them up or move away, though, I just let her look. I can see words floating around in her head, and I'm more curious to hear what she has to say than concerned she'll judge me for the raised scars on my neck.

"You were mended." Her eyes trace the largest scar, stretching from my right side of my jaw to my left collarbone. "My brother was a mender." She fiddles with the end of her hair that's been braided down her back. "He was the best the college had ever seen, apparently—even better than Nolon."

I have yet to visit the current mender on staff in the college, and I'd like to keep it that way.

"Can't fix what's wrong with me," I sign with a shrug. "Though," I smile at the thought, "my brother would smack me upside the head if he knew I just said that."

"He believes there's a cure?"

"That there's nothing wrong with me." We cross the courtyard and sit near the perches the dragons landed on for Parapet, eyes on the grounds below. "He's right, I know he is. It's not my fault I am the way I am, and just because my dad is an asshole that thinks I need to be fixed doesn't mean I'm broken in the first place."

Violet nods slowly. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her forearms on them. Her voice is quiet when she speaks. "I do feel broken sometimes."

I mirror her position and keep my eyes on her. It's common practice to maintain eye contact with whoever you're talking to when you sign. Even though she's not signing, I don't want to discredit what she's admitting to me. What we're admitting to each other.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm one good breeze away from falling apart completely. My connective tissue is all sorts of fucked up."

"That's why you wrap your knees in the morning, isn't it? So they don't dislocate."

She nods slowly. "Yeah. I should probably wrap my shoulders, too, but those are a bitch to do by myself."

"I'm happy to help, if you want." My lips curl up into a light smile again. "I'm up as early as you are."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure."

Violet pulls her hands to her chest and settles back against the stone behind her. "You know, I thought you hated me when we first met. You wouldn't even look me in the eye until two weeks ago."

"Yeah." My hands go a little clammy, but I don't wipe them off on my pants. She might not know who I am, but she doesn't need to know she still scares me. "You've got a big name, Sorrengail. I wanted to figure out who you are in spite of it."

"And?"

I crack a wry smile. "Tolerable."

She rolls her eyes. "Fuck off."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm still on the fence about Aetos."

Her laugh rings out crystal clear out in the courtyard. Both of our eyes go wide, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, but no one comes out to investigate in the minute we stay quiet. She moves her hand away and sighs in relief, but then the door leading to the ridgeline for the Gauntlet opens, and we're both scrambling to hide in the shadows nearest us.

Three figures walk into the courtyard, each one bigger than the last. Two of them are speaking, and their voices are hushed, but animated. I look at Violet and sign to her, "Do you recognize any of them?"

She shakes her head, but the third person speaks up, and then she nods. "Riorson," she signs at me. "The other two must be Garrick and Bodhi."

I've managed to stay out of our Wingleader's way since the Parapet, and I do not feel like breaking that streak tonight.

The three of them make it all the way to the door to the dormitories, but the one in the middle stops and turns back toward the courtyard.

"You good?" one of them asks.

"I'll meet you inside." Xaden waves them away, and then his eyes land directly on me, still hiding in the shadows. He doesn't move until Garrick and Bodhi are behind the closed door, then he crosses the courtyard before either of us can come up with an escape route. "You're out past curfew, Graycastle." I inhale sharply, and he shakes his head. "Thought you wouldn't get caught?"

I'm about to plead guilty, but his words register in my head and I tilt my head at him. "Why the fuck would I be out past curfew if I thought I would?"

"Stupid location to pick if you want to avoid detection. Stay right there, Sorrengail, I'm not done with you," he says when Violet shifts on her feet. He narrows his eyes at me, but turns to my squadmate when he's done assessing. "This is the second time I've caught you past curfew. Care to explain yourself this time?"

She tilts her chin up at him and looks him directly in the eyes.

Ballsy.

"We were burning our squadmate's things. Thought we'd air out our clothes before going back inside."

I smile at the lie. I doubt Riorson will buy it, but it's a good effort all the same.

"You're not getting any better at lying."

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I do." His voice is lethally calm. "It's like you're begging me to kill you at this point." I roll my eyes and huff out a breath, but it's enough to get his attention. He turns back to me and frowns. "Something funny, Graycastle?"

