#☽ truth in fear

[nightmares--child]

My Muse as a teenager

[lady-ashfade]

A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

[katebishopsbow]

UNWANTED • CHARLES LECLERC

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

summary: your brother was ready to give you a serious lecture after you tried sneaking home from a late-night party. but when he saw your teary eyes and found out that a boy had made you feel unwanted, he felt like his heart was being ripped apart.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, self-deprecating thoughts

word count: 1.5k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

The voice of your brother echoed through the dimly lit corridor of your home, startling you as you tried to sneak in quietly from a rather hectic night out. The disapproving tone of Charles’ reprimand couldn’t be missed, but you couldn’t find the strength within you to deal with his brotherly lecture just yet – not when the urge to cry clawed at your chest from the embarrassment you had just gone through at the party.

“Whatever, I don’t even care,” you muttered quietly before turning around to leave, but a hand clasped around your wrist and stopped you before you could escape to the sanctuary of your room. “What’s with the attitude?” Charles asked with a displeased frown, ready to unleash his scolding about how irresponsible you were being and the audacity to lash out at him when you had your family worried for the whole night. 

His words came to a sudden halt when he finally had a proper look at your face, noticing your red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and his heart was filled with a dreadful fear that something terrible had happened. “What’s wrong, chéri?” The previous irritation in his voice completely disappeared as he asked you tenderly in concern, but you refused to meet his eyes because you knew you would only cry harder if you did. “Just leave me alone,” you whispered with your head hung low, and you were grateful that he didn’t try stopping you as you trudged up the stairs to your room.

After a long shower that involved more tears and sobs, you thought you were beginning to feel better about the situation, but when you crawled into bed and had nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company, you found yourself wanting to burst into tears again. That was when a soft knock could be heard on your door, and you answered with a muffled “Okay” when your brother asked if he could come in.

Charles peeked his head through the gap in the door, looking so much like a lost child it was almost endearing. “Hey… do you want to talk about it?” he said with a cautious glint in his eyes, not wanting you to feel forced or pressured to talk to him if you weren’t ready to. You thought about it for a second, and nodded yes when you decided that you much rather have his company than be alone with your anxious thoughts.

The look of utter dejection on your face was something Charles wished he never had to see ever again. “Do I have to beat someone up?” You vehemently shook your head, well aware that he wasn’t joking around and would do anything to protect you. “No… It was my fault, anyway,” you spoke with a sorrowful voice, silently blaming yourself when the events of the night drifted across your mind once more.

“Tell me what happened, chéri,” Charles asked with a worried frown, and so you suppressed the embarrassment you were feeling and recalled what had happened at the party to him. 

You told him about this guy who you’ve had the biggest crush on and how you two talked for the entire night at the party, and even flirted a bit with each other here and there. Things were seemingly going well until he leaned in and tried to kiss you. For some reason you panicked and pulled away, telling him that you weren’t ready yet and wanted to take things slower. He proceeded to call you a tease for leading him on for the entire night, and said that you were “such a waste of time” before walking off and leaving you there all alone.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you admitted the truth to your brother, but even through your blurry vision, you could see how furious Charles had looked as he struggled to comprehend your words. “That asshole called you what? Give me his address, I swear to God —“ The pure rage that simmered in his chest was almost blinding, and he was certain he could actually murder someone right now. How dare that guy say such horrendous things to you?

“No, Charles, he was right. I shouldn’t have led him on,” you sighed before burying your face in your hands, failing to see the absolute disbelief on your brother’s face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t have pulled away… I shouldn’t have flirted with him if I wasn’t gonna let him kiss me!” Your muffled voice as you blame yourself did nothing but fuelled the anger that burned within Charles, but it also shattered his heart to see you like this.

How could you ever blame yourself when it should have been the guy’s fault for not respecting your boundaries? Why would you invalidate your own feelings just because of something a stupid boy had said to you? How dare that guy break his little sister's heart and make you believe that you were a waste of time? 

Seeing you cry tears of frustration made him want to cry with you, and so he wrapped his arms tightly around you while you wept into his shoulders, wishing that he could take all the pain away and shield you from every bad thing in the world. His hand rested comfortingly behind your head, giving you gentle head pats like he always used to do when you two were kids, “You should never feel bad for having boundaries, chéri. If he doesn’t know how to respect that, then it's entirely his fault, never yours, okay?” 

“I just feel like an idiot. When I stood there all by myself after he had left, I felt so unwanted, so undesirable… like no guy would ever like me for being me,” you blurted out between quiet sniffles. Charles was shaking his head before you could finish your sentence, refusing to let you continue with your self-deprecating words. He never ever wanted to hear you talk about yourself like that.

In his eyes, you were the most perfect little angel ever. As your older brother, he understood who you truly were, witnessed the realest side of you. He knew you had the most beautiful heart – always putting others above yourself – and every day you continued to amaze him with how much of a selfless, compassionate, and loving person you were. You meant the entire world to him, and it pained him more than anything to see you speak of yourself in such low regard.

“Don’t say that, please,” he sounded almost pleading, and the raw hurt and vulnerability that was hidden behind his wavering words made you want to cry even harder. “You’re the sweetest, kindest, most amazing person in the world. They don’t ever deserve you if they can’t see that.” 

Your brother leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead, fighting back the misty tears that clouded his own eyes as he whispered earnestly, “You are so loved, chéri, and you are so much more than the opinions of others.” Closing your eyes, you allowed the weight of his words to wash over you like soft, gentle ocean waves.

For the longest time, you had always believed that you needed to be a certain way to be loved, and how people perceived you slowly became the entirety of your self-worth. You craved the feeling of being wanted and the validation that came with being chosen, so you allowed people to walk all over you because you were terrified of being left behind.

And while you were so busy searching for the love that you longed for, you had forgotten to give yourself the same love you so easily give to others and overlooked the love that had always been there for you. Charles, your family, your friends – you were so entirely loved that your thought of feeling you were ever unwanted pained them, that seeing you get hurt broke their hearts into pieces.

If you had stopped for a second to look around you, you would realize that you had been searching at the wrong places all this time. You never had to be perfect to be loved and accepted – for it was your imperfections that made you human, that made you, you.

“Try getting some sleep, mon ange,” Charles breathed out a hushed whisper, his voice smooth as velvet. As you rested in the loving embrace of your brother – your pillar of strength and the one who would always have your back, your eyelids slowly fluttered close as your mind drifted toward a tranquil calmness. 

“But seriously, what is the guy’s address? I just want to have a little chat.”

[shiningmystic]

Messages from your Spirit Guides PAC 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ───

Welcome friends, to your sprit guide reading whoever your guides may be they always respond to you.

I only call upon the spirits that look fondly upon you and see the being beneath all the judgement and ego, there is just essence. Unconditional love is what I always dip down to even if there are days that I cannot do it for myself, I know it is always present and that gives me much comfort on my worst days. Mental health awareness is real and always check in with yourself especially being chronically honed in on the bad shit that happens around you or is happening. Cultivating slowness is an everyday job for all of us but when we do it we do become thankful. I'm a bit rusty so forgive me if some of my words may be repetitive. Drop a follow to know when I post another general reading!

Pick your Photo:

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Pile I: colors of light 🧚🏾‍♀️

The lovers (rx), 6 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, the heirophant (rx), 9 of wands (rx)

Back of the deck: ace of cups (rx), knight of swords, 7 of cups

Pile one to begin, your guides sent me images of the sun peering through glass and reflecting rainbow colors which really makes me feel as though you are a deep person but from day to day you may feel dull. Your guides are reminding you, sending you messages of your inner light and how it shines out even if you hide it and reflects back in people places or things. There is a lot about beauty here and how to stay genuine to yourself; your beauty is unique and comparing your beauty to someone else’s is a crime against them and you. If you genuinely don’t think you’re beautiful on outside, then there are always ways to work with what we have when we are ready to tackle it (honestly sometime i need to cry it out). Now on with the card pull:

Wow, I feel a lot going on with so many messages, I’ll try and keep it concise.

First message: you will always be enough is a huge message. It doesn’t matter even if they left you, even if someone who you loved told you that you were too much or even feeling that way towards yourself and your guides do not agree. The more we believe that the more we hurt ourselves and continue to prove it right. Even if you are ‘too much’ there are people out there that would disagree. - huge lesson I’m learning is that two truths can exist at the same space even if they oppose the other. For example, when I talk about my trauma, I feel vulnerable and fearful yet after the fact I feel both emotions, strong and weak. Both fear and strength. You are not to much and even if they couldn’t handle you, your a whole lot of love and light especially from the energy from the image.

Message two: some of you are away from family or your country, things are changing and it’s overwhelming in many ways. There is a lot of choices and a lot of overwhelming feelings towards making them. Your guides are advising you to trust in yourself and ignore the voices around that do not harbor understanding. Trust in your own judgment and believe in what you’re doing because it is your life and your actions that shape it; you will be the one living with it so always believe in yourself, you know what’s best for you and even when we make that mistake, we need a gentle reminder that mistakes are apart of success. if you don't give yourself the space to learn then you will continue to never know what is for you.

Message three: it’s always you pile one that always gets the message to be kinder to yourself; life isn’t a strict fast paced all or nothing (obviously life is very hard now for many.) but your guides are reminding you life will have its downs and if you can’t take time for those downs then they will be crashes. I’m feeling loved ones coming through this pile, so just know your guides understand your struggle and want to remind you as well that they are always with you.

Lots of burn out energy, you are so strong, please believe me when I say you are enough.

To the lovely humans who broke up with someone or let go of a person who you love but was toxic, you did the right thing for yourself, i send you love my love.

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Pile II: Stepping stones ☄️

8 of cups, the hierophant, 7 of cups (rx), ace of pentacles, temperance, the moon

Back of the deck: queen of wands and 2 of cups (rx)

Right now you’re stepping up to the unknown, it’s natural to be fearful of risk. Pile 2 I sense that good things will come to you when you make the choice, even with hesitation don’t doubt the choices you have already made. all we can do is what we know now. the effort you put into your work will pour back into you. I can sense a lot of hesitation but still moving forward and that takes courage! Your guides are proud of you stepping up to the plate.

I can see some people going back to school and graduating scared that they will never find stability. Some of you are taking chances and starting businesses especially creative ones (relatable content). Your guides are supporting you on your financial endeavors and know the future feels scary for many.

It’s very unstable in many places right now so I understand the confusion and the fear but the pendulum always swings back and things always go back into balance again even by force (which we shouldn’t let it to come to an extreme but whatever.) You are strong people but this creativity needs to be grounded in reality when it comes to money; be realistic and continue with your motivated attitude towards your endeavors. honestly some of you are and are focusing to hard on the little details, relax and just do what's in front of you.

Believe in yourself pile 2. You have grown to doubt yourself and abilities at times because of push back and it’s actually super healthy for intelligent people to question themselves but to much self doubt only leaves us frozen. Now is the time to go ahead and shine!

The energy for you is ripe with opportunities your guides are saying go ahead, take the calculated risk, do the thing you want to but just know take time to do it with love and integrity you will succeed.

The moon and the 7 of cups reverse tell me about your doubt, anxiety and not knowing what may happen is the worst but life is all about the mystery and discovering your path. dear wanderer, not all souls who walk a lonely path are lost, maybe you'll run into another.

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Pile III: Glowing mushrooms 🍄

Page of cups, Death, The Emperor, King of pentacles, strength (rx), Ace of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, Page of Swords

Your path to transformation takes determination and strength, but understand the power is within you and how you have gotten far.

Mushrooms are pretty crazy! They grow in so many places and are resilient; I’m not saying you’re a mushroom (even though honestly, it’s a vibe) but your guides are bringing it up. Every photo is connected to the pile it is above and yours is about your strength and resilience (pile 2 as well but it's much more emphasized here).

I mean so many people are keeping it together right now and you’re no different but I feel an extra sprinkle of shit being thrown your way recently or this could be a theme. Keep doing what you’re doing is a message for many but to keep taking the steps to this new life and I mean new life. I don’t mean moving away and starting over (unless that resonates) but you are changing it up, starting new habits and new routines, taking steps constantly at a different pace but never stopping, (it’s a lot that you have been juggling I’m surprised I don’t see the 2 of pentacles) Your guides are like Dang they got this.

Lots are taking big steps in life atm and your frozen on a choice (pile 2 also has some of that energy) there is a message of that you’re only human and sometimes it’s alright to be vulnerable and look back at the good times but the here and now is calling, stay focused and channel your emperor energy guys.

Please don’t neglect your mental health, many of you may be overworking even when you feel like you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough *whacks head* stop! You are working enough it’s just that things in reality are kinda messed up and that’s why there so many of us like this. the world is dysfunctional so of course we will be too. But of course that doesn’t solve the issue of having to keep on when your anxious and depressed, but a minute of your day is all you need to cry, to get a hug from someone, I always recommend self care. You can be strong and vulnerable at the same time and I’m willingly absorbing the information from my therapist on how two truths can exist at the same time even if they oppose the other. Be upset and when you can get up and finish that assignment, project, shipment, sale, you seriously got this but I know this is more about the stress and anxiety all this work carries with it.

Stable energy is present in the spread which makes me feel like your guides are just cheering you on knowing how hard it has been and that you are reaching positive new things especially with Death and this transformation that been going on. Be wary of spending for right now (as i assume you are tbh) but know that finances energetically will grow , just stay on task and carry yourself with pride because you are amazing!

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So those were the messages I picked up on, I hope they comfort and support you in some way, or even give you advice. Stay humble and lovely my friends.

Tarot decks used: Rider-Waite tarot deck

- ShiningMysticTarot ☀️

[whoahoney]

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

[moonselune]

I have had a thought.

I was playing bg3, making a sorcerer tav and I saw one of the options was draconic bloodline and it gives your scales on your face.

I thought it was really cool and I was wondering if maybe you could write something about how companions (mainly astarion and halsin) would react to tav having scales. Like imagine when they first met tav covered their face and then boom! Handsome man with dragon scales.

What do you think about it? TOODLES

Draconic sorceror is literally one of my favourite classes and I love to think what the companions would think of the scales (they would all love them)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

When you first met Astarion, you were prepared for the usual reactions: curious stares, uneasy glances, or the rare, but always tiresome, gasp of surprise. After all, dragon scales covering your face were not something most people encountered in their daily lives. The faint, iridescent sheen that danced across your scales in the light often drew attention, and not always the good kind.

But Astarion’s reaction was different. When his eyes first landed on you, there was no trace of fear or discomfort—only fascination. His gaze lingered on your face, his lips curving into a sly smile as he approached you with that effortless grace of his.

“My, my,” he had murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. “Aren’t you a sight to behold? I’ve seen many things in my time, but nothing quite like you.”

You remember the way he had reached out, as if asking for permission to touch, his fingers hovering just above your skin. When you had nodded, slightly surprised but intrigued, he had traced the contours of your scales with a delicate touch, as though they were made of the finest glass.

“Beautiful,” Astarion had whispered, almost to himself. His eyes had been filled with something akin to awe, and you had felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with your draconic blood. “Absolutely captivating.”

As your relationship deepened -and you became able to trust his honeyed words once more, you found that Astarion’s fascination with your scales only grew. He loved to explore them with his hands, his lips, and his words. On quiet nights, after the day’s battles and struggles were behind you, he would often lie beside you, his eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that made your heart race.

One such evening, you were lying together in your tent, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The camp was quiet, the others having settled in for the night, leaving you and Astarion in the comforting cocoon of each other’s company.

Astarion’s head rested on your chest, his fingers lazily tracing the lines of your scales. His touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were committing every inch of you to memory. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“Have I told you how much I adore these?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper as his fingers continued their journey across your face.

“Once or twice,” you replied with a smile, your own voice tinged with amusement. But the truth was, hearing him say it never got old. There was something deeply comforting in the way Astarion admired this part of you that others had often feared or found unsettling.

Astarion chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw where the scales began. His lips were soft, cool against the warmth of your skin, and he took his time, moving slowly along the line of your scales, kissing each one with care.

You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, a deep sense of peace settling in your chest. His kisses traveled up your cheek, his breath warm against your skin as he continued his slow exploration.

“You are truly magnificent,” he murmured against your temple, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Every time I look at you, I find something new to fall in love with.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently run your fingers through his silver hair, the strands slipping like silk between your fingers.

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, your voice full of emotion. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Astarion pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes shining with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something almost possessive.

“You won’t have to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m not going anywhere, my dearest dragon.”

He leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, his mouth warm and insistent against yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that echoed the words he had just spoken. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the tent.

“Now, let’s see if I can find any more scales to admire,” Astarion teased, his playful grin returning as his fingers resumed their exploration, trailing down your neck and across your shoulders. You laughed softly, the sound filled with both amusement and contentment.

“Take your time,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

When you first met Halsin, you could feel his gaze on you the moment you walked into the camp. As a draconic sorcerer, you were no stranger to stares—people often found your dragon scales captivating or intimidating. The scales that adorned your face were a visible mark of your draconic heritage, shimmering with an iridescent hue that caught the light in ways that made them almost seem alive. But Halsin’s gaze wasn’t one of fear or unease. No, his eyes were filled with something deeper, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

Halsin was a man of nature, someone who revered the natural world in all its forms. When he looked at you, it was as though he was seeing a rare and beautiful creature, something that had been crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. His brown eyes, warm and earthy, followed you with a mixture of admiration and a hint of something more—a longing that he tried to suppress, not wanting to come on too strong.

It wasn’t long before the two of you grew closer, your connection deepening with each passing day. Halsin’s reverence for nature extended to his reverence for you, and as your relationship became more established, he no longer held back his admiration for your unique features.

One evening, you were sitting together by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a soft glow across the camp. Halsin sat beside you, his large frame a comforting presence. He reached out, his hand hovering near your face, and you could see the hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still unsure whether you were comfortable with such an intimate gesture.

“May I?” he asked, his voice low and full of respect.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Of course, Halsin.”

His hand, large and calloused from years of working with the earth, gently cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed against the scales that covered your cheek, and a shiver ran down your spine at the tenderness of his touch. Halsin’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression one of pure adoration.

“Your scales,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe, “are truly magnificent. I’ve seen many wonders in nature, but none as captivating as you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart swelling with affection for the druid who had come to mean so much to you. Halsin’s hand moved slowly, his fingers tracing the contours of your scales as though he were mapping every detail, committing it to memory. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he believed you to be the finest creature nature had ever produced.

“Do you know,” Halsin continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that every time I look at you, I am reminded of the power and beauty of the natural world? Your scales are a testament to that—a blend of strength and grace, as all things in nature should be.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks, though you knew it would be barely noticeable against your scales. Halsin’s words had a way of cutting through any insecurities you might have had, filling you with a sense of pride in who you were and what you represented.

“I’ve always thought of my scales as a reminder of where I come from,” you admitted, your voice soft as you gazed into Halsin’s eyes. “But you make me feel like they’re something more, something to be proud of.”

Halsin smiled then, a warm and gentle expression that made your heart skip a beat. “They are a gift, as are you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek once more. “A gift from the dragons to the world, and I am honored to be in your presence.”

He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your scales in a series of soft, reverent kisses. Each one sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the deep connection you shared with this man who saw you not just as a sorcerer, but as something truly extraordinary.

As he continued to kiss along the line of your scales, you closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you. Halsin’s touch was grounding, his presence a balm to your soul. He treated you with a respect that went beyond mere affection—it was as though he truly believed you to be the embodiment of nature’s finest work.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his feelings reflected in them.

“You are a wonder,” he said softly, his hand still resting on your cheek. “And I will never tire of telling you so.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart full to bursting with the love and admiration you felt for this man who had so completely captivated you in return. “And I will never tire of hearing it,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

Halsin’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the night.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice full of a quiet plea. “Always.”

“Always,” you echoed, your voice full of promise. And as you sat there together, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that there was nowhere else you would rather be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Aww some wholesome stuff with Astarion and Halsin, love it. Hope you guys enjoyed it too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[serpentandlily]

Scared to Be Happier - Azriel x Reader

Scared to be Happier - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel finds his mate in the Court of Nightmares and she is whisked away to Velaris to be saved. But when someone spends so long being beaten down and angry, sometimes broken is all they'll ever be.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (minors dni), Drug and Alcohol Usage

a/n: Heavily inspired by the song Happier by Yungblud/Oli Sykes. This one is for all my girlies who self-sabotage and break things because that is all they've ever known, who are scared to be happy because of the fear of the fall when it all gets taken away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A pounding on your door pulled you from your thoughts. You let out a sigh as your apartment came back into focus, mirthroot smoke swirling in the air along with the stench of whiskey. You stood from the couch, stretching out your limbs before moving to the door.

You had to kick a few empty wine bottles out of your path, the evidence of last night’s adventures. 

When you pulled open the door, you weren’t surprised to see the shadowsinger standing there. His handsome face was unreadable, his eyes checking over you from head to toe. You smiled, lazily, his face shifting in and out of focus. 

“Azriel,” you greeted. His eyes narrowed on your face. 

You knew what you must look like to him. Kohl smeared under your eyes, hair in disarray, standing there in only your underwear and a large shirt whose owner you were unsure of. 

You stepped back, letting him walk inside and shut the door behind him. 

“You’re high again.”

His voice was deep, husky, as he peered around the mess in your apartment. You shrugged, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. It was the truth. You spent most of your days in a haze. One you sought after through the use of drugs and alcohol. Mirthroot helped numb your mind. The alcohol helped numb your feelings.

“Don’t act like you care,” you said, flatly. “Not now.” 

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh, turning to face you. “I wish you’d stop saying things like that.”

“The truth?”

He stalked towards you, until he was so close you had to tilt your head up to stare at him. His hand raised, his knuckles brushing against your rosy cheeks. “It’s not the truth. And you know it.” 

Your own hand climbed up his chest until it rested right over his heart, the heart that beat in rhythm with yours. 

“I know what you’re here for,” you purred, ignoring his remark. 

This was the game. Azriel would come here, pretend to care, if only long enough for the two of you to fall into bed together. Then you’d wake up and he’d be gone. And you wouldn’t see him again until he felt guilty enough to check-in on you again. After all, he was the reason you were here. 

Azriel rested his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your check. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“You’re not sorry,” you whispered, staring into his hypnotizing hazel eyes. “You enjoy this. You enjoy being around someone as miserable as you. I know you, Azriel. Better than that family of yours does.” 

“You know nothing,” he growled.

But then he surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. Like he always did when the conversation turned more personal. But you met him halfway, also not wanting to talk anymore. Not when the mirthroot kept your head so light. Not when it felt so good to have Azriel’s lips against yours. 

He groaned, pushing you further against the counter, his hips digging into yours. His hand snaked into your hair, pulling your head back so he could deepen the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You needed this as much as he did.

The bond in your chest sang at his touch. Your body already reacting to him. 

He lifted you onto the counter, parting your thighs with his leg so he could stand between them. His hard cock pressed against your barely covered center, causing both of you to moan. He trailed kisses down your jaw, to your throat, tracing his canines over the fragile skin. 

Azriel wasted no time, yanking your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor, revealing your bare breasts to him. He groaned at the sight, running his hands down your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he growled, before pushing you to lean back so he could trace kisses down your chest, taking one of your peaked nipples into his mouth. You groaned, twisting your hand in his dark hair. 

His hand slid up your thigh until his fingers hooked around the seam of your underwear and swiftly pulled it off of you, leaving you entirely naked in front of him. He moaned, dropping to his knees, staring at your glistening core. 

“Fuck, I need to taste you,” he growled before leaning forward and taking a single lick up the center of your folds. Your head fell back against the cabinets at the sensation. 

“Please,” you begged. 

That was all he needed to hear, diving his tongue into you. You writhed on the counter as he flicked his tongue against your clit, his finger circling around your entrance. Your hips bucked as you moaned, needing more. 

Azriel knew your body, knew how to force you close to the edge so quickly with just his tongue. He knew the right time to finally push a finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out before adding a second one. You mewled, your first orgasm coming quickly. 

Azriel cursed as he felt you fall over the edge, as you pulsed around his fingers. He stood, still pushing his fingers in and out of you as his other hand worked to untie his leathers. You helped him, pushing his shirt off and he yanked his pants down. 

You stroked his dick up and down, licking your lips.

Azriel ripped your hand away with a growl. “I need to be in you. Now.” 

Before you could blink, he thrusted his cock into you, hard and fast. You both groaned as he seated himself inside of you, wrapping his large arms around your waist and pulling you tight against his bare chest. You were both panting, the bond that had still not been accepted glowed at your contact. 

Azriel gave you a few seconds to adjust before pulling all the way out and thrusting back into you just as hard. He growled, his head falling into the crevice of your neck as he set a punishing pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, cursing. 

He pulled away, still thrusting in and out of you, to grab your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, his pace becoming faster, harder. “Your body was made for me. For me only.”

You fluttered around him in response to his possessive words. Words you knew meant nothing once this was all over. You groaned his name, relishing in the pain and pleasure of his hard thrusts. 

“Say it,” he growled, his grip on your chin tightening. “Say your mine.” 

“Gods, Azriel,” you moaned. “I’m yours.”

“Again,” he grunted, his thrusts not letting up. 

“Yours,” you cried out. “I’m yours.” 

His pupils were dilated, turning his hazel eyes black as he fucked you with a frenzy only a mate could. His free hand dipped between your legs, rubbing your clit. You cried out, feeling your second orgasm of the night building. 

“That’s it,” Azriel grunted. “You take me so well, pretty girl. So fucking good. Mine. You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed. The mirthroot made your head spin, the feeling of Azriel fucking you almost too much. You cried out again as your orgasm suddenly crashed through you like a wave. 

Azriel cursed, fucking you through your orgasm, until he couldn’t hold his rhythm anymore. His thrusts became sloppy, erratic, as he chased after his own high. You reached a hand out, stroking down the soft membrane of his beautiful wing, pushing him over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he growled loudly, burying himself inside of you as he exploded.

You could feel his hot seed inside of you. He pulled out a bit and pushed back in, making sure none of it was wasted. Your body was limp as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you, holding you tight against his chest.

He carried you into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. Your head was spinning now. You blinked, feeling the bond in your chest tighten at the sight of him. 

“Don’t even think of falling asleep,” he commanded with a growl, climbing over you. He caged your head with his arms, his mouth attaching itself to your neck again, kissing and sucking. “I’m not done with you.” 

Hours later, you watched him disappear in a flurry of shadows, only staying long enough to help clean you up after he made a mess of your body. This was how it was. He would come here, take what he needed from you and disappear. It used to hurt you more, used to tear your heart apart. Now…now you were numb to it. 

You were numb to most things, angry at the rest. 

But mostly, you were scared. And you knew he was too. Scared to push this any farther. Scared to dive into a territory you weren’t sure you were ready for. You didn’t belong here. You never would. You might’ve been dragged out of the Court of Nightmares but you had never truly left. 

Because that place had turned you into little more than ash. It had taken everything you were and crushed it, crushed it so thoroughly that you would never be able to glue back the pieces. And the High Lord and his dogs had been naive in thinking that they had rescued you, saved you.

They had not saved you.

They had not saved you because there was nothing left of you to be saved.  

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

One Year Ago

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The corset you were wearing under your dress was constricting, your lungs begging for a chance to breathe. The dress that was over it was hardly much better. But the High Lord and Lady were making an appearance today and so your father had the handmaidens get you ready, making you look proper enough to be in the Throne Room alongside him.

There was a part of you that liked when the High Lord and Lady came, only because you were allowed out of your chambers for once. The chambers your father basically had you shackled in. You were his youngest daughter, finally the age to be married off, and he was worried you’d go and pull a Morrigan if you were given even a sliver of freedom.

The other part of you hated the High Lord and Lady. Hated seeing their smug faces, their pretentious attitudes. Even her stupid stuck-up sisters and the two Illyrians walked around looking down their noses at everyone who lived in Hewn City. As if you were all bottom of the barrel, the fifth under their shoes. 

But your only crime in life was being born in this awful mountain. 

That was enough for them, it seemed. They had no interest in helping any of the fae stuck down here that wanted out, that weren’t the awful people you were thought to be. It didn’t matter to them. 

All that mattered was their perfect little city away from all the rats below. And you hated them for it. Hated all of them. 

In fact, hate was all you had ever known. Bruise after bruise. Strike after strike. Torn out and stomped on after cleaning your own blood from the floor when your father was done doling out his punishments for whatever he decided you’d done wrong that day, time and time again.

There was a time you prayed to the stars for help. 

But that time was over. 

“Rise,” the High Lord ordered after making all of you stay on your knees for what felt like eternity.

You were quick to stand, brushing your dress down as you did. Your father was hovering right next to you, as if he were ready to snatch you away the second he deemed it fit. 

Your eyes trailed over your two rulers before briefly passing over the Morrigan, Lady Death and The General, finally landing on the Shadowsinger.

He was stoic, hauntingly beautiful. But you already knew that. He was the one all the Ladies liked to pant over while their husbands were out of earshot. 

As if he could feel your stare, his gaze shot to you and you went back to staring at the floor. Your father grabbed you by the upper arm, leading you towards the front of the room where the other Lords were gathering. 

You spared a glance at the shadowsinger again, noticing he had moved now to the High Lord’s side and appeared to be whispering something in his ear. 

You went back to acting like a pretty little doll perched next to your father. After all, beauty was the only currency females had in Hewn City. That was all your mother had taught you before she died. 

Keep yourself pretty and then maybe you’d be rewarded with a husband who liked keeping you that way and would not leave bruises on your body. 

Your beauty never saved you from your father’s hand though. 

“Lord Thanatos,” the High Lord called out, causing the band to pause their playing and the others to go quiet. Your stomach twisted at the sound of your father’s name. “Please approach the Throne with your daughter.”

Your brows pinched in confusion as your father yanked you forward. It wasn’t the first time Rhysand had asked to speak to your father but why had he requested you to approach as well? 

“My Lord,” your father said with a bow of his head. “Lady.”

He shot you a glare when you stood next to him frozen. You snapped out of your trance and gave a curtsy, keeping your eyes on the ground like an obedient and submissive female should. 

“What is your name, little bird?”

“Her name is—”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the High Lord snapped. “I was talking to your daughter.”

Your eyes flickered up, widening as the High Lord’s piercing violet ones landed on you. “M-my name is y/n, my Lord.”

You swallowed as he looked between you and your father. What could he possibly want with you? 

“Okay, y/n. Tell me, do you enjoy living here?”

You glanced at your father to see his eyes narrowed at you. You nodded in answer, holding your hands behind your back to hide your shaking. 

“My Lord, what is the meaning of this—”

“It is impolite to interrupt a conversation,” the High Lady sneered, holding a hand up in your father’s direction. 

A muscle in his jaw clenched but he stayed quiet. 

“And do you possess any power?”

You glanced at your father again, not sure how to answer. He had wanted to keep you a secret from the High Lord, worried he’d take you away once he found out what you could do, how you could benefit him. Instead, Keir and your father wanted to use you to secure a strong alliance with another court. 

“A mere fraction,” your father cut in. “The girl can’t even winnow.”

You bit your lip, looking back at the floor. Your cheeks turned red at your father’s lie.

“Interrupt me one more time, Lord Thanatos, and I’ll have you escorted to a prison cell,” the High Lord growled before looking back at you. “What power do you possess, y/n? Don’t bother lying to me, little bird. I will know.”

You looked at your father again, his lips were pressed in a thin line, displeased. You looked back into the intimidating gaze of the High Lord. 

“I possess the Clear Touch, my Lord,” you answered.

The power that ran in your family line. The ability to touch a person and see their memories if you were able to get past their mental barrier. The High Lord grinned. 

“Good, you will pack your things and return with us to Velaris,” the High Lord declared. “I have use of you.”

Your jaw nearly dropped open and you turned to look at your father. His face was bright red with anger. 

“What?!” He spat out. “You cannot just kidnap her. She is under my rule until marriage. And she already has a number of suitors, some of whom are supposed to arrive this weekend for negotiations. You can’t take her.”

Your jaw did drop open this time. You had no idea about any suitors. You quickly fixed your face back into an unreadable one when the High Lord’s gaze stayed on you. 

“As far as I know, your daughter is of age now. Which means she can make her own choice,” the High Lord purred. “Which will it be y/n? Come work for me or stay here to be sold off by your father?”

The arrogance in his voice irked you. It’s like he was assuming no one would ever turn down the chance to work with him, to go to Velaris. As if he were offering you a reward. But you hated him as much as you hated your father. And you hated this court equally. 

Marriage to a foreign male might be your only chance to escape from here.

You could feel your father’s heavy gaze on the side of your face. “I would like to stay with my father, my Lord.”

Shock flashed through the High Lord’s eyes for a second and your father grinned. 

“Well, she’s made her choice, High Lord,” your father gloated. He wrapped his hand around your arm, right over the bruise hiding under your sleeve. You flinched slightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse—”

Suddenly, your father was yanked from you—the shadowsinger now between you and him.

“Get your fucking hands off my mate,” the shadowsinger growled lowly, his face dark and devastatingly lethal. 

Mate.

Mate.

That word clanged through you like metal against steel. The shadowsinger was staring down at your father, not even looking in your direction. Not even as a sea of gasps rang out in the crowd. 

Mate.

He had just claimed you in front of the entirety of Hewn City. There would be no marriage now. No escaping this court. You knew what it meant to be someone’s mate as a female. He now had rights to you. You were his. 

The blood left your face, your jaw clenching in dread.

Mate.

That one word had been enough. Enough for the High Lord to have you escorted to your home, made to pack up all your things to join them on their journey back to Velaris. You did so without a single word. What could you do? Even your own father wouldn’t look at you anymore. Not with the shadowsinger breathing down his neck. 

And when Azriel saw the chains in your room, the ones your father locked you up with at night to make sure you could never leave, he had grabbed hold of your father and disappeared in a flurry of shadows. 

Your heart was pounding as you chucked your clothes into a trunk. Once you were all packed, two females appeared out of nowhere. The shadow wraiths. They took hold of your trunk and disappeared. Your father’s handmaidens led you out to the sitting area where you waited for your mate to come retrieve you as if you were little more than some item he had purchased. 

Azriel returned, his knuckles bloody and bruised. You weren’t naive. You knew it was your father’s blood on his hands. You should’ve felt satisfied at seeing it, but you weren’t. This wasn’t a victory for you. You were merely just a trade between the two males. From your father’s ownership to your mate’s. 

“Come on,” Azriel said, reaching out his hand to you. “Let’s go.” 

You said nothing, taking his hand as you were meant to. Shadows engulfed the two of you until you were being pulled out of the darkness and into a new place. You quickly dropped Azriel’s hand, looking around. It was a bedroom, simple but still opulent. You glanced out the window to see you were high in the sky, overlooking a city.    

“We’re at the House of Wind.” Azriel’s voice came from behind you. You whirled around to stare at him. “This is where you’ll be staying for now.” 

He took a step towards you and you couldn’t fight the urge to take a step back to maintain the distance between you. He held up his hands. “I’m not…I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know much about the shadowsinger, only how he tortured people for information and came from Illyria. You glanced at his wings.

You did know about that. How brutal Illyrian males were supposed to be. How they clipped their females and used them as nothing more than breeding stock. 

“You’re Illyrian,” you finally said. 

He nodded. “Yes.” 

“I know how Illyrians treat their females.”

A brief flash of anger sparked behind his hazel eyes and you berated yourself in your head. Fuck. You were already forgetting all the things your mother had taught you. Things every female in Hewn City were taught from birth. Never anger a male, keep your opinions to yourself, always say yes when they demand something of you. 

“I am nothing like them,” Azriel ground out between his teeth, his fist clenched. 

You swallowed, taking another step back. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, already bracing yourself to be hit.

But Azriel didn’t advance forward to your surprise. 

“I will leave you alone now. Dinner will be served at six if you wish to join.”

And then he was gone, melting back into his shadows.

You let out the breath you were holding, looking around the room once more. Your new cage. Slightly better than your last one, but a cage nonetheless. You sighed and began to unpack your things. Might as well accept your fate. You were the shadowsinger’s mate. There was no escaping this now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You showed up at dinner, scared to anger Azriel even more than you had already. But Azriel had paid you little attention since you had been out here with all of them. Instead, he sat at the opposite side of the table, next to one of the High Lady’s sisters. They seemed to be engaging in pleasant enough conversation by the looks of it. 

Good. You were happy his attention was elsewhere. Though your chest ached as you watched him exchange soft smiles with the other female, completely different than how he had been with you. 

It’s just the bond, you reminded yourself. The bond you hadn’t even felt snap for you. 

“So, y/n, how old are you exactly?” 

“Eighteen,” you answered the Morrigan, who sat across from you. 

At this, Azriel’s head whipped towards you, his brows pinched. Even the female next to him looked at you, her brown eyes filled with some indiscernible emotion. 

As soon as they were all in Velaris, it was like a completely different group of people. The menacing stares, the cold voices, the disdain. All of it was gone and replaced with something warmer. Though they still watched you with suspicious eyes. 

It only annoyed you further. Hewn City was something they could wipe from their hands and escape from, with no regard for those stuck there. 

“Hey, Feyre, you’re not the baby anymore!” The General laughed. 

“You must be relieved to finally be away from that place,” Feyre chirped.

Your grip on your fork tightened. If they all recognized how horrible that place was, then why did they insist on doing nothing to fix it? You weren’t the only one who suffered there. 

You heard your mother’s voice in your head now, Always be agreeable. Say what they want you to. Don’t put up a fight or they’ll only hit you harder. Be gracious. Look happy. 

You glanced at Azriel to see he was still watching you.

“Yes,” you agreed, like you were supposed to. 

Yes. It was the only word you had said since being here at this table. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

After dinner was over, they had Azriel escort you back to your room. You followed behind him, staring at his large beautiful wings. You supposed things could be worse. You could be mated to some ugly, rotten looking male. At least your new prisoner guard was handsome. 

You stepped inside of your room, expecting Azriel to follow. Is this when he’d force you to have sex with him? You mentally went through all the steps your mother had told you about sex. About how much it would hurt, how it was just something you would need to suffer through in order to keep a male happy. 

To your surprise, Azriel did not enter the room. But he didn’t leave either, lingering in the doorframe. 

“You know, you don’t have to keep saying yes to everything,” he said. “You’re not in Hewn City anymore. You’re allowed to say no. Allowed to voice your own opinions.”

“Okay,” you replied, stoically. Was this some sort of test?

He let out a sigh. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” 

You only blinked in response. He ran a hand through his hair, his beautiful face unreadable. “I’m sorry for claiming you in front of the court like that. But it was the only way your father would let us take you out of there. You don’t have to be scared anymore. No one here is going to hurt you.” 

“I didn’t want to leave,” you said back. “I told the High Lord I wished to stay with my father.”

Azriel seemed confused by your remark. “Your father isn’t here, y/n. You don’t have to continue to lie. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I am not lying,” you replied. 

“You…you wish to stay in Hewn City? You wish to stay with your father?” 

You shook your head. Because no, that wasn’t what you wanted. But you knew you didn’t want this either. You didn’t want to be in the Night Court at all. You wanted to be whisked away somewhere else. No one cared for you here. That wasn’t how the Night Court worked. 

“So you did want to come here?”

“No,” you whispered. “I do not wish to be here either.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw clenched. “So what do you want?”

Your brows pinched together. “I-I don’t know.”