"Most people that want someone dead don't taunt their target about how much they want them dead—they just kill them." It's my turn to look him straight in the eyes, and, while I know he can kill me with one flick of his wrist or one thought in his mind, I'm not nearly as scared of him as I should be. "I think you're too curious to kill her."

He pulls his head back just slightly, like he's surprised by what I said. Or maybe he's shocked that I figured out the truth. "Interesting theory, Graycastle. But if you don't want my deadly intentions to focus on you, you'll keep your thoughts to yourself." He turns back to Violet to say something else, but he looks back at me with a raised brow, and I know I'm being dismissed.

I turn to Violet and sign, "I'll wait for you in the hall," before I look at our Wingleader one more time and hope he gets the message.

She better make it to the hall.

It takes five minutes, but she meets me back in the hallway looking no worse for wear. And when she meets my eyes, she smirks at me. "I wish you could've seen his face after you left, Joan. He didn't know what to say for at least thirty seconds, he was just gaping."

I snort out a laugh and smile to myself. "I'm just glad my head is still attached to my body. He might tolerate you, but I don't think the same courtesy will be extended to me."

The barracks door doesn't creak as we open it. The mage lights don't get any brighter than their dim glow, and we manage to shower and change without waking anyone up.

Before Violet can go to her bed, I gently grab her arm and sign quickly, "Thanks for going with me."

She smiles brightly. "Thanks for letting me." Then she slips off to bed.

I brush my fingers along the covers on Aurelie's bed and sigh, before following close behind.

She's not coming back.

—

reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

taglist: @bookwormysblog @lagrandeourse @ginandbones @mariahoedt @fairchild06

[irisfixation]

knights getting mindbroken. you agree. enjoy

"She's just ahead. Let's get ready." It wasn't difficult to make it this far. The palace was left in ruins decades ago, and the few guards still under her spell were little more than shambling corpses, easily dispatched by your party. You expected a little more, to be honest: some final bastion of opulence at the place's heart, as it were. But no - here it is, the throne room of the "empress of ruins"'. Once a feared tyrant, now little more than prey to be put upon your sword. If she's anything like her guards, you doubt it'll be harder than any other job.

She doesn't look like the stories. Once, she might have been adorned in all her fineries, hair tied back and dress magnificent. Now, though, she's little more than a haggard, scrawny wretch. You can see the bags under her eyes all the way from the boss door, let alone the rags and stolen traveler's attire she's wearing. One of your party members can barely stifle a giggle.

"Hold it," another commands. "She'll see us if we draw any closer. We should prepare." A tedious task, really, given how easy the journey thus far has been. Still, you acquiesce. One hireling takes a detour in search of something that piqued her interest, another sets about marking spell-circles into the earth beneath, a third makes camp and begins preparing your rations, and so on, and so forth.

You - you scout out at the thresholds of the gate, watching the once-empress as she lays unmoving. You rehearse battle stratagems in your head, reflect on the research conducted by previous adventuring parties, the whole nine yards. "She'll get desperate when she's wounded enough-" you recall, "so conserve your strength until then". You'll cover for the rest of the party to start, and then-

Her glare snaps you back to the here and now. Oh, shit. The tip of your boot has crossed the ruined threshold; you can just make out where the microfilament runes across its border intersect with your foot. She knows you're here.

That's fine, you reassure to yourself. The rest of the party should be ready soon enough - and besides, you're the best of the bunch. You'll hold her down until then. Your armaments gleam in stark contrast to her sorry state as you step forwards.

She lurches forwards, a slow and dreary movement. Fine by you. You take your stance, and call out with sheer heroic might in your voice. "Give it up, would-be empress! Today, your feeble reign finally comes to an en-"

In a blink, she is upon you, barreling with the speed of a starving and maddened wolf. You barely have time to call to your allies and attempt to swing your sword before-

A single outstretched finger presses upon your forehead. Her hand is gnarled and dust-caked, but the point of the nail is pristine as crystal. You watch as the frantic charge of your allies slows to a crawl, then freezes entirely. Time magic? No, it's more like your mind's been trapped within a single moment - like the compressed moment of time spent trying to catch something in mid-fall, magnified hundredfold.