You’d never been allowed to want for anything. You had no clue what was even out in the world beyond this court. You’d lived in Hewn City all your life. Had never been educated on much of anything. Not beyond typical things the females were allowed to learn. 

Azriel’s fists tightened and then he disappeared. 

You didn’t see him again until two days later. He showed up knocking on your door, telling you to pack your things. You did as he said without argument. Perhaps he was finally taking you home now to do whatever it is mates did with each other. 

But to your surprise, Azriel brought you to an apartment that was nearly empty besides the necessities. He placed your trunk in the bedroom before turning to look at you, his face blank. 

“You will live here now. I will not bother you, nor will anyone else from the court. If you wish to speak to any of us, you can reach out whenever,” he said, his voice ice cold. “I set up an account under your name that you can use to buy whatever you need.”

He was just…dumping you here? 

“I’m meant to live here?” You questioned. “Alone?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” The disdain in his voice had you folding into yourself. “So yes. You will live here. Since I’m the reason you’re in this situation, I will cover the cost.”

All of the gentleness and patience he had shown that other female was gone, nowhere to be found. 

“Okay,” you said, flatly. 

He peered at you once more, searching. You kept your face neutral, not wanting to show the fear you now felt. Alone in a city. You didn’t know a single person who lived here. What would you do? What could you do?

“You know where to find me if you wish,” Azriel said and then disappeared into his shadows, leaving you standing alone in an empty apartment. 

You spent the next month in a haze. Only leaving the apartment for food. Otherwise you just sat and watched people from your window. 

Sometimes you’d see Azriel walking through the streets with the High Lady’s sister, exchanging soft glances, laughing, brushing up against each other. 

You seethed at the sight. He had claimed you, dragged you to this city away from everything and everyone you’d ever known, and dumped you here alone just to parade around with another female.

Why had he taken you if he didn’t want you? 

Why had he said anything? 

It wasn’t like you could return to Hewn City. Your father would have trouble finding you suitors now that everyone knew you were the shadowsinger’s mate. Without having a use for you, you were sure your father would only treat you worse. 

You were truly alone. You’d always been, of course. But though you held no love for your father, at least he had you taken care of. 

Now you were on your own. 

Abandoned by your own mate. 

Maybe you should feel relieved that he didn’t want you. Seemed more invested in the High Lady’s sister. But it didn’t feel good either way. 

Were you not good enough for him? Were you not worth the effort of courting? You’d always known your life would never be filled with soft, sweet romance. Not if you were meant to be sold off. 

But to find out you had a mate, a mate clearly capable of being gentle and kind with females…just not you. 

You were Court of Nightmare scum. A female meant to be used and broken and ruined at the hands of males. Not good enough for the High Lord’s brother apparently. Not good enough for sweet smiles or flowers.

Just something to claim and discard. 

Something inside of you broke.

All the emotions you had been holding in were suddenly flooding out. So you finally let yourself cry. 

And cry.

And cry.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Months went by. You were sure how many. 

You had been stumbling around late one night, trying to learn the city streets when some male had approached you. He was charming, handsome. Said he could tell you were lost and asked if you’d like him to show you around.

You said yes. After all, your own mate hardly cared about you. He never sought you out after dumping you in the apartment. Never checked in on how you were adjusting…if you even were.

You weren’t. 

You hated this city and all it represented. Hated all the fae here who had never had to suffer at the hands of their own ruler. 

The male had done more than show you around. He introduced you to a whole other world, one that was hidden in the underbelly of this city. Something that felt a little more like the home you knew. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Present Day

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You were woken up by the sheets being yanked off your body. You sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. You groaned, lifting a hand to your pounding head. Your vision finally came into focus, narrowing in on a seething Azriel standing at the foot of your bed. 

Gasps came from around you and it took you a second to realize you were not only naked, but in the middle of several other naked bodies—two females and one male. You quickly pulled the sheets back over yourself. 

“Get out,” Azriel growled at them. “Now.” 

No one moved, too startled. 

“Now!” Azriel roared. “Before I rip out your throats!” 

That had all of them moving. But you stayed frozen on the bed, staring at Azriel. Silence rang in your apartment until they were all gone, leaving the two of you alone. Azriel tossed you a robe and you quickly shrugged it on, standing up from the bed. 

“I thought this would be over by now, y/n,” Azriel snarled, moving out of your bedroom back to the living area. He grabbed the kitchen trash can and started stalking through your apartment. It took you a second to realize what he was doing before you cried out, rushing to stop him. 

“What are you doing?!”

“This is done, y/n,” Azriel snapped, brushing you off him. “I’m done giving you access to my accounts if all you’re going to do is buy drugs and get fucked up every day.” 

He grabbed a bag of mirthroot and tossed it into the trash can. You shouted at him to stop, trying to rip the trash out of his hands. 

Didn’t he understand?!

You needed that. You needed the drugs, needed the alcohol. You needed it to shut your mind off, to keep the empty and depressing thoughts away. You would die without them.

“Azriel, stop!”

“No,” he snarled back at you. “This has to stop, y/n.”

“Why are you so concerned about this now?” you shouted, tossing your hands in the air. “You’ve never cared before. Why now?” 

You stalked after him, trying to grab the trash from his hands but he easily pushed you away. You felt desperate tears line your eyes. 

“I’ve always cared!” Azriel yelled. “I have always cared about you, y/n. But I thought you would phase out of this. I thought you just needed to explore your new freedom and get it out of your system. But you haven’t stopped and you’re out of control!” 

You fisted the back of his shirt, forcing him to stop. “You have never cared for me! Just fucking leave, Azriel. This is my life. I will live it how I want to.”

“Not while I’m the one funding it!”

He glared down at you and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Then don’t! I don’t need your money. I don’t need you. I can find someone else. I can go somewhere else.” 

“Really? You’d just fuck off with some other male?!” Azriel shouted. “After everything I’ve done for you?!”

You scoffed. “What the fuck have you ever done for me, Azriel?! You dragged me from my home, forced me here, and then treated me like I was nothing to you!”

“I was giving you the space you wanted!”

“No, you were busy fucking the High Lady’s sister,” you snapped. “Why don’t you go back to her if this is too much for you? I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t want this!” 

“Keep Elain out of this! She’s done nothing to you,” Azriel growled, making you see red. “Elain is my friend. She sure as hell cares about me more than you do.” 

“You know what? Fuck you, Azriel,” you said, pushing him away from you. “Fuck you. Fuck your High Lord and Lady. Fuck her stupid sisters. Fuck your whole stupid family! You’re right! You’ve all done nothing! Nothing! Just let us all suffer in that city while you all got to be happy here!” 

“And what are you doing to help anyone, y/n? What are you doing besides getting drunk and high every single night?” Azriel tossed the trash at your feet, as if to prove his point. “All you’ve done is become a burden!” 

Your breath caught in your throat and you took a step away from him. A burden? You were a burden to him? He was the one who took you! The one who brought you here!

“Then get out,” you whispered. “Get out and leave and never fucking come back.” 

Azriel let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t.”

You glared up at him. “No, Azriel, I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck you want from me! You come here, fuck me and leave! How am I supposed to know what you mean?!”

“You think any of this is easy for me? You think I was overjoyed to find out my mate had been suffering in Hewn City the whole time I was living here? Do you know how much I prayed to the Mother for a mate? How much I wanted this? And now I have it. Now I have you and fuck, I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to help you!” 

“Well, you might as well give up now! I don’t want your help, Azriel. I can’t be helped! I’m not broken!”

“Then explain all of this!” Azriel shouted, gesturing at the mess in your apartment. The empty bottles, the drugs on the table. “I gave you a year, y/n. I gave you a year to adjust, to build a life here in Velaris for yourself!”

“Have you considered that I don’t want to?! I don’t belong here, Azriel. I don’t belong in this city, in this place!”

If I could tell you how I feel, I know that you’re still hurting too. No, I’m not broken. I’m just scared to belong here, scared to be happier. 

You wiped at the tears pouring down your face now. Your head was still pounding, your throat hoarse from the screaming. It was too much. It was all too much. 

“You know what I think? I think you’re scared,” Azriel snarled. “I think you’re scared to give all of this up. I think you’re scared to get better. I think you’re scared to let yourself be happy for once!” 

“You’re one to talk,” you snapped back. “You’re just as scared as I am, Azriel, you just hide it better. But I’m your mate and I know how you feel. I can see it.” 

“And what do you think I see when I look at you?” His voice was ice cold. “I see someone broken. I see someone so broken they don’t even know how to be happy. You never have, have you?” 

“Have you?” you shot back at him. “Have you ever felt happy, Azriel? Of course I’m not happy! Why the fuck would I be happy here?” 

The apartment fell silent as you both glared at each other, so many emotions swirling in your eyes. You hated him, hated what he had done to you, hated that you needed him, hated that you felt like you would die without him. And you knew he felt that way too, could see the anguish on his face. 

Azriel whispered your name so quietly, you would’ve thought you imagined it if you hadn’t seen his lips move. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his wings drooping to the floor. Your eyes widened as he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face against your stomach. You felt his tears wet your silk robe. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know how to do this. You think I don’t care about you, but you are all I care about. This whole world could burn to the ground and it’d still be you I looked for in the ash.” 

“I am already nothing but ash,” you whispered. “I might not have your scars, Azriel, but I have been burned too. Everything has been taken from me. Everything. Of course I’m scared to love you. Of course I’m scared to be happy. I can give you nothing because so little of me exists now.” 

“That’s not true,” he muttered against your stomach. “That’s not true at all, y/n. I don’t need anything from you. I just need you to let me help you. Please. Let me help you put yourself back together. Let me help you take away the pain. Let me give you a better life. Give me that chance. That's all I ask for.” 

“I can’t.” Your voice cracked as he gripped you harder. “You’re right. I am scared. I’m a coward. I can’t…I-I can’t let myself be happy. I can’t let myself feel anything. It hurts too much.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Azriel whispered. “So let me help you. Let me in. Let me make you feel something. I can feel your anger, I can feel your rage inside. Take it out on me if you have to. But stop shutting me out. I’m sorry for how things started. I didn’t know what to do. I was overwhelmed, scared, hurt. But please give me the chance to make it up to you. Please, baby, let me help you. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.” 

You fell to your knees in front of him, mirroring his position. His hazel eyes bore into yours, every single emotion he felt poured down the bond between the two of you. For once you let yourself show him how you felt. You undid the binds on your heart, cracked the barrier you had put up between the two of you. You let it all loose. Everything. Every single emotion you felt.

Azriel cradled your face in his hands. Kohl had made black trails down your face with your tears, your robe had slipped off one shoulder, your hair had half fallen out of your braid, but you had never looked more beautiful to him than in this moment. Because he was finally seeing you. The person you hid behind the drugs and alcohol. The person you hid between the sheets. 

You were scarred, hurt, and broken. You had a darkness swelling in you that matched his own. You were the first sight of blood emerging from a wound, the torn pages of a book, the flame of an almost melted candle, the fog obscuring the woods. You were made of everything he was. You were his equal, his love, his mate. 

You were scared and he was too. But as he pressed his lips against yours desperately, you saw a world where that fear might not exist. A world where you were happy and loved and whole again. You weren’t there now. You wouldn’t be there tomorrow.

But perhaps in the end, that’s where you’d find yourself.  

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[letshavedeernnertogether]

'Till nothing's left

the plot is: you came to the Radio Demon with just one request: eat me. Will he take the offer of a stranger?

words ≈ 3.1k

warnings: cannibalism, sexual tension that's turning into a little smut cuz i can't hold myself back, blood and gore, g/n reader, when i say cannibalism i mean a lot of cannibalism, you will be eaten >:)

author's note: is it a special treat for the friday the 13th? who knows... i was in a mood for something gross, but then i became horny, and then i got tired and sad. so we have this. and you have no idea how many times i changed the title (and i'm still not satisfied)

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Alastor heard a quiet knock at the door, he wasn't waiting for anyone, and sent his shadow to meet a visitor. 

When the door opened you faced a slim shadow with a wide grin and narrow eyes. It slowly tilted its head, looking you over from head to toes. Its grin widened as if it saw something luscious in your form.

“May I come in?” You asked.

The shadow held its gaze on you for a little more and then flew aside, letting you in.

You followed the shadow through the hall, all was wood finished and decorated with deer antlers and heads of animals that fell as a hunter’s prey. The air in the house felt viscous and heavy, it smelled with wood, fur and rich alcohol. You came to the centre of the room, your guide suddenly dissolved, and a tall man materialised in its place. Now in the silence of the living room you stood in front of the Radio Demon himself.

His figure towered over you, casting shadow on you, but his crimson eyes illuminated your face, letting him examine you closely. His large yellow teeth were the sharpest you'd seen in hell, his smile was worse than sinners described you. It lay on his face like a slit, cutting his face from one ear to another, and his ears were on the top of his head. He grinned down at you, and you could hear a soft crackling of static sounding as if from his chest.

“Hello,” He pronounced, the sound of a static voice brushed your ears, making shivers run down your spine. You only nodded in response, feeling that your voice would fail you if you tried to speak with him now.

“Who do I have the honour of speaking with?”

“My name doesn't matter,” You uttered, finally collecting yourself and directing your eyes to him, “I'm here to offer you something, Mr. Radio Demon.”

“Just Alastor, dear,” He waved his hand, “And what is the offering?”

“Eat me.”

Like a curious animal he slowly tilted his head, his ears slightly stood up, a smile showed you more of his blade-like fangs, the shadow under his feet moved.

“Interesting,” He whispered, as if afraid that a loud voice could frighten your ask away, “And what did I do to deserve this, hm?”

You made a tiny step back when he made a step to you. Your eyes shifted, unable to maintain eye contact with the demon as you tried to phrase your thoughts, “It's not just a giving, Alastor. I give you my flesh but you have to know it has some consequences. For you. And… pleasurable ones I suppose…”

“What are the consequences, dear?” He raised a brow, looking down at you.

“I can't tell you but I swear with my soul — which soon will become yours — it won't hurt you.”

“Hmm,” He tapped his sharp chin with his index finger, “And why do you even offer me that?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided to answer the truth,

“It has its benefits for me as well.”

Looking in your eyes, Alastor could hardly read your thoughts. Your look wasn’t empty, though it seemed so when he first saw you. And now glaring down at you, he saw obstinacy in your gaze, and that was more important, the absence of fear. You came to him, offering just one thing — yourself. Corporally and spiritually. And he would be lying if he told you that he didn't find you beautiful at this moment, when all you longed for was sliding into his mouth between his sharp teeth and slippery tongue to bathe in his digestive juices. To dissolve inside of him. To satiate him.

Alastor knew he wouldn't refuse your offer, you looked so delectable, but he wanted to torture you with some questions just a little more as he saw how uncomfortable you were with them.

“And what if you're not for my taste?” He asked half teasingly, half seriously.

You answered in a deadpan, “Dismember me then with your teeth and let me bleed as an unworthy thing. But if I am then eat me. Consume me. Until nothing is left.“

Your eyes looked at him seriously and yet pleadingly. You didn't actually explain why you wanted to end your existence and why in such a way, but Alastor didn't really care. He was hungry. You looked delicious. You came here by your own will, offering him your body to eat. Why would he deny the offer? Why if your blush was so lovely, why if your vein pulsed so delightfully, why if you smelled like dark chocolate, salivating his mouth?

His hands lifted you easily and brought you to the table in the dining room to place on top of it. Your feet hang off from the table, your hands, you didn't know until now, clutched onto the red lapels of Alastor's suit.

“I ask you for the last time,” His eyes travelled down from your face to your neck, to your chest and belly that slowly rose and fell with every deep breath you were taking. Alastor licked his bottom lip, collecting the drool escaping his mouth. His heavy gaze met your eyes again, the hot breath of him burnt your face when he asked, “Will you feed me?”

Without hesitation, looking straight into his crimson eyes, you said,

“Bon appétit.”

A short sight escaped his lips as his smile grew wider. His tongue brushed his lips once again, and he leaned closer to you until his appendage touched the delicate skin on your neck. It traced up to the lobe of your ear, his teeth slightly grazed your skin, you heard his inhales and gulps so clearly, the sound awoke something in you, but you didn't dare to let yourself know what exactly. You just lay, burning from inside out under him, as his tongue licked where you were bare, whilst his hands kept you still.

“Delicious. Really, so delicious…” He murmured against your skin, and you felt how he began to undo your shirt. His palms travelled along your body, his fingertips tapped against your ribs and tummy, his claws slightly broke your skin, and his open mouth slid down to every new wound. His hot lips greedily pressed around the slit, tongue drew circles around the hole, the top of it slightly separated the thin walls, sliding inside, tasting your flesh, and making weak cries escape your mouth. It hurt, but somehow you didn't want him to stop. Alastor was gentle in a cruel act. He tenderly tore your skin up from your muscles, it burnt and stung at the same time, but as if under a spell your senses became dull, and next second his tongue licking up your bleeding flesh felt like a caress.

“Mmmph…” You bit on your lower lip when Alastor sank his teeth deep in you for the first time.

He immediately raised his head, looking at you,

“Too painful?” His lips and chin took the colour of your blood, they slightly glistened, and you couldn't understand why the hell he looked so handsome with your own blood on his face, “You didn't think it would be painless, did you?”

“I thought you'd do it quickly,” You admitted with your weak voice.

Alastor chuckled in low. It was a very dark and charming laughter, “Oh no, my dear! I want to savour the moment. It's not everyday dinner comes to me itself, and not everyday I eat something so good. And you, my dear, are in fact a delicacy.” His eyes looked over your figure, he licked his bloody lips clean, and his hands traced down to take off your trousers and underwear. Unbelievable how you still felt shame and tried to cross your legs to hide your sex, but the clawed black palms stopped you. His shadow grabbed you by your knees, peering at your blushed face, and when you tore your eyes from it, you saw Alastor admiring the view of your abdomen, thighs and…

“Are you gonna eat there?”

“You wish,” He smirked, “But I wouldn't mind having a bite here.”

He bent himself, eyes locked to yours, hands pressing you to the wooden surface. You gasped as his fangs buried in your thigh, and he tilted his head forward, breaking your skin more. You screamed for the first time, Alastor rolled up and closed his eyes in bliss. A satisfied groan was heard from his side.

He retracted his fangs from your thigh, admiring his work: your skin stained with blood, especially dark holes where his teeth went too deep were bleeding, the heavy smell of iron filled the air. Just a little more pressure and he could take a bite from you, your flesh would have been swallowed, a piece of you would have dwelled inside him. But he didn't do it. Because then you would cry, you would be scared, you'd like to take your words back, and Alastor wanted you to of your own free will until the end.

The room was filled with your soft whimpers, with the sound of your deep breaths in and out as you tried to bear with the pain. And these sounds were a peaceful melody for his ears, for in every weak inhale Alastor still could hear the shades of pleasure.

He was starving, but you were the first one in his sinful life who came to him volunteered just to feed him, to please him, and he was, to be honest, flattered. This day would be special for him for eternity, and he wanted to make it the same for you. And though all he would give to you this day would be pain, Alastor could at least try to blend it with delicious pride. He would be speaking compliments, praises and other kind words to show you how much he was enjoying you, for you deserved to know how much pleasure you delivered to him in your last minutes of life.

And he cooed,

“You're doing very well, my dear. Not many act as bravely as you do. You're truly a gem.” His hands caressed your hips and slowly went up with his fingertips slightly brushing your skin, until he gently cupped your face in his palms. He could see big tears forming in your eyes ready to run down your cheeks in every moment. Your cheeks blushed with shame of nudity, and your lips tried to take the form of something that would help you to pronounce a plea or his name maybe. You looked so perfect for him right now.

You in your turn saw a smiling demon hovering over you with a face stained with your blood. His chin, teeth, cheeks, the tip of his nose… Everything was red. Alastor rested his palms on the table, hanging over you, a shadow fell on his face but his eyes were glowing like embers, illuminating both of you with cherry red light. His tongue was licking his lips from left to right and from up down as he tried to collect everything of you what was around his mouth, and in his eyes you clearly saw adoration.

Your heart beat faster, and you parted your lips, taking a breath in. Your own blood dripped on you from his face, some droplets fell on your lips and by a reflex your tongue swept them inside. The sight made Alastor feel the heat, and the fact you didn't wince at your own taste made him lean closer to you.

“Darling,” He purred in low, sending vibration through your limbs, “How about your last wish? I'll do anything you ask for before I eat you up.” His face was now so close to yours you smelled your blood in his breath, and his every exhalation burnt your lips. “My sweet dear, let me please you as you please me. One good turn deserves another.” 

Your eyes roamed all over his face, and Alastor found it incredibly cute. His one hand found its place on your unwounded tight, caressing your soft skin until a little tickling made you slightly quiver under him. That moment Alastor knew that even if you'd ask for something indecent, he would do even this. He never felt attraction to a body, but yours looked so tasty he wanted to have it in every way possible. Of course with your permission. His name was dropped from your delicious lips in a long moan, making Alastor light up with self pride, when his hand slipped to your heat surprising him with its sticky wetness and warmth. Oh, did you really want this?

But your fingers closed around his wrist,

“J-just eat me. Oh… Just.. Until nothing’s left.” You looked at him pleadingly, licking your lips, carefully choosing your words, suppressing your carnal desire, ”I just want to be the only one you treat like that. Just promise me that you will never eat anyone the way you eat me.”

That was your wish, then? Very well. It was strange, but.. To his taste actually.

Alastor retracted his right hand, abandoning your sensitive warmth. He wasn't too sorry for this actually, his stomach ached more than any other part of his body. And after all, your last wish included more intimacy than what he had almost offered you.

To be his only one? To give his all attention only to you?

He gave you a smile that made your blood rush,

“I promise, my dear, you're my only one. And no one will ever experience the same as you will soon.” He lowered his head and you felt a touch to your chest and then heard a sound of a kiss, “Only for you I give my mouth and my body as your new home.”

Kisses and bites fell all over your body like drops of rain during a storm. Alastor marked your arms and your palms, your neck and chest, tummy and hips, your legs, knees, feet. He left pecks on your face and licked the tears running down behind your ears as you were lying, so he let his tongue mark these places too. Covering your body with kisses and cuts of his fangs, Alastor didn't stop hailing you with praises. He told you how beautiful your body was, described how good you tasted, he admired your behaviour and thanked you for coming to him. His words honeyed your ears, and every loving kiss accompanied with a little suck on a fresh wound soothed your pain.

Alastor didn't want to finish his meal and didn't even want to really start it, you were too delicious to be eaten up in a single bite. He wanted to savour you and he tried to prolong the pleasure as long as possible, to keep you in this state between bliss and torture for more. It was such a delicious sight. And the sounds you were making for him…

And when his teeth sunk too deep, and he heard your suppressed cries, he couldn't help his hand to go back to the delicious spot and fondle you until your sobs turned into deep exhales and long moans. You didn't try stop him anymore when he gently fucked you, and you didn't understand anymore whether your cried of the pain or pleasure he fed your body with.

You only wanted him to never stop being such a gentleman in such a gruesome act of love.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ * 

The table was clean. Well, it was clean from your body but not from your blood that still stained the tabletop, ran down the legs and made a dark red puddle on the parquet.

Alastor made as you wished — he left nothing.

Even your soul.

He killed you in the way he thought was the best for you. He believed it was a true act of mercy when he took your life with a single motion in a moment when you reached your heavenly bliss, so your brain didn't realise all the pain Alastor brought to your poor body. And when your body became lifeless but still warm Alastor ate limb by limb, leaving the most delicious parts for a dessert. He ate you raw, not willing to spoil your meat with any other tastes. You were perfect. Just the way you were lying in front of him with your bare soul and body. You were perfect.

The only part of you was left.

Your heart.

He traced with his fingertip along the muscle. When this little organ would disappear between his jaws all the traces of your living would be gone. And only a taste of you on his tongue, a memory of you on his fingers would still be wandering in hell by means of his mind.

But Alastor still didn't know the benefits of your death for you. He thought maybe you even lied to him about this to appear in his stomach sooner. But then there was a question: why? But you were the only person who knew the answer, and now you were gone. Completely.

And nevertheless Alastor was sure that consuming you gave him something pleasurable, just as you promised him. It was like your flesh filled him with something he had always lacked. And he foretasted the moment when your soul would saturate with him to increase his powers, for he knew in the moment he was chewing your heart that you were not just a common sinner. You were something bigger, greater.  

You were something he was sorry that it passed so soon. But he wasn't sorry he couldn't have anyone like you — you were unique. Perfect and ideal. And no one would ever compare to you. Not just to your taste and the tenderness of your flesh. You were more than a tasty dinner and a good deal. You gave him affection, showed him what attachment was. And with your delicacy you showed him that he could be loving too. And that this feeling could be pleasurable.

He wasn't sorry he wouldn't have others, but he was sorry he wouldn't have you. And so, swallowing the last piece of your heart, still sweet and warm, he waited for the surge of new powers, that such a special and worthy thing as you would definitely awaken in him. And then, resurrected in his power and magic, you would live as long as he lived, and as he killed another sinner, he would remember this evening and dinner, and the love you had proven existed.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

ps: seems like i was a little too crazy... and i think you can actually see how my mood changed while writing

one day i'll return to fluffy stories, but for now i just want... this.

[writerracha]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ on the run — lee know x female reader

↻ 4.9k :: best friends to lovers :: cw. auditory voyeurism. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex (f and m receiving). soft deepthroat and throat fucking. use of "angel" nickname. unprotected sex. claiming. marking. creampie.

you have been accused of a crime you didn't commit. you have to run away, and your best friend minho comes with you. you're on the road, away from all you've ever known. but you are not alone. minho is here, and there are things you need to tell each other. noisy motel room neighbors might help you do just that.

↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You’ve been running for so long. 

Out of breath, out of hope. You wonder if, one day, all of this will stop. Falsely accused, framed by someone you thought loved you. You were sure you were done for, that you would have to spend the better part of your life in jail for a crime you didn’t commit - but then Minho had taken your hand and taken you away. 

He hadn’t hesitated. He just told you to get in the car, and when you did, he drove away. From your hometown, from everything both of you have always known. Now you are halfway across the country, with nothing to your name, just a car and some money. 

You don’t understand why he did it. Why he came with you. Minho was not involved in this, not in the slightest - yet he just left everything behind to stay with you. I don’t want you to be alone, he told you when you asked him why he helped you. I could never leave you on your own. Minho was your friend, your best friend. You met in high school and never let each other go. But he didn’t have to do this. Sacrifice his entire life, risk it all, and for what? Maybe you would get caught. Maybe the truth would come out. Maybe not. For now Minho kept telling you to look and move forward. Even when you felt your heart would tumble out from between your lips, even when the fear was so cold you thought you would die, Minho’s voice soothed you. It will be okay, Y/N. I will always be with you. 

You were on the road a lot at first. Avoiding people, putting as much distance between you and your hometown as you could. Minho had fortunately thought to take some cash out before you left, so you had funds. It would not last very long, but it would have to do. Then you would figure it out. 

The motel room is cold, so you slide your legs under the covers to keep warm. You decided to stop for the night and get some actual rest. You did not do it all the time to save cash. Most nights you would sleep at intervals, the other one driving while the other closed their eyes. But it was more exhausting than anything, so Minho had insisted on sleeping in actual beds for once. The motel was a dingy place off the highway, but it was better than nothing, and at least, here, no one would ask questions. 

You rest your head against your knees, watching the television without really seeing it. Your thoughts are restless, trying to figure out a way out of this - if not for you, then at least for Minho. Your best friend did not deserve to throw his life away for you. Especially not because your ex boyfriend, that piece of garbage, had been so angry at you breaking up with him he framed you for something he did. Why did people believe him? 

A sigh escapes your lips as the door of the room opens on Minho. His hoodie is drawn on his head, his hair tucked away. You feel relief to see him - the room felt cold and threatening without him. You’ve never been good at being alone, and it’s even worse now. 

“Hey,” he tells you, giving you a smile as he removes his sneakers. “How did the shower feel?” 

“Really good,” you chuckle. “Did you find everything?” 

He nods, placing the plastic bag on the bed. 

“I found you a paler shade, but they didn’t have much for me. I had to get purple.” 

“Purple?” you repeat, surprised. 

“Let’s hope it suits me,” he grins with a shrug. 

You take out the two boxes of hair dye from the bag, eyeing them. It was Minho’s idea to transform yourselves a little bit, just in case. All of it felt so much like a game you sometimes forgot it was real. But it was. 

Minho’s feet make no noise against the carpet of the room. He sits on the opposite bed and you glance at him. He removed his hood, his soft brown hair disheveled on his head. He has dark eyes under his eyes, and you know his exhaustion mirrors yours. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach, but you know what he will say if you say it out loud. I’m not leaving you alone. 

“Thanks for getting this,” you tell him.

He nods towards the drugstore plastic bag. “Got us a few things to eat, too. Nothing fancy, but…” 

“It’s great. I’m not too hungry, though.” 

“Me neither. It’s so cold here.” 

“I know, right? I tried to fix the heater, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken.” 

Minho shuffles towards the appliance and toys with it for a minute. You try to watch the television, but instead your eyes are focused on him. His dark hoodie, his faded jeans, his white socks. The frown on his face and the slight pout of his lips that he gets when he’s focused. Minho is the best friend you’ve ever had. You know him well - and him, you. You’ve gone through heartbreaks, defeats, joys, and countless other things together. But this? This is changing you. Both of you. 

And even if you feel awful about dragging him into this, you are glad he’s here. 

You wouldn’t want it to be anybody else. 

After some time, Minho clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nothing we can do with this…” 

“It’s fine, Min,” you say. “We’ll warm up some other way.” 

He gives you a long look and you realize what it could infer. You blush slightly. 

“I just mean, we could share a bed. Share the warmth.” 

He gives you a nod, his eyes looking soft in the dim light of the room. “Okay.” 

You tap the space next to you playfully. With an amused chuckle, Minho comes to sit next to you, tucking his legs under the sheets. The bed is not that big, so even if there is some space between you, it doesn’t feel like it. You are not shy about it - you’ve slept in the same bed numerous times, you’ve even cuddled before. But this still feels new, in a way. It feels odd. 

It feels like you and Minho are the only people left in the world. 

You watch the television, your head falling against his shoulder. He leans towards you so you’re more comfortable, his hand ending up on your leg - above the comforter. With him next to you, the both of you bundled up in hoodies, you feel much less cold. Neither of you talk. Neither of you move, either. You just breathe and let the sound of the television lull you to sleep. 

Except you do not want to sleep. Except you like Minho’s warmth a little bit too much, except he smells so much like himself you feel like drowning in delight. Except you desperately want to slide your fingers in between his, except you want to push your legs against his, except you wonder how his neck would feel under your lips. You have to admit it - you want him. 

You have for a while. It started even before all of this - random thoughts crossing your mind about kissing your best friend, about letting him treat you right like he always said guys should do. When he took your hand and ran away with you, your mind was too occupied with the mess to think about him like that, but now that the adrenaline is dying down, that this odd routine is settling him, you find yourself thinking about it again. Minho. Your best friend. Your everything. 

Your heart aches when you think about what he did for you.

What he still does every day for you.

How he smiles at you, how he looks at you. 

For now you just enjoy the moment of quiet, letting your body relax, your thoughts wander off. You are sure you are going to fall asleep right there when a noise attracts your attention. You frown, trying to listen more attentively. It’s coming from the room next to yours - thumps on the wall, voices talking. 

It quickly becomes obvious what is going on. The thumping becomes regular, and the voices turn into moans. It’s not too loud, but you can still hear it above the television. You feel yourself blush, wondering if Minho is hearing it too. You’re torn between laughing and pretending like you’re not hearing it. But as the moans grow louder, and the banging of what sounds like a headboard against the wall fastening, you can’t pretend. 

Minho is the first to laugh. You snort, the both of you falling into giggles. 

“Someone is having fun,” he says. 

“Clearly, yeah,” you laugh. 

Minho raises the volume of the television a little bit, and it muffles the sound, but you can still hear it well. You try to ignore it, but a part of you can’t help but listen. It really does sound like they are having fun. The girl is vocal, and from what you can hear, the guy is too, telling her things you can’t quite make out. She’s moaning a lot. 

You try really hard not to be turned on by the sounds, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while - but there is something so lewd about just sitting there while other people are having sex next door. The girl’s moans are full of pleasure, and from the rhythm of the thumping, the guy is pounding into her at a fast pace.

You breathe out slowly, suddenly feeling very warm next to Minho. With a quick glance you confirm he is still staring at the television, looking entranced by what is happening on the screen. Either he doesn’t care about what he’s hearing or he’s good at ignoring it. 

The hand he has on your leg has gone very still. 

You bite your lip hard, trying to resist the urge to push your thighs together. You can feel yourself getting wet at the sounds, your imagination running wild. What position are they in? Are they lovers, or is it just a hook-up? You can’t help but think of being in her place, hands pinned to the mattress, a cock buried deep inside you, Minho breathing in your neck…

You snap back to reality. Minho? No, no. You can’t think about him that way, not now, not when he’s lying next to you in bed, warm and soft. 

Miraculously you are able to keep yourself in check. Only a few minutes later, the woman cries out particularly loud and then everything goes silent. You guess they are done - either they are going to sleep or they are leaving. Either way, you can finally breathe again, and it looks like Minho is relieved too. 

“I think I’m going to sleep,” you tell him in a low voice. “You can keep watching tv if you want, I don’t mind.” 

“I’m exhausted, too, don’t worry,” Minho smiles, looking at you. His cheeks are a little red, you notice. “I’ll just run to the bathroom and join you.” 

You nod, replacing the pillows on the mattress as he closes the television and disappears in the small bathroom. You hear the tap water, so you guess he’s brushing his teeth - you settle comfortably under the sheets, closing your eyes. You’re so tired, your body sore, your mind heavy, surely sleep will come easily. 

Except it doesn’t - because all you can think about are those sounds. 

Instinctively your hand reaches between your legs, finding their way inside your leggings to your underwear. You push two fingers against your aching core. The fabric of your panties is a little wet, and you guess that if you were to touch yourself underneath, you’d find your folds soaked. The pressure feels too good, so you keep it there for a few seconds, a soft sigh escaping your lips. 

Those moans. Those sighs. What if someone loved you like that? Made you feel good like that? Lips against your skin, maybe a mouth against your cunt, a tongue sucking in your clit, your fingers tugging at Minho’s hair… 

Fuck! 

You nearly cum at the thought, but at the same time the bathroom door opens and Minho comes back towards the bed. You remove your hand from between your legs, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Fortunately it is dark enough for him not to see you, and he slides back into his spot next to yours. The mattress shifts under his weight, but you do not move, your head buried on the pillow. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Goodnight, Min.” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. You can’t find sleep, unable to toss and turn in the bed because you are scared to wake up Minho. At some point you find yourself drifting off, but you startle back awake. 

The moans have started again. 

Clearly the pair next door has not left, because they are back at it. You let out an audible sigh and Minho, next to you, laughs a little. 

“I guess we’re not sleeping,” he says. 

“I guess not.” 

You both lay down, facing the ceiling. The moans aren’t too loud for now, but you can imagine it’s only a matter of time before they get as intense as earlier. 

“You remember my ex, the law student?” Minho asks, all of a sudden. 

You frown, turning your head towards him. “Yeah, why?” 

“She was so loud, too,” he tells you. “Even worse than that.” 

Surprise flashes in your eyes but you can’t help chuckle. “Really?” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess when I told her I like it when my partners are vocal, she took it to heart. But like, way too much. And it sounded so fake.” 

You are glad that the room is plunged in darkness because you can feel your cheeks heat up. You and Minho have talked about sex before - you’ve even shared intimate details, but for some reason it feels different now. Maybe because minutes before you were touching yourself to the thought of him.

“Wow,” you laugh. “That’s like the opposite of my ex. He didn’t make any sound and he didn’t like it when I did…” 

Minho sighs. “What a dick, honestly.” 

“I got used to it,” you shrug. 

“He never treated you right,” Minho insists. “You have such a pretty voice, too. I’d never tell you not to make noise.” 

You feel your chest tightening, your mouth going dry. Now that your eyes are adjusted to the darkness you can see Minho pretty well, and now he’s looking flustered, blinking rapidly. 

“I - I mean… L-like I said, I just…” 

“Minho,” you whisper, interrupting him.

Your heart is beating so fast you feel like you’ll be sick, but you can’t hold it back. Especially not with the moans coming from the other room, with the warmth between your legs, with what he has just told you. I’d never tell you not to make noise. You just need to know. You need to know. 

Maybe the dark is giving you courage. Maybe it’s everything Minho does for you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes shine, so close to yours.

“Why did you come with me?” you finally ask, your voice just a whisper. 

He blinks, looking at you with wide, deep eyes. “I…” 

For a second you think he will say the same thing he always does. A part of you wants to hear it again, because you could never get tired of it, and because you know it is true - but another part of you wants to hear something else. You don’t even know if it’s possible. If it’s something he feels. But you have to try. You have to know. 

Minho takes a deep breath. “Because I love you.” 

You feel like bursting into tears because it’s all you ever wanted to hear. You grasp at the covers, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“Please tell me you feel the same,” Minho adds, hopefully, desperately. 

“I love you,” you breathe out. “Of course I love you.” 

And it’s the simplest thing. Minho reaches for you as you reach for him, your lips meeting halfway, bodies tumbling in a sweet embrace. He pulls you close, holding you in his arms, his kiss feverish, desperate, relieved, hungry. His lips dance with yours, one of his hands  holding your head. You wrap your arms around him, not wasting a second to close the distance between your bodies. His chest is firm, and as your hips meet his, you realize he’s a little hard, just like you’re wet. 

The moans continue in the next room but you barely notice them. All you can hear is the sound of Minho’s breathing, his mouth on yours. You sigh as he pulls up one of your legs over his pelvis, making you straddle him. You lay down over him, not an inch between your bodies, your lips still meeting. He kisses you firmly and deeply, his hands all over your body, feeling your waist, your legs, your ass. You remove his t-shirt. You arch your back. 

“I love you, Minho,” you keep repeating. 

“I love you,” he answers every time. 

He pushes his tongue on your lips so you open your mouth to let him in. It’s wet and warm and it sends your mind reeling. You feel drunk, you feel dizzy, and Minho kisses you so well it’s like the rest of the world fades. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re everything to me… Everything I want.” 

“Minho,” you sigh. “Put your hands on me, please.” 

He nods, kissing you again, his hands discovering your body. He takes one of your tits in his hand, massaging it slowly, and you roll your hips against him. He’s getting harder, his cock almost flush with your wetness, and you feel your walls throb with the craving of him. You moan against his touch, and he rolls you on your back again, towering over you. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, looking you in the eyes. 

“Hm?” 

“Please make all the noise you want,” he says. 

You smile, playing with his hair. “I promise, as long as you do, too.” 

With a grin he leans down to kiss you again, removing your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, so he goes down to kiss your tits, swirling your tongue around your hard nipples, making you moan. Minho hums appreciatively.

“You sound so lovely,” he says. “I could never not want to hear you…” 

“Keep talking to me,” you tell him, your fingers in his air as he plays with your breasts, kissing them, licking them, teasing them. “Please keep telling me things.” 

“I promise, my angel. I promise.” 

Minho trails his tongue down your stomach, pushing your sweatpants down, leaving you in just your underwear. He looks down at you, placing two fingers against your clit, above the fabric. He starts to draw soft circles, making you shiver. 