You recoil. And as you do, you feel something worm its way out of you, plucked from your skull. It twists and gravitates towards her, gossamer-thin filament of gold and scarlet, wrapping around her finger like a ring or snake.

The shock of the moment ceases. She's barely two feet from you, and as frail as the dust upon her kingdom - your hands clench upon cold steel, your blade moves to seek her head -

"Stop."

Your body seizes up, arms and muscles pulling to a taut rictus. You can't even bring yourself to fall over in defiance - you feel your limbs pull into the closest approximation of a bow they can manage. She looks at you with icy eyes, and you realize your comrades aren't doing anything. Are they even there? You cannot hear their breaths, cannot turn to look-

"Kneel. Goodness, you were easier than I expected."

"What in hell's name did you- take from me-"

"Your ability to disobey orders," she says, her voice low and measured. She's clearly enjoying hearing herself talk, which sickens you all the more. "The only thing keeping the 'self' from being consumed by the 'other' - your soul. Your free will. You really didn't even expect this much?" "The kingdom," you sputter, "will have your head for this-"

"Silence." Your tongue is stilled in your own mouth; your own breath feels too there, too physical upon your throat and lips, like breathing and swallowing smog.

"The -kingdom- will arrive here too late, if at all," she rebuts. "I never needed anything more than a singular doll to rewrite, after all." She lifts your head to meet her gaze; her smirk does not reach their depths. "And would you look at that - a cocky, self-assured knight, delivered right into my lap. But of course, I only let you down here in the first place because of your incompetence."

Fuck. No wonder the journey had felt so easy, that all the actual moments of drama and risk just happened to work out in your favor. Had she engineered every last one of them? Just for - what, this?

"If I was -actually- worried, I would have vanished before you even arrived here. Unlike you, I actually take my position -seriously.- Now! Beg for me, please."

"of course my goddess please i am yours i am yours forever i'll serve you to the day i die please use me however you wish" The words spill from your mouth before your conscious mind has a say in the matter. "my life is yours it always has been nothing else matters" You try and bite them back, to deny them, but they sear something into you: your mind conjures images of a parasite tunneling down through brain matter.

"Exactly. And I'll keep doing this, one pitiful would-be hero at a time."

She looks down at you again, and you witness her wreathed in a halo of eyes; each reflecting a vision of your life, your loved ones, your family, your life, your memories. A million different reflections of how they could be snuffed out if you dared disobey your new Empress - of how much you possibly have to lose, more than you could ever truly understand-

"There's nothing your little 'kingdom' can do about it. Certainly nothing you could."

She's right. Of course she is.

"Now, please go to sleep for now-"

---------

(the end! for now, anyhow)

[acreaturebythewater]

WIP WHENEVER

thank you for the tags @graysparrowao3 and @darkurgetrash <3

tags for @lizziemajestic @krawwan @lemonsrosesandlavender @arach-tinilith if you want to <3

here's something from ophelia's magnae accessio :D

Ophelia von Valancius is used to getting what she wants. Even when she was simply known as Ophelia Stubbs, the third generation ruler of a whole star system of wonderfully corrupted thieves, she still got what she wanted.

That never meant her desires came easily to her, thieves are, after all, opportunists, a finer expression for turncoats and backstabbers, meaning at times goals had to be reached by force, and at other times the price was higher than Ophelia ever could have imagined. 

Nonetheless, that is all in the past now. The newfound knowledge of the blood surging through her veins turned her world on its axis, and with it her desires. It had been difficult to accept at first, the nagging feeling of the whole revelation being a long run con never fully ceased, but with every battle won, with every betrayal shot down, the desire to take her seat on the throne grew stronger. 

It's so close she can taste it. The voices of thousands of her charges gathering to see her assert her right to Theodora's legacy echo from the streets and through her cracked open door to the balcony, and they're all there for her. 

The last obstacle should be an easy one, but judging by the fussing of the maids, it might as well have been as difficult as getting out of Rykad. 

At first glance, the gown might be considered simple compared to the flamboyant creations the other nobles wear. High-collared — as she prefers it — with bare shoulders, but the midnight blue silk hugs her body in all the right places, and when she moves, light catches on the tiny beads embroidered on the skirt, making it look like a galaxy. 