“F-fuck, Minho…” 

“You’re so wet, angel. Is it because of our neighbors?” 

You bite your lip. “A little,” you say, although it’s hard to speak as Minho keeps stroking your wetness. “But also - also… You…”

“Me?” he asks, finally pulling down your panties to reveal your slicked folds. 

“I could only t-think of you… Hearing them…” 

“You imagined it was me making you moan like that? Fucking you deep into the motel bed? Is that what you would like, my angel?” 

You nod, Minho’s breath feeling warm against your cunt, his agile fingers exploring your folds. He spreads your legs, holding your legs apart. “Y-yes…” 

“I’ll do my best,” he smiles. “I just want to spend some time down here before I fuck you… I’ve wanted to treat you right for so long… I want to make you cum, is that all right?” 

As he asks, he pushes two fingers inside of you, and you let out a shuddering moan. 

“Tell me,” he says softly.

“Y-yes, Minho, please! Make me cum!” 

“Fuck, just hearing you say that, I could cum on the spot.” 

But he doesn’t - instead he leans into you, his mouth covering your wetness. His tongue swirls around your clit, collecting your slick, and you can’t help but moan uncontrollably. He makes you feel so good, so loved. His lips kissing you, his tongue everywhere, pushing and teasing. He moves his fingers inside of you at the same time, curving them into your sweet spots, and you grasp at the sheets, lost in your pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes, keep moaning for me, angel,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back.” 

You couldn’t if you wanted to - Minho is too good at what he does, like he already knows everything that makes you go crazy. His rhythm accelerates, then slows down, his mouth deliciously eating your cunt. You can’t think anymore, one of your hands is lost in his soft hair. Your moans accompany the ones from next door, combined with the wet sounds of Minho’s tongue and fingers around your drenched pussy. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out. “Minho, I’m…” 

He doesn’t say anything, just accelerates exactly what he was doing, and your orgasm flashes through you. Minho keeps licking your cunt until you stop shaking, and then slowly makes his way up your body, placing wet kisses on your skin. You don’t think you’ve ever moaned this loud in your life, and as you start to come down your high, you feel a little embarrassed. 

When he kisses your lips, tasting of you, you open your eyes. Even in the dark you can see that his mouth is a little swollen, still wet with your juices. 

“S-sorry…” you whimper. 

He frowns, stroking your hair. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Was I too loud?” 

He smiles, cupping your cheeks. “You could never be too loud. I just hope it was good for you.” 

“Are you kidding?” you chuckle. “That was the best orgasm of my life.” 

Minho laughs, and your heart swells at the sight of his teeth, the shape of his eyes. He is so beautiful. And he loves you. With a sudden surge of love you bounce upwards, kissing him deeply, and you want to touch him everywhere. Minho lets your hands roam over his body, and you quickly reach his boxers, where you find his hard cock. You palm it over the fabric and it twitches a little. Minho grunts. 

“You still want this?” he asks. 

You nod. “I want you. All of you.” 

He answers with a kiss, and helps you get rid of his boxers, his cock springing free. You stroke with one hand, the other pushing him down the bed. 

“Want to taste you, too,” you say, and you feel his breath shudder inside your mouth. 

Kneeling next to him, you kiss his stomach, his hips, his thighs - admiring at the same time the firm muscles of his body. Minho gathers your hair in his hand, holding it back from your face, breathing hard. 

You take his cock in your hand, kissing the tip, and you hear him grunt. You’re glad he doesn’t hold back making noise, just like he promised. You glance at him as you wrap your lips around his cock, slowly. Minho looks back at you, his eyes glassy, his mouth parted. You keep your eyes on each other as you go down his cock, taking all you can of him, and when you almost reach down he throws his head backwards in pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Y/N!” he growls. “You’re taking me whole… S-such a warm mouth…” 

You hum around his cock, starting to bob your head up and down, sucking him. Your tongue works too, teasing and licking him. Minho moans, the sound filling the room and your heart, and it’s so alluring you have to press two fingers against your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” Minho breathes. “Don’t stop, take it deeper… Just a little more - fuck, yes! Right there.” 

He thrusts his hips a little as you keep sucking him. He feels big in your mouth, and you know your lips will be sore, but you don’t care. Making him feel this good is intoxicating, and you don’t want to stop. 

“My angel,” he moans. “Looking so pretty with my cock around her lips…” 

He keeps whispering things, and you can’t help but moan alongside him, touching yourself at the same time. You could cum like this again, with Minho’s cock between your lips, his fingers pulling your hair softly. But after another minute, he strokes your cheek. 

“Come back to me, angel,” he whispers. “I don’t want to cum like this.” 

You are eager for his lips again so you do not insist, and Minho wraps you into an embrace, kissing you softly. He is warm, so warm - your bodies are a little sweaty, eager for each other. 

When he stops, you frown. “Is everything all right?” 

“They stopped,” he says, and you realize he is right. 

The room next door has gone silent again. You chuckle, but at the moment, you don’t really care. Neither does Minho, because he shrugs and kisses you again. He lays you down on the mattress again, holding your legs apart, his cock teasing your entrance. 

“I don’t have -” he looks at you.

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I don’t mind. I want you to fuck me like that.” 

He growls, leaning into your ear. The tip of his cock enters your hole, but he doesn’t go further, just feeling it there. You whimper for more, but Minho is busy kissing your neck and your ear. 

“I love hearing you say lewd stuff like that,” he chuckles. “It’s really hot.” 

“I like hearing you say it too,” you admit, kissing his shoulder. “Tell me something… Something you never thought you would say aloud.” 

A flash appears in his eyes, and he smiles. He kisses you, and whispers it against your lips. 

“I want to fuck you raw and mark you as mine,” he breathes. “Fill your sweet cunt with my cum and fuck it again, deep inside of you. Claim you. Keep you with me forever.” 

Your cunt tightens so much at the words you are sure Minho will feel it - and from the way his hips thrust forward, he might have. 

“I’m yours,” you whisper. “I’m yours, yours, yours.” 

Minho pushes deeper inside of you with every word until he bottoms out, stretching you, filling you. You moan his name again and again as he starts to fuck you, his hips gently meeting yours at first, letting you get used to him. 

“Mine,” he repeats. “Mine, as much as I’m yours.” 

You nod as his movements start getting sharper, slamming into you, his cock reaching deep inside of you. You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt around his dick and it makes you dizzy. 

“Tell me I’m yours,” Minho breathes, pumping his cock into you. 

“You’re mine,” you say, digging your fingers into his back. Your nails mark him, and they must hurt him, but Minho only moans louder. “Mine, mine.” 

He fucks you into the mattress, his hands holding your waist, your legs spread apart for him. After some time he lifts your ass a little, holding your legs up around him, and with this angle he reaches even deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

You moan with him, your voices and breathing mixing together. You are so close to cumming, clenching his cock hard, coating it with your juices. 

“Minho, fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out. 

Your climax rushes through you. Minho follows a second after, pushing as deep inside of you as he can. You can feel the warm spurts of white cum filling you, his cock throbbing, and when he is done he keeps fucking you for a minute. 

“My angel… mine,” he whispers. 

When both of your bodies start to untense, Minho removes himself from you, stroking your cunt with his fingers. He gathers some of your juices mixed with his cum, and brings it to your lips. You stare up at him and lick his fingers clean. He stares at you with a soft smile, tenderness spilling out of his eyes. 

He falls back on the mattress next to you, as spent as you are. 

“That was the hottest sex of my life,” he breathes. 

“Me too,” you chuckle, turning just to wrap an arm around his chest. 

He plays with your hair, kisses the top of your hair. “You know I meant it, right?” 

“What?” 

“Everything I said. I love you so much, Y/N.” 

You look up at him, feeling your heart swell in your chest. “I know. Me too, Min. I love you. You’re mine. I want to stay with you forever.” 

He smiles. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” 

You stay like that for a minute, just breathing, until Minho squeezes your hand, helping you up on your feet. He wants to help you clean up and feel good before you go to sleep. Holding your hand, he guides you towards the bathroom. Only then do you realize something and laugh.

“If we could hear them so well… Do you think our neighbors heard us?” 

Minho laughs. “Definitely.” 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

this was much longer than I thought it would be... but there it is! I had so much fun writing this I hope you will like it! please share your thoughts with me if you want ♡ reblogs and feedback is much appreciated!! ♡

↻ taglist: @lix-ables (just write if you want to be added!)

[moonlightazriel]

The truth about you /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Azriel knew everything about her and her family filled with criminals, or that's what he thought, what if the truth was different from what he have heard?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and a bit of smut.

Word Count: 2,9K

Notes: I think I'm slowly finding my way back into writing and it feels so good, this has been sitting on my drafts for a while but still needed to finish it, but here we are. I'm feeling better and thank you for all the patience and support.

Main Masterlist

“I have a mission for you.” These were the words that led him there, the task was simple, receive a package, and take back to the House of Wind. The problem? The package came in the form of a beautiful woman, with dark hair reaching her waistline, cunning brown eyes, and too much attitude.

She kept looking around Velaris all the way until he should fly her to the House, stating that she never saw such a beautiful place before, and would be a nice place to stay for a while. Azriel admired her figure as they walked, she was just a few inches shorter than him and her clothes were a bit too tight on her curvy body.

The stranger also smelled really nice as he pulled her closer, bringing her up and flying towards the balcony of the House of Wind, where Rhys was waiting for them. She clung to him but took the flying adrenaline incredibly well for someone wingless. He smirked at that, liking how she wasn’t afraid of falling to the city below.

Whowever, his hopes of even becoming her friend vanished as Rhysand opened his mouth, greeting her with a rather cheerful “Y/N Caidan, what a pleasure to meet you.” The only daughter of Eldar Caidan, a very wanted man on the Illyrian Steppes for numerous crimes. He felt disgusted, wanting to get as far as he could from her. That was the beginning of his torment.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She moved her hips as she walked, knowing that this drove him mad and his eyes were glued to her back as they made their way to Rhysand’s office, she could hear the annoyed huffs he let out, so used to them in the two years they’d been working together. Azriel wasn’t easy to deal with, especially with the unpleasant side he reserved especially for her.

Three knocks and Rhys shouted that they could come in, dropping the papers containing sensitive information on the dark wooden desk, she sat, legs crossed as she stretched her back, feeling her sore muscles ache from all the effort.

“As you asked Rhys, everything about those secret Illyrian reunions.” He looked at her, his eyes stopping at the fading purple marks around her eyes, behind her Azriel stood, silent as the dead.

“You two are a great duo, despite everything, thank you. You two can go and rest.” She nodded, walking out of the office and heading to her house in the town, all she could think was about the warm bath that she would take later. 

“I don’t want to question your judgment, but why do you trust her, Rhys? Especially with this kind of mission.” He spoke, his throat dry as he barely used his voice in the week they’d been together on a mission.

“Because she’s good at what she does and she’s a good person.” Rhys spoke dryly, tired of this same conversation, this have been happening for the past two years without a break. Azriel had to stop the urge to roll his eyes at the answer.

“A good person that came from a family of criminals.” He knew he sounded like a whining kid but it wasn’t possible that he was the only one in his right mind that didn’t trust her, her family invaded Illyrian camps for years, murdering the females. Azriel had come to the camps a couple of times, blood everywhere, clothes sliced, and the smell of fear mixed with panic, and a scent so familiar the one lingering on her every damned time. If he closed his eyes, he could still see and smell the fresh blood. What made his blood run even colder was that they never left bodies behind, Mother knows what those monsters did with them.

“We cannot judge a child for the mistakes of their parents, can we?” It stung, cuz he knew that Rhysand was right, but he still couldn’t let his guard down around her, he knew that she was planning something, he just needed to figure it out.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How was the mission?” Morrigan asked, sipping on her glass of wine, while Y/N finished with the charcuterie board she was making for the two.

“Good, got everything that I needed, Azriel just made my life extremely difficult but I’m used to it by now.” She took a bite from a piece of cheese, took the board, and headed for the tiny balcony adorned with little lights and a great view of the Sidra, the soft summer breeze made her shiver a little but she sat down, with Mor following her closely.

“Maybe you should just tell him, I know he will understand.” She scoffed.

“Mor, are we talking about the same person? Azriel won’t understand, he won’t even listen to me. And I don’t want to share my story with him, if he doesn’t trust me, I don’t have any reasons to tell him. He can discover on his own if he wants to find the truth so bad.” Mor lifted her hands in surrender while Y/N took a long sip from her wine. “But at least I don’t mind looking at his pretty face.” Morrigan laughed. 

“Don’t even tell me, the Mother took her time making that one, and I don’t even like men.” The two laughed. 

“Morrigan, things got dirty and he headed to a lake to clean himself, I almost drowned in my drool as I watched the water run down those abs, he’s truly beautiful, such a shame he’s an asshole.” She gave Y/N a severe look.

“Even if I don’t agree, Azriel has been through a lot, he just doesn’t trust people easily, and with the outlaw fame your family has, he’s just waiting for the betrayal, once he sees that things aren’t always as they seem, you will see that he’s such a gentle and kind male, he has a good heart.” 

“I know Mor, it’s just…. I’m tired of being judged and treated like a monster, he treats me so badly, he always questions my abilities and makes me feel like I’m less worth it, that I’m inferior to everyone.” Mor placed a warm hand on her knee.

“I’ll have another talk with him, he can hate you all he wants, but he won’t treat you like this.” Y/N smiled at her,  feeling her heart warm at the thoughtful words of her best friend. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You hit like a girl.” Nesta teased and Y/N rolled her eyes, she aimed for Nesta’s right side, where she quickly went to defend but she turned the other way, hitting her left side, making the oldest Archeron gasp for air.

“Thanks!” She offered a hand to Nesta, which she gladly took, and the two headed to the water station on the other side of the ring, the sun was at its highest in the sky, making the temperature almost unbearable, only the girls were training today, so there was a lot of skin showing around that balcony.

She saw the shadows from the corner of her eyes before she saw the Shadowsinger, when she turned, he looked slightly paler, eyes wide and looking like he had seen a ghost, her skin felt uncomfortable under his gaze, still fixed on her, she quickly removed the tie from her hair, letting it fall behind her, hiding her exposed back as she darted out of the room. 

“Cassian’s looking for you.” He managed to say, her smell still fresh in the air, and the image of her exposed back still replaying in his mind, two big scars marking each side of her shoulder blades, in the same place Illyrian wings should be. He turned on his heels, ready to follow after her, but Nesta stopped him.

“Azriel, don’t.” She warned him, her fingertips were cold against his skin, and he knew that he should let that go, for now.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The image of her scarred back didn’t leave his mind for days, and ever since he saw her, she’s been avoiding him, every time she sees him entering a room, her expression changes and she leaves immediately, this pissed him off a bit. But as much as he wanted to ask about it, he knew that he shouldn’t push her into answering, he would have to find it on his own.

Then, he was reminded why he didn’t trust her in the first place, as she poked her head outside Rhysand’s office, looking both sides and only stepping out when she was sure no one was around, a pile of papers clutched to her chest. A chill in his spine told him he needed to follow her and get to the bottom of his suspicions. 

It was nightfall when she emerged out of her room, her leathers and weapons in place, her hair in a bun, she moved quietly, and as she passed by him, he could see that she had the reports on the northern camp that was supposed to receive new females in a few days, the papers tucked on the bag strapped around her torso. His blood ran cold as he understood what was happening.

She would take the information to her family and they would execute the females, he knew he had to stop her, but would be better if he stopped all of them at once. So he quietly followed her, for days, only stopping in an inn, she had taken a room and he was currently drinking some wine and eating the food offered there, regaining the energy to do what he had to.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N watched from the top of the stairs as her brother and cousin dragged the spymaster’s body with them, a lazy smirk on her lips as she thanked the innkeeper for helping her, a bag of gold coins dropped on the counter and she was on her way, to her family’s secret war camp. 

“I’ll take care of him now.” She said as they all reached Miramaris, her family war camp. Azriel was still asleep as the males placed him in the chair, chaining him so he wouldn’t try to escape before she could explain.

Y/n watched him throughout the night, not even once looking away from him, she ran a hand through his soft hair, sighing as she stretched her part of the bond until it hit the emptiness on the other side as it hadn’t snapped for him yet. She had known he was her mate for about two months now.

A late night travel to the library, where he was also reading, it only took one look in her direction, him scoffing and getting up to leave for the bond to snap, leaving her astonished and stuck in the same place for a couple of minutes, wondering what teh hell would she do.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

His head hurt and everything felt dizzy, he didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he could tell the walls were made of stone, people walked outside and he could hear the sound of metal against metal like someone was training. His hands were restrained by chains and the was a soft light on top of his head.

The steps grew closer to his cell, the heavy door swung open and three males walked in, and behind them Y/N was smiling, approaching him.

“See that you met my family, quite nice people, don’t you think?” He scoffed.

“If you think murdering people is a nice thing, then sure, amazing people.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. He eyed Eldar and the other males with pure hatred, fighting against the chains, he tried to call for Rhysand but his mind was still too foggy to reach so far.

“He still thinks that’s what we do?” The older male asked and smiled. “Rhys will be quite disappointed that you think he would let us walk freely if we were really murdering these females.”

“Dad, let me do the talking, I’m used to the pretty frown by now.” His heart fluttered as the word pretty left her lips. “Maybe bring some food, chicken with mashed potatoes is his favorite.” Again, his heart beat faster as she spoke, does she really pay attention to him like that? Eldar nodded, patting his daughter on the head, he could see the love in the gaze he directed to her, at least he loved his daughter, he wasn’t a complete monster.

“I don’t want anything from you.” He spat, and she walked closer, lowering her body until they were facing eye to eye.

“And here I was, ready to give the only thing you’ve been wanting from me ever since we met.” He cursed as his traitorous mind wandered to where his darkest thoughts hid in his mind, the images that would come late at night when he was alone, of her, splayed open to him, soaking cunt as he readied himself to take her how he wanted, the number of times he touched himself thinking about her, he didn’t trust her in the slightest, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find her attractive.

Truth be told, he still thought about her, and her body drove him mad, usually after training he would rush to his room to take a cold shower to stop his furious hormones from making him walk to her room and do all the dirty things he wanted to do to her. The fact that he was head over heels for her only angered him more.

“I grew up in a very traditional Illyrian family, but you see, my grandfather used to think that clipping wasn’t enough, removing a female’s wings was the way to go for him.” Her hands grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting above her head, the laced black bra was hard not to look at, but his throat went dry as she turned her back to him, the scars were even uglier up close and he felt his heart clenched on his chest. “ My father only had enough courage to leave when he came home one day, he found my grandfather placing a new piece of decoration in the living room.” He knew what it was, but it didn’t hurt less as the words left her mouth. “My wings, so tiny, I was just a child. From that day, he swore no female would ever go through something like that again.” 

She turned to him again, shirt going back to place, as their eyes met, hers were filled with tears. 

“Do you wish to see our work?” He nodded and she motioned for him to follow but he shook his hands and she remembered about the chains. “Right, you’re cuffed. Would love to see you chained somewhere else but we don’t have time for that now.” The words sent a rush of blood straight to his cock.

He followed her, the mountain was warm, and as they walked around, he spotted hundreds of females, some training, some doing chores, but all of them were undeniably happy as they walked around with their wings held proudly behind them. 

“Welcome to Miramaris.” She gestured to the open space. “We raid the camps, and we forge the scene, they don’t bother looking for them anyway. Started with small cabins and barely any resources, but as Rhys’s father learned about this place, he helped us, he was a disgusting man but even he knew this was wrong, Rhys kept helping us after, and he invited me to work with him closely after I've been targeted by a rival camp, he saved my life, and he knows what we’re doing. We’re not the monsters here Az.”

He felt bad for all this time he judged her without even bothering to learn the truth about her. They were looking to an open field, some females were bathing in a lake that crossed the mountain. There were hundreds of them, even children were running around, this place was everything he dreamed for the camps to be. 

“I don’t even know how to apologize to you.” He said honestly.

“Help us save them, the females need me, they need us. You can come with me as my partner… “Nothing would’ve prepared him for the words that left her mouth next. “As my mate!”

“Your what?” He looked at her incredulously. 

“That night in the library? Where I found you in your cute pajamas?” The memory came back to him and he nodded. “ It was when it snapped for me, decided to tell you cuz you know the truth now and I would like to be told if it was the other way around.” He nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the information he received in a short amount of time. “You don’t have to say anything, but if you’re willing to give this a try, meet me tomorrow night right here, we have more females to save.” She said, turning her back to him and walking away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He saw her before she saw him, and as he watched her frame lean against the wall, dressed all in black and looking around expectantly, he felt, the bond making itself known for him, he could feel her on the other side, waiting for him with a warm heart filled with love, love for him.

“You came.” She smiled. Her eyes glowing with emotion as she felt a wave of feeling flooding her chest and as she reached for the other side of the bond, Azriel was there, waiting for her with open arms. 

“I would never let my mate go alone, never again.” He pulled her close, hand wrapped around her waist as he kissed her, her soft lips made him feel at home as she kissed him back. “Let’s go and rescue them.” He said, grabbing her in his arms, she let out an excited squeal as he leaped to the sky, taking her with him. 

[nightmares--child]

SLEEP HABITS

NAME: Terry.

RESIDENCE: Camp Hammond.

TYPE OF BED: a military bunk.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: one.

NUMBER OF PILLOWS: one.

TYPE OF CLOTHING: smalls.

DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY?: he's never tried.

DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY?: they don't know.

DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP?: yes, he prefers a bed.

WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP?: pace his room. 

FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES: wandering the library of dreams, his dream chambers.

DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS: deep sleep, like the dead.

WHEN DO THEY SLEEP: 10pm-5am, extremely regulated.

WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP: physical touch, loud noises, telepathic communication.

EARLY OR LATE RISER: early riser.

tagged by :: @the-shattered-seas

[lady-ashfade]

Lord Of The Tides

Yan!One-Eyed!Lucerys Velaryon x Niece!Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ the best girl @madame-fear requested this from me and I love the way her mind works. She’s my wife- so I hope I make her happy with this one.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 3k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: targ’cest, lucerys being a bit different because he’s older, he also losses a eye, yandere behavior, slight dark themes, and slight mature themes (sexual), but no smut, and if there is a mistake about him having two eyes—Shh.

“were you scared?” the spoon in your hand scratched the bottom of the cup in your hand, and the sound of your heels clinking on the floor boards below were soft but could be heard around the room. even if it was only the two of you, the room was full in your eyes. “greatly. I was young and naive but I loved my brother, but I was too slow to reach towards the knife. Aemond had me beat in length, and that’s how,” his fingers moved upward to the black patch on his eye. He didn’t look ashamed of it like he did all thoses years ago before you were born, his body grew and so did his mind.

“I remember the story sounding much more…action packed as a child. Don’t get me wrong, uncle, you are the bravest man I ever met,” his chest filled with pride as the words fell from your dusted pink lips, “but I do recall you saying you road in on a dragon?” The sly smile on your cheeks was the only thing he recognized about you now. It’s been a few years since he had seen you, or took notice really. he was trying to fulfill his duty to study on how to be the next “lord of the tides” and he took it seriously.

glancing upon you now for the first time in years, he could see the beautiful woman you’ve became. perfect body that filled out your dress perfectly while showing just the right amount of skin but enough to leave any eyes yarning for more. you had matured more then well. In this moment he couldn’t pull his eye away from you, he was desperate to look at you for as long as he could. you were magnificent. “Would that enthrall you?” his teasing tone and brow arch made you flush in embarrassment.

“Would make the story a lot better, uncle.” you raise the cup to your lips and took a quiet sip while holding eye contact with him. the few seconds of silence had your stomach tingling and blood pumping faster. there was no secret from a young age you had a crush on your kind uncle. He had given you attention and made you laugh while teaching you stories and knowledge. It was just a silly crush that had you staying up late at night thinking of his smile years later.

“I suppose your right.” he broke eye contact to chuckle and lean forward to grab a soft pastry from the table. “Tell me, what has it been like while I was away? Has my brother learned anything about being future king?” His tone was off. Almost sounding as if he was belittling your father, or making fun of him. You stood up straight and place the glass down on its plate.

“My father has been doing a great job. Our queen is training him well, or do you doubt your own mother?” his body stopped in time for a second with half his lips wrapped around the sugared sweet to stare at you. he couldn’t believe how fast you acted to defend your father and tried to make a fool out of himself. the look behind your eyes and the smile tugging at your lips he could tell you meant no true harm. only to play a little game.

“You have changed,” he tone shifted as his eye made sure to run its way up and down your body, making you squirm in your chair. “No longer a girl but a lady.” you hated how easy it was to feel drawn into him again. it was different now then it was back then, you had aches and desire only the dead of night could see and he was making it so hard to control them. “I was pleased when I got your letter even if I had little time to prepare for it. But there is one question on my mind: why?” the truth wasn’t something you could tell him in that moment. So you settled for something easy, and nothing like the full picture.

“I missed you. Castle life is wonderful, but you always showed me the fun of things.”

each day that went by he was drawn in closer by you, from your smell, to your smile, to the sound of your laugh that he caused. he tried to deny himself from the thought of you but you were already hammered into his mind once he saw you getting off your dragon merely days ago. It’s been a long while since he saw beauty like you, your intelligence mind and wit, or your able to be naive in hopes of a better world. the strength to hold himself back when you were just a few inches away from him was great. he wanted to hold you, to touch your soft kiss…to whisper into your ear—

“I don’t understand,” the sound of you voice awakened him from his day dreaming. you had not noticed his staring from being turned away from him. “This game is incredibly stupid.” the mallet in your hands swung a bit as you exhaled frustratingly. the colored balls scattered around the ground, non of them close to being where his were.

“I think you wanted me to fail,” you pouted you lips at the tall man. “It’s not my fault your losing my dear,” the nickname made your body clinch, “if you had listened to me-” the words shouting from your mouth interrupted him.

“I have been listening to you. But you’re somehow cheating.” it made him unbelievably amused to watch you huff and pout at losing a game you forced him to teach you. if he could, he’d steal that pout away from your lips and make you whine about something else. “Are you accusing me of something?” He leaned his arms on the mallet but leaning on his leg to stare at you with scrunched brows. you took a moment to find something to say but only muffled and gagged words came from your lips before you eventually gave up.  “No uncle, forgive me for my temperament.” You looked down at the yellow ball and glared down at it.

“It’s just utterly frustrating to loss when you’re already so far ahead of me,” you glanced back up and pointed to his, “I don’t like losing.” that was something you gained from both your parents if he was honest. jace never liked to lose a game or training, and your mother had a shorter temper he could only imagine how you’d act when you get heated. “Then we should keep playing until your good.” he turned back to hit the blue ball at his feet and cheers when he gets it through the metal bars. gods, he was going to kill you with his handsome smile.

It was heart wrenching to see his smile fade and his body tense days later, with his hand resting on the stone railing. it was a perfect day, the time you spent with him was still unmatched by the way he made you feel. the sun shining orange across the sky and bouncing off the both of you, making the other even more breathtaking to each other.

“What?” his voice rasped and dropped darker then you have heard it before. all ounce of happiness left his body and started to over flow with growing anger. “For how long?” the raise volume to his voice make you look down in guilt for some reason. he was mad at you for not telling him…but for reasons you did not know of. “Two months. Before I came he was set to stay in kindslanding to find our ground with one another,” you played with you finger tips. he took a deep breathe to stop himself from shouting at you any further. his sweet girl knew nothing of the pain it caused him to hear those words. to find out she was in fact not his.

“He’s sweet, and kind. A perfect match for the realm,” you look up at the orange sunset and feel the aching in your heart grow, “we are to be wed in three months.” grabbing the long glass of wine from beside you and bringing it up to your lips to take a big sip. you needed to drown out the doubts and fears you had somehow. lucerys fist tightened at the thought of another having you be their bride, to get to kiss you and share your bed every night. he was lord of the tides, he had the best fleet and army at sea, he could protect you, love you like you deserve- but this man got it just on a whim?

you are more precious to be sold for some on going alliance with a household- you deserved a prince.

“But,” you start again with hesitation and force yourself away from his eyes, “he is not the one I long for. Yes, he would be a good and faithful husband but my heart does not long for him.” the title belonged to the man you stood beside, the man who made your soul burn blighter. he stepped forward and your breath hitched and couldn’t keep your eyes away from him. the eyepatch on his face never made you fear him, not even once did the stories make you feel any less for him.

“Who does it long for?” He fell hushed as he stood even closer to you now, your bodies almost touching and you could almost feel the heat coming from him. you wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to belong to him- to marry him. but it was not to be so, your duty as the princess is to care for the kingdom the best you can and that is for your betrothal to the lord you barley knew to work. and not to the man you loved.

clearing your throat you step back away from him and force a smile your face. you clearly were imagining things and he was not pursuing your fantasies, or his own. “A chat for another time perhaps, it’s getting quite late wouldn’t you say? I need a good nights sleep for my travels tomorrow.” he had forgotten all about you leaving. time slips away with you here. how could he bring himself to part ways now after everything you brought him?

“Then I shall fair you goodnight,” before you could pull away his body moves forwards and his lips pressed against the hairline of your forehead. it was a few seconds long but the feeling made you overwhelmed in shock, you froze up. pulling away from you he took notice of your reaction and how tense you became, “slept well, my dear” he walked away with a curled smile towards his cheeks and leaving you standing there alone.

that night you toasted and turned in your sheets thinking of how his lips felt on your skin and your brain started to wander. how would it feel for him to kiss down your shoulder, or you lips and down your chest in his chambers at night. he had no wife to warm his bed, surely he must be lonely? but a man like him was definitely no stranger to the feeling of a lovers touch and you knew that for sure. the thoughts you had that night made you feel embarrassed to see him the next morning when you woke from the vivid dream you had.

you fixed your glove over your hands and made sure everything you need is tied on tight to your dragon. she squirms beneath your touch and if she could purr like a cat you know she would. lurcerys appreciates you carefully as your attention was not on him, he liked to see your face in shock because he found it adorable. “Leaving without a goodbye?” to his pleasure he was right. when you turned around at his voice spooked like a horse.

“I wasn’t sure you’d have time, it’s early.” you shifted awkwardly and covered yourself. he hummed along and walked closer and then inches by you. he stops before the scales of your dragon and slowly guides his palm over repeatedly along her body, makes her happy like it was you. even she enjoyed his company, much like her rider. “I’m sorry, I did not know how to say goodbye.” admitting the truth was harder once it was out for some reason. you didn’t want to look like a girl despite in love.

“This isn’t a goodbye, we will see each other again.” he gave one last pat and turned to face you again. he stood with his hands clasped together, his black outfit with golden accents shining in the morning sun, his dark brown hair reflecting just like the gold.

“I’m sure of it.”

Lucerys Velaryon was many things. a prince, a lord, a brave soldier trained, and powerful man with connections everywhere. he could pay his way through the slums and have anything he wanted done at the snap of his fingers. he never wished to see you in tears or upset, really, but that’s the way things happened. to even think of letting you suffer a marriage to— anyone but him was a taste worse then the gods could give. and it was tragic how the lord just ended up dead a few days later from being poisoned by one of his own cooks. he died in his mothers arms and his heart felt sorrow for her and only her.

you came running into his arms after you heard the news since he was the only one you could go to. of course you would, he planned it just right. so he kept you in a tight embrace as you cried into his chest while stoking your hair and whispering everything was going to be fine and you were too distraught to say anything. “just breathe sweet girl,” he whispered into your ear. you grabbed ahold of him and tried to calm your breathing but the hiccups messed you up. he hated seeing you like this but was overjoyed at the same time. he was with you, you were his now.

“I’m scared,” you sobbed as more tears rolled down your already damp cheeks, “he was kind- the next man might not be the same. I don’t want to be a miserable wife,” naive little you to think he’d ever let that happen.

“look at me,” he commanded but not harshly. his hands cupped the skin of your jaw and cheek to guide your face up to him. even now you looked as stunning as ever. “I’d never let you be miserable, you are too special,” his thumb traced shapes into your skin. he looked into your puffy eyes and drank them in, you looked so innocent and in need of his protection. and he loved that. “I shall confess I find myself thinking of you since you first arrived in driftmark as a new woman.” he watched your eyes widen in anticipation and surprise.

“my heart longs for you and only you. the minute you come the place lit up and worked smoothly with you around. driftmart needs a lady, I need someone by my side that is wise and has a soft approach.” your brain fogs up as he leans down near your face like he was going to kiss you but stops just before your noses touch. “I’d fill your rooms up with anything you ever ask for, show you love like you’ve never dreamed, or protect you from any harm that comes your way. you know I’m a better choice than the boys competing for your hand.” you hear the slight venom in his voice towards the mentions of other lords.

“my father, what would he say?” you whisper and he could feel your breath making him hold himself back. “I’m in need of a wife, he’s daughter is a reasonable gift. He knows I’d never mistreat you,” the other hand grabs ahold your waist and moves his hands up and down your dress making you shiver. “come on, sweet girl. say yes.” a simple nod of your head was enough of a answer for him to finally capture your lips like he had been waiting for. you felt so warm pressed up against him it made him feral inside.

the warmth inside became like a explosion when he kissed you, the way he’s holding onto you so tight and against him, his short breaths and gasp for air, the hunger makes you sore and aching for everything he had. he wanted to give you it all, but he couldn’t. not until he put a ring on your finger and that pained him. the hormones in his body were at its peak now.

slightly tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth he pulled away slowly with a husky growl. he held your hips in place to stop you from trying to get more. he listens to you pant while doing the same thing himself. you smiled up at him, “I’ve always wanted you to be mine,” you say blinking your eyes up at him teasingly, “I don’t think I can ever belong to another.”

his chest rumbles in soft laughter. “About my brother— I’ll make him see we belong together, he raised you well so he knows just how much I need you.” he was so good a flattering. you roll your eyes playfully at him, “you have honeyed words, my betrothed.” you needed no acceptance from your father. you’d run back to dragon stone and wed Lusercys there. you couldn’t be pulled away from him after this.

“Because you get the cutest look on your face, you haven’t been as secretive about your feelings towards me. Should we talk about the time you practically bursted into flames when you knocked yourself onto me?”

“You stoop so low, my lord.”

[xxspringmelodyxx]

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒢𝒾𝓇𝓁𝓈 𝒜 𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓇~

⊱ 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔! 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚! 𝑨𝒍𝒔𝒐, 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐! 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍⊰

⊱ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Warnings: None⋆☾✩⁺₊✩ wc: 3.3k

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿

Satoru ran through the campus, his heart pounding in his chest as the rain soaked through his clothes. The storm overhead mirrored the turmoil within him, each raindrop a testament to the regret and determination fueling his every step. He had to find you. He had to make things right.

The rain continued to pour, blurring his vision, but he didn't stop. His breath came in ragged gasps, the cold seeping into his bones. All he could think about was finding you, explaining everything, and begging for your forgiveness. His mind raced with thoughts of what he would say, how he could make you understand the depth of his remorse. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the burden of his guilt.

Meanwhile, you sat by the window in your room, watching the rain fall. The rhythmic patter against the glass was a painful reminder of the storm raging inside you. Your heart felt heavy, burdened by betrayal and confusion. You had hoped for so much with Satoru, but now everything seemed shattered beyond repair. Tears streamed steadily down your face; each drop a testament to the pain you felt.

Memories of happier times flooded your mind—moments when Satoru’s smile could light up your day, when his touch brought comfort and warmth. Now, those memories were tinged with sorrow and regret. How could things have gone so wrong? How could he have not known that you were head over heels for him? You replayed the events in your mind, trying to find where everything had fallen apart. Maybe it was your fault for not telling him sooner. Maybe this was a sign from the universe that you two shouldn’t be together. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t control how you felt, nor how he interpreted your actions.

Your thoughts drifted back to the moments when you had noticed Satoru’s distant behavior, the way he started hanging out with Aksana more often than not. You had brushed it off, thinking he was just trying to be nice to her. But now, in hindsight, you realized those were signs of something deeper. You wondered if there was anything you could have done to prevent this, to make him see the truth. The uncertainty gnawed at you, adding to your overwhelming sense of loss.

As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressed down on you. You felt a mixture of anger, sadness, and a deep sense of loss. The betrayal you felt was overwhelming, and yet, beneath it all, there was a flicker of hope. A part of you wanted to believe that Satoru would come to his senses, that he would realize the mistake he had made and come to you with a heartfelt apology. But another part of you feared that things had been irreparably damaged.

Satoru stumbled slightly, his foot slipping on the wet pavement, but he caught himself and continued running. The cold rain stung his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was consumed with thoughts of you—your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you were happy. He had taken all of that for granted, and now he feared he had lost it forever. The thought of losing you felt like a physical pain, a deep ache in his chest that drove him forward.

As he ran, he thought about the first time he realized he had feelings for you. It was a simple moment, nothing extraordinary, but it had changed everything for him. You had been laughing at something silly he had said, and in that moment, he knew he wanted to be the reason for your laughter, your happiness. He had been too afraid to tell you then, and that fear had only grown over time, turning into jealousy and insecurity once he saw you hanging out more with Kai. He cursed himself for not having the courage to be honest from the start.

The rain began to let up slightly, but the sky remained dark and foreboding. Satoru’s mind flashed to the last conversation he had with you before everything went wrong. He had been distant, cold even, and you had looked so hurt and confused. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so cruel as to try and make you jealous? He had wanted to reach out to you, to explain everything, but his pride and fear had held him back. Now, he wished more than anything that he could take back those moments and do things differently.

You stood up from the window and walked over to your bed, sitting down heavily. The room felt cold and empty, reflecting the emptiness you felt inside. You picked up a photo frame from your bedside table, a picture of you and Satoru taken during happier times. You traced his smiling face with your finger, tears welling up in your eyes again. How had everything gone so wrong? The image felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost.

As you sat there, lost in thought, the sound of the rain began to fade, replaced by the distant rumble of thunder. You hugged the photo frame to your chest, wishing that you could turn back time and fix everything. But you knew that was impossible. The only thing you could do now was wait and see if Satoru would come to you, if he would try to make things right.

Satoru finally reached your building, his heart pounding even harder now. He stood outside for a moment, catching his breath and trying to gather his thoughts. He knew this was it—the moment that would determine whether he could fix the mess he had created. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and made his way to your room.

The hallways were eerily quiet, the only sound the faint dripping of water from his clothes. His mind raced with the words he needed to say, the apology he needed to make. He knew he couldn’t afford to mess this up. He had to make you understand how deeply sorry he was, how much he loved you. Each step he took echoed with the weight of his guilt, a constant reminder of how badly he had screwed things up.

As he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle. The fear of rejection gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. He had come this far, and he couldn’t turn back now. With a shaky breath, he knocked on the door, each rap of his knuckles echoing through the silent hallway.

Inside, you froze at the sound, your heart leaping into your throat. You wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but the tears continued to fall. Reluctantly, you stood and walked over, opening the door to find Satoru standing there, drenched and breathless. His eyes were filled with a mix of desperation and hope, his expression a mirror of your own anguish.

Seeing your tear-streaked face and the heartbreak in your eyes, Satoru felt his heart shatter. He had seen you upset before, but never like this. The depth of your pain was a reflection of his own mistakes, and it tore at him in a way he had never experienced. He had done this to you, the person he cared about most in the world, and the realization hit him like a physical blow.

“Y/n…” he began, his voice trembling with emotion.