Much to the dismay of the maids, Ophelia has chosen to keep her hair down, though she still lets them fuss about with the make-up, by now they know what she likes. 

Another sweep of blush on her cheek before Ophelia raises her hand. The maid stops immediately.

“Leave me,” she says. 

The maids scramble to vacate the room. 

It's rare for Ophelia to have a moment of peaceful solitude, she cherishes every second of it, quietly observing herself in the mirror. 

Her heart beats like a field drum within her chest, an equal mix of nerves and excitement, but her hand is steady as she reaches for her lipstick. The blood plum red stands in stark contrast to her pale skin, a colour she's used as long as she can remember, as much a safety as the rifle she usually carries on her back. 

As always with her moments of solitude, it gets prematurely interrupted, this time by the sound of the door cracking open. 

Do people not even have the decency to knock anymore? 

“I said I wanted to be left alone,” Ophelia snaps without tearing her eyes from her reflection.

“My apologies, Lord Captain,” Abelard says from the door. “It’s time.”

The scowl immediately drops from Ophelia's face, a soft smile taking its place. 

His presence soothes her nerves, warmth and safety caressing her racing heart. At the same time it overwhelms her, desire surging through her body with a force that has her lose her breath for a moment. 

There's also the uncertainty, between running across galaxies and dealing with the workings of her ship, there hasn't been time to talk through what happened between them. 

There won't be time for that today either, for now she'll just be happy to see him. 

She stands up, twirling once with silk flowing around her before facing him.

“How do I look?” she asks, now grinning from ear to ear. 

Abelard’s face is unreadable, his lips pursing ever so slightly. His natural eye stays put on her face, but the red lens of his ocular implant twitches downward.

“Suitable for the occasion, Lord Captain,” he says, tone short.

It takes all her strength to not show her disappointment, hiding the lump in her throat by taking another look in the mirror, applying another layer of lipstick to already immaculate lips. 

"Fantastic," she says, walking past him without batting an eye his way. "Let us begin." 

[oops-all-concrete]

BG3 fandom! I have more headcanons- but first!!

I must issue a very loud

⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️

For The Dark Urge playthrough of Baldurs Gate 3! There is no further warning below the cut, so if you care not to be spoiled, do not continue to read!

For those of you interested- ahead lies: Angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, mentions of death, no MCD or any perma-death anyway, and lots of love. Greif and pain and emotional hurt are heavy themes as well!

Last warning! ⚠️Spoilers ahead⚠️

I've just gotten to this point in the Dark Urge run (where you reject Bhaal and fucking) DIE, and DUDE- I am stunned companions say NOTHING to your LITERAL DEATH after rejecting Bhaals gift or whatever. (Not in the scenes anyway) So, I'm writing how I think they'd respond cinematically, because your lively Durges deserve to be mourned and loved.

(Of course in-game this would be limited to the dialogue, but I've describes how they would be animated anyhow)

Lae'zel -

She's running to Durge the moment they start lifting from the ground, but pauses once their eyes start rolling back and blackening. There's something beyond her control happening, and she needs it to stop- and it does. With Tav hitting the floor eyes black, soul gone. She's immediately yelling at the others to do something, hand her a scroll, something- but nothing is working. Her shoulder slump after a good few minutes. And finally her voice breaks. She holds a hand to her chest as she wails in agony, holding her Tavs body like it's the last time- because to her- it is. "My angel, my moon. My great protector. I have failed you" She hisses, eyes scrunched shut.

Shadowheart -

She's been afraid her whole life. But even in the face of Bhaal, she will not be afraid if it means Tav will be safer. She immediately casts warding bond, if they're in danger, she'll halve it. If you're going to get hurt, so shall she- and she's okay with that. "Hang on-!" And then it all goes black, she falls without a word or scream, but she's content. If she dies protecting Durge, she cannot ask for better.