I looked away from him, fearing I would break down if I looked into his eyes any longer. The sight of him, drenched and desperate, only intensified the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I couldn't bear to see the regret in his eyes, knowing how deeply he had hurt me.

“Please, can we talk?” he continued, his voice breaking. The desperation in his tone was palpable, but it did little to soothe the storm of anger and hurt raging within me.

“No. Leave me alone,” I said, trying to slam the door shut.

Satoru quickly placed his hand on the door, stopping it from closing. “Y/n, please,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just hear me out.”

You stared at him, your heart aching at the sight of his disheveled state. His presence, usually a source of comfort, now only brought more pain. “What is there to talk about, Satoru?” you asked, your voice breaking. “You made your choice. You chose Aksana.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he pleaded, stepping closer. The sight of your tears was almost too much to bear, but he knew he had to press on.

“Understand what?” you snapped, your voice rising with every word. “Understand that you broke my heart? That you played with my feelings? Every time I saw you with her, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

Satoru’s face crumpled, his own tears mixing with the rain. “I do, Y/n. I really do,” he began, stepping closer. “I know I messed up. And I messed up badly. I know I hurt you. But I swear, it wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

You shook your head, taking a step back. “How can you say that? How can you say you cared when you did everything to show the opposite? You let me believe you loved her. You let me suffer, thinking I had lost you to her.”

He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. “I thought you and Kai were together,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret. “I thought you had chosen him over me. I was jealous and hurt, and I did something idiotic. I asked Aksana to the dance to make you feel the pain I felt. I now realize just how horrible that was.”

You took another step back, the realization of his words hitting you hard. Anger and disbelief mingled with your sadness. “You thought… you thought I was with Kai?” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes again.

He nodded. “Yeah…but he explained everything to me… About how you were just trying to help him get with Amai.” He said, looking away, pissed at himself. “I was so stupid,” Satoru replied, his voice trembling. “I thought that by making you jealous, I could force you to show your feelings for me.”

“And what did you think would happen?” you demanded, the anger bubbling up inside you. “Did you think I would just fall into your arms after seeing you with someone else? Did you think I wouldn’t be hurt, that I wouldn’t feel betrayed?”

Satoru shook his head, his tears mingling with the rain. “No, I didn’t think. I didn’t consider your feelings, and that’s my biggest regret. I was so wrapped up in my own jealousy and fear that I couldn’t see how much I was hurting you. Every time I saw you with Kai, it made my heart drop. I thought he had taken you away from me, and I couldn’t bear it.”

“You never gave me a chance to explain,” you said, your voice softening slightly. “You just assumed the worst and acted on it. You let your jealousy and insecurity drive a wedge between us.” I began, looking into his eyes. “Every time I saw you with Aksana, it felt like my heart was being ripped out. I kept hoping, praying that you would come to me, that you would see how much I cared for you. But you didn’t. You just kept pushing me away. It felt like I was losing a part of myself.”

“I know,” Satoru said, his voice barely above a whisper. “All I did was hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that. I never meant to cause you so much pain. It was ignorant and childish. But please know this, Yn…” He began, taking another step to you. “I never loved Aksana. It was always you. It always has been. Please, give me a chance to make things right. I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation there. The storm outside seemed to calm slightly, as if reflecting the tentative peace beginning to form between you. “You really hurt me, Satoru,” you repeated, tears streaming down your face. I looked back up to him, holding his hands, “But I love you too. I have for a long time.”

Satoru stepped forward, his heart pounding with hope. “Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, his voice breaking under the weight of his regret. “I know it’s going to take time, and I know I have to earn your trust back. But please, give me a chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I won’t hurt you again. I promise, Y/n.”

You took a deep breath, your emotions swirling inside you. You knew Satoru had always been one to take things too far, and seeing his regret and desperation made you realize how deeply he truly cared for you. “It’s going to take time, Satoru. But I think… I think we can try to make things right.”

Relief washed over Satoru’s face, and he stepped closer, pulling you into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms around you felt like a balm to your wounded heart. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.”

As you held each other, the storm outside continued to subside, the dark clouds giving way to a sliver of light. It was a small sign of hope, a promise that maybe, just maybe, things could be mended.

In that moment, you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. The sincerity, the love, and the desperation all mixed together, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was filled with all the emotions you had been holding back—anger, hurt, love, and hope.

Satoru responded instantly, his arms tightening around you as he kissed you back with equal fervor. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate embrace, connected by the raw honesty of your feelings. Each second felt like an eternity, yet it also felt like time stood still, allowing you to pour all your emotions into this single, defining moment.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but the storm inside you had calmed. You smiled up at him, shaking your head as you played with his hair, the familiar gesture bringing a sense of normalcy back into the moment. “You’re such an idiot sometimes, you know that?” you said, a mixture of amusement and affection in your voice, making him chuckle a bit. He looked down at you, holding you close to him, his eyes reflecting the deep love he felt.

“At least now I’m your idiot,” he said, kissing your nose, his touch gentle and affectionate, making you return that beautiful smile he had been longing to see. His expression turned serious as he stared into your eyes, the weight of his next words hanging in the air.

“But I am serious when I say this, Y/n. I love you, and I always have. There wasn’t a moment that passed by where I didn’t think of you. You are my everything, and I promise I will make you see it,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. Each word was a vow, a declaration of the depth of his feelings and his commitment to making things right, making your heart flutter with a mix of emotions.

“I love you too, Toru. And I know you will,” you finished, your voice soft but steady, before kissing him once more, this time more passionately, sealing your promises to each other. A promise to move forward from the pain and build a future together. The warmth of his embrace, the taste of his lips, and the feeling of his heart beating against yours all combined to create a moment of profound

--

After that moment of reconciliation, you and Satoru went to the dance together, showing off your love for one another… right in front of Aksana.

The gymnasium was filled with students, the dim lighting and soft music creating a romantic atmosphere. You held Satoru's hand tightly, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement. As you walked in together, heads turned, and whispers followed. It was clear that your relationship was now public, and the sight of you two together was enough to silence any remaining doubts.

Aksana stood near the entrance, her eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing with a hint of bitterness as she saw you and Satoru enter. You could feel her gaze on you, but you refused to let it affect you. This night was about you and Satoru, about celebrating the love you had fought so hard to reclaim.

Satoru looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and love. “You look stunning,” he whispered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of happiness. “And you look as handsome as always,” you replied, feeling your heart swell with love for him.

As the night went on, you and Satoru danced together, moving to the rhythm of the music. Every touch, every glance, was a testament to the bond you had rebuilt. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, including Aksana’s, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man holding you in his arms, the love that you shared, and the future that lay ahead of you.

During a slow dance, Satoru pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m so glad we worked things out,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“Me too,” you replied, looking into his eyes. “I can’t imagine being here with anyone else.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Neither can I,” he said. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

You nodded, feeling tears of joy well up in your eyes. “Thank you for proving you deserve it,” you whispered back.

As the night continued, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. The pain and uncertainty of the past were behind you, replaced by the promise of a brighter future. And as you danced with Satoru, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Aksana eventually approached you both, a forced smile on her face. “I see you two are back together,” she said, her tone laced with insincerity.

Satoru tightened his grip on your hand, his expression calm but firm. “Yes, we are,” he replied. “And I intend to keep it that way.”

Aksana’s smile faltered, and she nodded slowly. “I wish you both the best,” she said, though her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

“Thank you, Aksana,” you replied, your voice steady. “We appreciate it.” Satoru chided in, giving her a disgusted look.

With that, Aksana walked away, leaving you and Satoru to enjoy the rest of the evening. As the night drew to a close, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the love you had found and the strength you had shown in fighting for it.

Together, you and Satoru stepped out into the cool night air, the stars shining brightly overhead. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “Ready to go home?” he asked softly.

“Absolutely,” you replied, resting your head against his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

And with that, you walked away from the dance, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future held together.

____________

Taglist: @aria143 , @goreedo11

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eight

☁︎ Eris x Healer OC

☁︎ Notes: okay. This is kind of a big one 👀 pls let me know what you think, if the descriptions make sense, etc. I'm really hoping the concept for Aya's powers is actually interesting and not dumb but here we go

I've gotten a lot of notes from new readers lately and I wanna say thanks so much for the love and comments!! 💛💛

☁︎ Warnings: battle/war, injuries, blood, death, grief (it's not that graphic I just wanna make sure I get all the tags needed)

☁︎ Word Count: 3.5k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ Latest Artwork

☁︎ Taglist (let me know if you want on or off) : @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor @secret-third-thing @bookwormysblog @mal-adaptive-dreams @daycourtofficial

The secret behind Aya’s power was the extra eye in her mind. Whether they were simply visions or she had some connection to another place, she did not know. But either way, she was born seeing things that no one else could.

Aya had discovered another world, visible only with closed eyes or when she let her vision go hazy. It was a place where wards and spells were visible things, overlayed on top of reality. She could see the building blocks of the universe, the materials that made up the world. And she could reach out and touch them. They were hers to fix and break and manipulate how she pleased.

After years of observing people and the things that they were made of, she came to understand that they could be sorted into three categories. Sewn things, woven things, and things to be fired in a kiln. The first three people Aya had known were one of each. The first memories to exist in her mind were ingrained with their imagery. Her mother, a tapestry. Her aunt, a quilt. And Thesan, a vase.

It took nearly a decade of life for Aya to understand that no one else saw things the way she did. No one else had another realm materialize when they closed their eyes. No one else healed by patching those quilts, stitching down loose threads, or filling cracks in pottery with veins of shimmering gold.

There were many, many times when she wished that she had never spoken about it to anyone. She could have learned sooner to close her eyes and not let anyone see the golden light that shone when she used her power. She could have taken less time to understand that she was different. Or maybe she could have been born knowing that she was not the same as everyone around her.

But it was too late for any of that. Her life had already been molded by her differences.

In truth, using her power was easy. So easy that it scared her. Sometimes an extensive injury or a complicated spell would draw a sweat from her brow, but even then she could go for days if she wanted to. The store of energy within her seemed endless. She had never experienced burnout, or ever been close.

There were so many terrifying truths lying underneath the lid she kept on herself. Her morbid curiosity, the things she could do, how much she was capable of. She never dug too deep, never once in her life testing the limits or possibilities. She could not bring herself to. She would not let herself become a thing that destroyed.

The fear that others carried around her was tangible. Whispers of witchcraft followed her everywhere - apparently her mother hailing from the continent was suspicious, with less known about the origins of their magic. And Aya's own tapestry was stained with the echoes of her mother calling her a liar, holding deep grudges over the discrimination that Aya had brought upon her family. There was no shortage of things that had made this existence difficult.

But on days like this, no matter how much she hated it, Aya thrived.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The battle had seemed so endless. The shouting, screaming, and clashing of weapons were a constant song, and Aya did her best to tune it out as she ran from bed to bed, cleaning, bandaging, and healing wounds. Her ears rang, desperate for a moment not filled with terrible noise. Her muscles ached, begging for her to take a break. But there were always more buckets to haul, more soldiers to drag to safety, more wounded to heal. She ignored every protest of her tired mind and aching body as she splashed through the mud, dodging arrows and swords, zeroed in on whoever needed helping.

She also ignored the magic within her that sang, thrilled to be used and stretched and tested. It pushed her body to keep going long after she had reached her physical limits, always restless and desperate to be let loose. But she would only ever release as much power as she needed to do her job well. Never any more.

Even still, Aya was always the last standing, the glow of her healing still going steady when all the others had used their last sparks. In class, this earned her jealous looks and accusations of cheating or witchcraft. But of course today, there was nothing but murmured thanks and praise. Aya ignored those, too.

At last, dusk fell like a funeral shroud, covering the silhouettes of broken bodies littering the battlefield. All of the gore blissfully hidden in the darkness. The sky could not, however, hide the sound of suffering and grieving of those who still lived, reaching toward the heavens in desperate tones.

Now, it was an effort to keep her head upright as she sat beside the High Lord of Night, her hand hovering over the gash in his arm. Rhysand, even with his weary eyes and the grime caked into the lines of his skin, watched her heal with a keen interest. If it was a different time, and her heart felt a little lighter, Aya may have asked him about it. Maybe he knew something that she didn’t. But right now it was taking too much focus just to stay awake.

When she closed her eyes Aya was stitching silver stars into a quilt, each block made from a different shade of night. Slightly darker shapes made up the subtle outline of a city, constellations hiding in same-colored thread here and there. It was lovely work, the stars twinkling and shimmering, the night sky velvety soft beneath her fingertips. It did not take long for his arm to be healed. With eyes glittering like the thread she had just held between her fingers, Rhysand thanked her and swaggered off to find his mate.

Truthfully, Aya liked him. Often, she came away from a healing session feeling as though she had read the person's soul front to back like a book. And in Rhysand, she liked what she learned. He was deeply kind, very clever, and generous. She knew without a doubt that his story of Under the Mountain was true. She could see the scars within him, like rips and tears in the quilt that he had tried to fix himself. Some were smoother, aided in their mending by his loved ones. He did not know how lucky he was to have them.

Of course, there were dark patterns in the fabric of his being. Shadows much deeper than others seemed to carry. But that seemed to be a burden bestowed upon all of the High Lords.

Aya liked the Night Court general, too. She had healed Cassian many times over. At first she thought it was recklessness and it was an effort to bite back on her lecture about looking after himself. But she learned, upon closing her eyes, that it was all deliberate. Calculated. It was not carelessness, but devotion. He would take shots and blows for others as often as he could, his shouts and commands ringing out louder than the din of battle. In his mind, he had not done his best unless he was nearly falling apart.

Healing Cassian was like knitting homespun wool yarn. Each stitch snug and precise, marled grey and white like the Illyrian mountains. The colors were so solemn, the material so practical, but the finished product warm and comforting. That seemed to sum him up. He always had a grin and a wink for her, always a genuine thank you and some absurd compliment. He was consistent, always, like the woven pattern of his being.

Over the course of the battle, Aya collected those images, like a scrapbook of the people around her. She mended seams, knit and wove, spun thread, molded clay. Every once in a while, she was too late. The knitting had too many missed stitches, too many loops had come loose and it all unraveled beneath her hands. Every time, she mourned with her whole heart. Grieved until it hurt.

If she kept her eyes closed, tuned into that other realm, she could watch the soul depart this world. Always drifting toward the sky like a wisp of smoke. The first handful of times she had witnessed it she had not been able to look away, frozen in place by some terrifying curiosity. Or perhaps it was the desire to see them off, on the chance that her guidance could provide one last comfort.

But she did not like to watch it anymore. It would show up in her dreams that night without fail, always with her hands reaching and that soul slipping through her fingers despite her efforts. Today, she did not need to give her nightmares any more material to work with.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Aya did not see Eris until the battle was over. The possibility of seeing him here, of seeing the worst, had haunted her every moment since she had arrived with the rest of the healers. She never had the heart to scan the lifeless bodies for his pale, freckled face, but she also feared that she would be the last to know if something had happened to him. There was a long list of people who would take priority first.

It was a strange thing, the aftermath of battle. The air was thick, relief and mourning twining together into something heavy and difficult to breathe. Celebratory laughter and singing clashed with the solemn sounds of funeral rites and grieving songs. Metal clanged as armor and weapons were moved and cleaned, soldiers lay resting wherever they could before the journey home.

Among the chaos, a glint of red captured Aya's attention and she turned to see Eris striding across the field, armor glittering in the sun and that crimson cape billowing behind him. Her breath caught in her throat as he pivoted and his russet eyes locked on hers. The relief was immense, almost painful as she drowned in it.

Even so, she was prepared to see him turn the other way and pretend he hadn't seen her, as he had done at the High Lord's meeting. And she would be content, just knowing he had lived. But he did not look away. Eyes growing wild, he turned on his heel and rushed toward her. He pulled off his gauntlets and let them thump to the ground, hands reaching for her face the moment he was close enough.

"Sparrow," He murmured, turning her head back and forth to look for injuries. He took in her tired eyes, swiping a thumb over the purple bags and lines of dirt. "I was afraid I'd find you here. I'm so glad you're alright."

Aya was speechless, staring up at him with her lips parted as she searched for words. She was still confused, her thoughts snapping back and forth between lingering anger and relief to see him. Her skin burned under his touch, under the eyes of those that watched them as she could practically hear the gossip forming on their tongues.

"I never got to apologize," He said in a rush, his voice hoarse. He paused, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips.

Aya’s head throbbed. She did not have room for this in her mind, today. Not for the memories of their last conversation or for whatever game he was playing now, looking at her like she was the sun when anyone could see and overhear his pet names.

Her mind was still reeling from these last days, trying to process everything she had seen and heard and felt. There had been no room for hesitation and no place for her fear, all anxiety barred from her body so as not to weigh her down. Now the fear and pain rushed back in, like predators reclaiming their territory and she was nothing but a vessel for the conflict, barely holding herself together.

So, Aya let her gaze drop from his eyes and fall to the grass, breathing deeply in an attempt to placate the beasts threatening to tear her apart.

Eris watched, and she missed the understanding dawning on his face as he studied her trembling form. He swallowed the dozens of things he wished to say and put aside his desire to extinguish the nightmare that had haunted him since the High Lord's meeting. Later. He could say it all later.

As her eyes trailed back upwards, they snagged on Eris’s hurt knee, blood dripping between the plates of armor on his leg.

"You're hurt," She said, unable to resist despite her tiredness, "Let me heal you."

"Alright," He was still for a moment as he considered protesting. But right now he'd do anything to lift even a fraction of her burden, so he picked up the gauntlets and followed after her.

She led him to a quiet tent, only a few others inside, resting or bandaging fellow healers. A few heads turned at the Autumn heir, tall and regal. And then their stares flickered to Aya, the black sheep of the Dawn Court leading the way for him. She ignored them, as she was developing quite the talent for.

"Sit," She murmured, scurrying to find a clean rag.

Eris obeyed, sitting on the edge of a cot and removing the armor from his leg to reveal his bloody knee. He watched her trembling hands, chest aching as he imagined what she may have been through. The memories of his first battle had stayed sharp through the centuries, the desolation still so heavy after all this time.

"Aya," He said when she’d returned, keeping his voice soft.

Taking the supplies from her hands and setting them aside, he reached out and took her shaking fingers in his, gently pulling her in to stand between his knees. He rubbed his thumbs over her icy knuckles, grimacing at the dried blood under her fingernails. His power was nearing the dregs, but he still willed a bit of heat to the surface to warm her skin.

She looked up at him, such sorrow in her grey eyes, and when her chin wobbled, it broke him. Aya was strong and brave and could do whatever she put her mind to. But he would still choose to keep her away from this place, too full of death and hurt and blood.

"You did well, today," He whispered.

They stayed like that for a long moment, Aya standing in the shelter of his body, absorbing his heat and all the comfort he tried to emanate. This time as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, Eris's warmth began to wash away the terrible things she had seen. The ways she had failed. The lives that had slipped into the afterlife while she had no choice but to watch.

The burlap tent dimmed the sunshine, beams of light sneaking through ripped holes in the fabric to dapple Eris’s skin. Between those golden spots and his whiskey-brown-sugar scent, Aya could almost pretend they were somewhere else, under the canopy of the Autumn forest.

"Thank you," She murmured. Her eyes fluttered open and Eris let out a breath, relieved at the return of the steadiness he'd grown used to.

Heaving a deep sigh, Aya grabbed a cloth and began to wipe the blood from his skin. With the tender moment passed, the silence between them was heavy, charged with unsaid things. It did not help that the air was filled with the tang of blood and the cries of the injured.

Aya tossed the bloody rag into a bucket and closed her eyes once more.

Through the darkness, shapes began to emerge, that other world coming into view. Searching for his essence, she found the woven texture of Eris's tapestry. It appeared before her in all its loveliness - a gorgeous scene of Autumn woods, adorned with thread that shone like rubies. She had seen it a dozen times by now, but she was always captivated by it's beauty. By the secrets hiding between the threads.