(After cutscene convo) Once Durge has been revived by Withers, it's up to them to get a scroll and revive her from the bloodied mess on the floor. She's stunned and confused, but the moment she sees Tav okay she couldn't care less. Why did you do that? "It might sound silly, but I was scared that you would be alone through whatever was about to happen. I don't regret it, if you're wondering"

Wyll -

"Gods- NO!" He shouts, a hand reaching out for them as they hit the ground. He's over them in a flash, holding their head in his arms, trying desperately to wake them, find a pulse, wake up himself and have this all be some sick nightmare. But of course, no such thing happens. The Tav he knows and loves just ceased living before his eyes. There's blood soaking into his every apparel and he's crying his eye out. It crosses his mind. Mizora is powerful- even if she can't fix this, she will know someone or something that can. He'd give anything- his whole life, he'd gladly be a lemure if it gave Tav back. He almost calls for her- until Withers starts his speech. (During the 'your rejection of Bhaal has earned you a place among heroes' section of his dialogue, he'll turn to Wyll and add: 'No devil's, demons or feinds required, I assure you')

Karlach -

If she wasn't raging before, she is now. A tomb-rocking scream echoes around the chamber, eyes wide with horror, body shaking and burning all over, engine out of control but she couldn't care less. One of the others will tell her to calm down. "FUCK THAT! FUCK EVERYTHING! FUCK THE GODS ABOVE AND THE HELLS BELOW." She roars. It goes on, swearing, screaming, swinging- and then, finally- collapse. She drops to her knees and punches the hard ground next to Tavs body, sobbing and exhausted. Withers walks in the the most gut-wrenching agonised scream of why

Gale -

He's frozen as it happens. His hands crackle with weave but he can't move. He needs to do something- anything, but time moves without him. All he knows is he can't breathe, all he can smell is blood and he thinks he's going to be sick. He can hear invisible bones cracking, distant blood dripping and their last choke. The wizard stumbles forward, barely making it to their body before collapsing beside them, on his knees and positively glowing from the mark on his chest. The orb can sense his distress and buzzes within him, as though it can smell the death. He pulls and hand to his mouth, kissing it gently- unable to comprehend a kiss goodbye. "Oh- Gods. Oh my love" he sobs, brows furrowed in what looks like physical pain. "I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." He wheezes out, scarcely finding breath.

Astarion -

He doesn't let their head hit the ground. He's swift as he catches them, but frantic as he sets their head on his thighs as a pillow. He pulls open their eyelids only to find a blackened core beneath, animalistic and distinctly unfamiliar. "Wake up, damn you...not after all this! You don't get to go!" He yells sounding genuinely furious- like he was going to get violent. If any of the others approach he doesn't notice. "We still have a cult to cull, we have a brain to control- I need you!" He yells, voice raw and eyes wet, the anger melting into greif. He makes a sheild of himself over Durge when Withers walks in, dagger/shortsword in hand, teeth bared, despite his damp face.

(Withers greets Astarion: 'Cry no more Spawn of sanguine- the universe is finally in your favour')

(Only Halsin is romanced for obvious reasons, but closeness is still implied for Minsc and Jaheira)

Halsin -

He catches Durge on the way down, their head on his chest as he lays them down over himself. "My heart? Can you hear me? Please say something" He begs hands glowing with healing magic, eyes aglow as well. He tries for a little, but then his breathing changes entirely, a small hushed gasp sounds from him, his he starts shaking his head, eyes wide. "Oh- oh Gods- Silvannus, please- I cannot bear to lose- oh Gods" He gasps, breath becoming harsher- finally letting tears fall. "Oak Father- please, wherever they go- keep them safe" he prays, teeth gritted in agony.

Jaheira -

She looks away as Tavs life is sapped away, unable to watch another Bhaalspawn friend suffer. When all falls still and silent, she looks among the other companions, shocked and frozen. "They're at peace now. Take comfort in knowing they chose to keep you all safe." She says with a proud nod- but her eyes are wet and her nose scrunched a little with a sniff.

Minsc -

There's small squeaking in the berserkers ear, before he sighs, almost a sob and speaks with a tired voice. "Wise words, Boo. I only wish our friend could hear you" Before he turns away, unable to look at them on the floor. "I am proud to have called them our friend. We should make them proud in return"

Hope you enjoyed! To the lovely people who have made requests, I will get to them as soon as I can!! Thank you for the requests, and please feel free to send me more!