She desperately wished to know the meaning of all of them. The hounds and the maple leaves were clear enough, but what of the birds and the chess pieces and the interlocking pattern cleverly hidden in the leaves of the trees? There were stories in all of them, pieces that made Eris who he was. Her hunger to know them had never lessened, and she was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

The section that needed fixing was interlaced with gold, and Aya found herself already equipped with a length of gold thread, wrapped around her forefinger like it was a spool.

She went to work, filling the gaps in the images and stitching down loose threads. Her magic eagerly rushed to the surface, still energized and ready. Its endlessness reminded her of the time of daily faebane doses to keep her powers from being revealed to Amarantha. The memory was bitter on her tongue, the horrid taste of faebane like a vengeful ghost.

At least now, she did not have to rush. There were no rows of beds waiting for her help. It was just Eris, patient and calm and not in any danger.

There was just enough golden thread around her finger to finish the job. But as she tried to find the end of the spool and tie off her work, she found it had wrapped in a loop in the exact place her golden band should be. Pulling on the string revealed it to be as unmoving as Edana's ring, as if it were attached to her skin. Aya tugged her hand back but the thread pulled tight, attaching her to Eris’s tapestry.

Again, she pulled, but it did not budge. A pulse traveled back down it, sending a tingling feeling through her hand, as if the tapestry had tugged back.

What was this? This was like no healing she’d ever experienced. Once more, Aya yanked as hard as she could, and heard Eris make a choking sound in front of her.

Her eyes snapped open. She was met with the image of Eris, his brows furrowed in confusion, a hand resting on his armored chest. Aya's heart stuttered, her throat closing with her rising panic. Time seemed to slow to a stop, and through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard his heartbeat. Her own echoed, calling back like a songbird.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.

"A chest pain," He said, and he shook his head, any suspicion clearing from his mind. He was oblivious.

Aya could not breathe. She closed her eyes again, willing her lungs to fill with air, and she could still see that golden thread, bridging their tapestries. She dared not pull it again, not with Eris right in front of her.

Had she done that? Had she made it herself? Was she that powerful, that she could forge a bond with her own hands?

"Are you alright?" Eris asked, eyes flicking back and forth between hers.

She ignored him, thoughts whirling faster and faster. She couldn't look at him anymore. His gaze burned, burned like fire and it hurt. The space between them was painful and her body was crying out for her to close the gap, to weave every thread of herself together with his and become one.

“I need you to go,” Aya swallowed hard. Eris opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off with an unconvincing smile and added, “I just need to lie down.”

He stared at her for a long moment, anxiety written so clearly in his eyes. It took all of the strength Aya had left not to tear away from his gaze, not to let tears rise to the surface and his hands wipe them away. The magnetic draw pulling her towards him only aided in confirming her suspicions and furthering her panic.

Finally, his lips drew into a tight line and he nodded.

“Please take care of yourself,” He said, slotting the armor back into place. At the entrance to the tent, he gave her one last glance before returning to the field.

Aya managed to wait until he had left to let the tears fall, dropping slowly to her knees and bending to let her forehead rest on the edge of the cot. What had she done?

She hadn't meant to do it. She had only been trying to heal him. Oh gods, had she trapped him, by accident?

All at once, everything that she was not flooded her mind. He deserved someone better. Someone less strange, someone people weren't afraid of. Someone smart and gorgeous with a mind for politics. Someone from Autumn, who Edana would love and welcome.

Trapped trapped trapped hammered against her skull in a steady rhythm. What had she done? Selfish selfish selfish.

She cursed her power over and over. It was not possible. It could not be possible.

And yet, she felt empty, her body acutely aware of his absence. The thread itched, begging her to chase after him and be closer. She had dreamt of a mating bond before, in the way that most young people did.

But this did not feel like a rose-tinted daydream come to life. This was another nightmare.

______________________________________

p.s. there is a metaphor in here that was especially fun to write if you can find it I'll give you a prize 👀

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

a/n: thank you THANK YOU guys for so much for the love lately. writing abt warren for yall and reading your guys' comments has been such a serotonin boost. I LOVE YOU ALL <333

timeline: ep. 3 + Christmas scene (kinda...)

-> Part 1

-> Part 2  

-> Part 3

This chapter: Part 4

Part 5

Epilogue (cancelled)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

warnings: not proofread as always <3, cursing, first Billy mention, angst (turned to fluff calm down), drinking, confusing time progression, implied sex teehee

summary (of this chapter): a visit to Laurel Canyon simply to talk to a friend and drop off a personally made outfit to a special costumer, ended in confessions and closures.

(if that didn't make sense, dammit just read the chapter)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Warren's either on something, or..." Eddie snickered at the offended Warren, "...yeah. Heh."

"I'm telling the truth, man!" Warren threw his hands up in frustration. "Guys, seriously."

"Warren, man, how do you expect us to react?" Graham took a swig of his beer. "It's just not...believable."

"We want proof." Eddie challenged him.

"Like what?" Warren scoffed. "What-What do you want me to show you guys?"

"You're creative man, I dunno, her bra?"

Warren leaned forward like he wasn't sure he heard his friend correctly. "Her bra?" He repeated. It triggered a nerve he didn't know could be triggered.

"There," Graham pointed at Warren's visible provoked tone. "That was enough proof. If he doesn't have it, then he never did it."

"Or!" Warren scoffed at both of his friends. "This is something I don't want to mess up. This is something new to me, and so far I think I have a good chance of getting something real. We kissed. We hung out. We laugh about things. I get her. I didn't have to do it."

A moment of silence and unsure glances were shared between the two friends, until the image of the woman and Warren talking to one another at that yacht party submerged from Graham's drunken and sluggish thoughts.

"Woah woah woah," He pushed himself to sit up. "What about Flora, the girl from the yacht party? You were just hooked on her."

Warren's lips immediately spread into a prideful grin. "That is her."

"Y/N Augustine...is Flora...?" Eddie frowned into space.

"Yeah!"

Only laughter erupted from the two drunk men, in turn making Warren grow more impatient with them.

"Fuck you guys, where's Karen?"

"Oh okay." Eddie shook his hands mockingly. "As if Karen will believe you any better."

Warren enters the house, almost tumbling over Camilla crouched down to the babbling Julia.

She noticed his tensed up presence. "Hey, War," she smiled up at him, "something wrong?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he waved her off, clearly distracted. "Where's Karen? I need her to back me up for something."

"She's out by the front, I think," she squints through the sunlight seeping through the window. “She said not to bother her, though.”

A figure comes in through the front door, but it was just Billy, much to Warren's disappointment.

"Hey man, is Karen talking to somebody out there?"

Billy furrows his eyebrows at him. "Yeah, but I wouldn't...want to interrupt."

"I just need to steal her for a minute."

"Warren, she's kind of important." He warned. "I wouldn't-"

Warren took it as a further indicator that the guest was Y/N. Karen couldn't possibly know anyone else as famous. He marches past him to the door, and when he swings it open to find Karen gathered on a table with the familiar woman sipping tea together, he instantly rushes to them.

Karen sees the black-haired figure she feared would eventually come and interrupt her time with her friend, and she couldn't help but groan out.

"Will anyone just give be a bloody minute to have things to myself? I mean, fuck!"

"Hello ladies," Warren greeted anyways as he stood in front of them. He waves at Y/N peering up at him through her pink-tinted sunglasses. His hands twitched at the sight of her in a purple see-through kind of cloth for her puffy long sleeves, her white bra visible. "Hey."

Karen took note of the way Warren's usual composure to be nonchalant suddenly sloughed off at the sight of Y/N. He actually seemed tense, and clammy, and giddy all at the same time.

"Hi."

And Karen took note of Y/N's. Her normal response to push away any means of flirting was suddenly forgotten at the sight of Warren's cheeky smile. Her "migraine" from having to work with a well-known celebrity who turned out to be a complete bitch from a few hours ago suddenly disappeared, seeing as now she was grinning up at him.

 •─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Karen: There was this...excruciatingly flirty tone in their voices. It was annoying for me to be the one to witness it.

But it was adorable how vulnerable they made each other, even from that simple greeting. Mind you, I didn't know what was going on between the pair. And everything about the way they looked at each other that day seemed...innocent. Pure, if you will.

Well, yes, I sent Warren to her condo so that I didn't have to explain to the poor guy that Y/N Augustine was messing with him the whole time. I sent him there because I knew she needed someone like him, and I knew he needed her too, in the best way.

•──���──⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You sound like you're in a rush, War," Karen faked a smile. "Why don't you get on with it so you're not wasting our time?"

Warren frowns down at her. "I mean, I was going to ask to borrow here politely, but I think I'm just going to take her now."

"Mm," Y/N hummed. "I love being objectified."

"Sorry baby," Warren apologized, squeezing her bare shoulders. "I got some stubborn friends who don't believe I've gone more than 6 feet of you. Gotta humiliate them. You like humiliating people, why don't we make this a date?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss something?" Karen gagged, pointing to the both of them. "I don't like this."

"Too bad, Sirko-"

"No, she's right." Y/N retorted. "I didn't agree to anything. I only came here for this." She reached below her seat for the red, shiny box, and Warren's eyes widen like saucers.

He lets out what sounded like a high-pitched scream, and a gasp at the same time. "For me? Aw, baby..." His eyes set on her admiringly. "You shouldn't have!"

Warren should've seen the incoming sarcastic remark a mile away. "Are you kidding me?! Of course I had to! I mean, I lost a total of 5 hours of sleep for this, and I have more pricks on my hand than a local cactus...but who cares?"

So Warren decides to play along. "I love me a tough woman."

But his swagger was immediately washed down with humiliation when Y/N stopped herself from continuing it.

"What the hell, Augustine? That's what that was?" Karen scoffed, taking into her hands a white tag attached to the strings of a ribbon tied to complete the look of the present. The tag was titled Serenity by Y/N Augustine. "Is that what I think it is?"

Y/N smiles awkwardly, and all Karen could do was sit with an agape mouth, trying to restrain herself from strangling her friend.

"I want to wear your work!" She whines. "I've been begging you to make me something for ages! What's his reason for one?"

Warren pulls up a chair and starts ripping the red wrapper. "Pretty privilege." He shrugged.

"Oh!" Karen moved her head back in offense. "Do you want to go, Rojas? I knew Y/N way before you even thought about snagging her!"

"Karen, can we calm down?!" Y/N yelled at her, laughing. "What's in a few weeks?"

She thinks about it for a minute. "Christmas-oh. Oh!"

Meanwhile, Warren had stood up from his seat to try on the his new light brown leather vest, embroidered with flowers on the bottom, and then-

“There they are.” Warren chuckled as he pointed out the bejeweled part of the vest. The jewels were tiny and silver, and acted as borders of the flowers, and went to border the rest of the vest.

From far away, Warren noticed that they were made to stand out. Not too glamorous, but definitely not too basic that can be found at a lame, store at the mall.

No, this was designer. This was by Y/N Augustine, the fashion icon.

“I did what you suggested,” Y/N squinted up at him. “I’m still getting used to how I want to use them on clothes. I don't want the to look to over the top."

“Not bad, baby. I like it.” He chuckles as he lifts his shirt off.

“This is the part where I leave.” Karen whispered to her, a disturbed look on her face, before walking off inside with her tea.

And maybe it was a good idea Karen left.

Y/N stares openly at his bare body. His bare chest.

Holy cow.

“You take your shirt off for every girl?” She mused. But at the same time, she was serious, with a hint of suspicion.

“Nah, just you.” He remarked before swinging his arms through the vest. It slid fit into his body easily. “Such fine art is reserved for the finer art.”

“Geeze, Rojas.” Was all she could muster up, out of complete flattery. Normally she would find these pick-up lines completely overused that it’s lost meaning, or that it’s meaningless as it is.

But she was believing this so easily. Way too easily.

The weird thing is, she likes it. She actually looks forward to them, and at the same time she's disgusted by her own smittenness.

Is that even a word?

Warren pats the vest against his chest and dusts off invisible dust. “How’d you know my size?”

“Called you to ask." She sipped her tea. "Woman named Camilla answered, though."

"That's why she snuck in my room to grab a vest. Could've just asked me to take over, though."

Y/N laughed. "The conversation went on for hours. She's lovely to talk to. I want to meet her in person today."

Warren couldn't help but get ticked off. She's touched every nerve he had, it felt like, but she was avoiding anything that had to do with him.

He was right in front of her, and all she could do was avoid him every possible way.

It was like every step Warren took, with Y/N's coldness, he'd have to take a way more steps back than he did forward. Approaching her kept hurting him.

And the only way she's approached him? It was a kiss, the best and most sensual kiss he's ever felt, one that seemed to keep him breathless and despite it, left her wanting for more. It was a kiss he's been wanting more of at every thought, every mention of her name.

And while the kiss was a moment he'd never forget, it seemed like for Y/N she had forgotten it as soon as it was over.

Y/N senses his change of demeanor just by the way he slipped out of the vest. "What's wrong?"

"Can we talk about it?" His voice wavered. Asking about it physically pained Warren, but he pushed through. "Alright? It's the least you could do."

Y/N swallows thickly, her eyes darting off to her shoes. "About what?"

"Y'know exactly what." Warren inhaled sharply as he slipped back into his t-shirt. "What is this, even? What do you expect out of this?" He motioned to the two of them. "Because I'll tell you what I want it to be. Y/N I barely know you, but I've already picked up enough about you to know that you are just about the only person I know that's stuck on me. You're different, and it's so comforting and-and nice to see someone stick to their own thing and not feel the need to conform to be part of the crowd. Do you know how refreshing that is? And, fuck, that kiss-"

Warren saw a slight tremble in her bottom lip, and he wasn't sure if he should stop or not.

"I'm not..." she clenched her jaw, surprisingly, not out of anger. "I'm not the happiest right now."

"Well that's fucking perfect, Y/N." He pointed at his chest. "I'm. Right. Here."

She shook her head, her eyes shut. "Don't-"

"I can do it." He reassured her in a low, husky voice. He took the risk of placing a hand on hers. "I doubted it for a second, that I'm holding you back or something, but nothing does. Nothing can hold you back. You do your own shit, and everyone just follows along, because you're such a force. For fighting about women's rights, donating to charities even I've never heard about-"

Y/N's heart only jammed against her ribcage violently. "How'd you know about that?" She whispered under her breath in disbelief.

He shrugged with a smile. "A man's gotta do his research."

She can't possibly give in, and it wasn't about her career now.

She's scared if she gives in, that she's just using him to fill in the emptiness of her life. A good—the best man she's probably met for noticing what others couldn't about her, for noticing what she herself couldn't notice.

She had just submitted a few of her bejeweled and other unique and risky clothing projects like Warren encouraged her to, and her team loved them.

When no answer came out of her, Warren continued, swiping his thumb over and over on her hand. "I've done all the research I can do, now I really want to see you behind the camera, behind the press."

It easily hit every doubt Y/N had in her heart down and dead. "Dammit, Warren-" she choked out, a hand over her eyes.

"Hey, look." He chuckled out. "I'm asking for a lot, but we can take this as slow as you want-"

"You're so fucking stubborn." She sniffed, slapping his hand away out of flattery. "Fuck you."

"Is that a yes? I don't have to go on one knee right now though, right?"

Y/N only shook her head and brought his lips to hers hungrily.

No, he didn't have to go down on one knee right now.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: Y'know, there were a lot of things I wish I could go back and experience again, but nothing beats the shocked look on those motherfuckers' faces that day when I came back with my sweet babe of a girlfriend wrapped around my arm *chuckles*

Eh, well,*he ticks* they actually haven't met her until Christmas day, which wasn't until a few weeks later. And I had some making up to do, which was perfect.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You promised me a drum lesson." Y/N panted out a laugh. Even after the high, she was able to push herself up on her elbows on the lofty bed. "To brush off my drumming skills because the drummer from the Six said I needed 'some help."

The said drummer followed her up and smiled against the corner of her lips. "Look who's gullible now." He teased.

He makes a trail of kisses from the neck and up, and with his mustache, earned him a few squeals and screams.

"One of these days I'm going have to elbow you or break your nose," she giggled out. "Warren, stop!"

He doesn't, and the sound of her giggling and laughing only encouraged him to kiss her harder on her neck, and with every pursing of his lips his mustache followed, tickling her. "You love my nose and my mustache."

"Warren, fuck!" Y/N moved away and grabbed her bedside alarm. "The dinner was supposed to start 2 hours ago."

"Well shit," Warren shrugged, clearly ignoring his lover's panic. "Too late for anything now. I think we should just stay here, on this bed, making lo-"

"Oy vey," she muttered under her breath, staring at the clock in dismay once again.

"Baby," he stifled a moan against her shoulder. "What did I say about speaking French to me? Fuck..."

"That wasn't even-I'm getting dressed." Y/N stumbles out of her entangled formation with her boyfriend to get to her closet.

When no movement followed her, Y/N threatened, "Warren, if you don't get up I'm dragging you out by your mustache."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

taglist (aka beautiful people): @pinkdaiisies @mlwriting5 @teletubbysteroids @linatells @stanzie @arsonkween @rexorangecouny @lisbeth122605 @cultsanrio @thatoneawesomechicka @magicalmiserybore @sourholland @sunfairyy. @lilyhw1 @viridianflowers​  @goldenjasssy @eonnyx @coldlamaspersonspy

[moonselune]

Fainting in front of the BG3 ladies

Karlach:

You should have said no to the sparring session, but Karlach looked so excited to train with you and you hadn't been able to spend some quality time with her due to all of Baldur's gate needing something from you. So you agreed, you may have been running on three hours of sleep total for the past four days and you hadn't eaten since - who knows when? But you agreed.

You barely managed a jab in before you were conked out on dirt floor taking an involuntary nap. Karlach had caught you and thought perhaps you were just joking around with her.

"Okay soldier, if you wanted to tap out you could've just told me- Soldier? Babe!?"

Karlach shook you fervently and when you still didn't respond to her she called out to the rest of the camp as if you had just taken 10 arrows to the chest.

"My Gods- Halsin stop petting that rat and fucking help them!" She shouted and the druid flinched before nodding his head, abandoning his new friend and coming to Karlach's side, your form cradled in her arms.

"I believe they've just fainted-"

"-THEY"VE DIED HALSIN PLEASE SAVE THEM" Karlach shouted as she lay you down onto the nearest bedroll, disgruntling the resident vampire. Halsin quickly got to work, letting a warm glow emit from his hands as he assessed you.

"I just need to-"

"-HALSIN PLEASE-"

"-Karlach it will-"

"-I CAN"T LIVE WITHOUT THEM-"

"-Karlach please, just-"

"-I'M TOO YOUNG TO BE A WIDOW-"

"-You're not even married-"

"-HALSIN!-"

"What is going on?" You groggily spoke as Halsin helped you up, only for you to be pinned back down by an emotional tiefling.

Karlach's arms wrapped around you tightly, tears streaming down her face as she buried her head in your chest. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, her voice trembling. You could feel her heart pounding through her clothes. She was running hot - hotter than usual.

Halsin chuckled softly, patting Karlach on the shoulder. "They're fine, Karlach. Just exhausted, it seems our leader has been neglecting themselves in their endeavour to save us all."

With a mix of relief and embarrassment, you patted Karlach's back gently, kissing her cheek. "I'm okay, really. Just... need a bit of rest."

Karlach finally loosened her grip, her eyes red but filled with determination. "No more skipping meals and sleep, got it? I need you in one piece."

You nodded, smiling weakly. "Got it."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the camp. You had been trying to hide your exhaustion, the result of relentless nightmares that plagued your sleep night after night. You feared Minthara would see you as weak if she knew, so you kept your struggles to yourself.

Tonight, however, the lack of rest finally caught up with you. As you walked back to your tent after a long day, the world began to spin, and darkness crept in from the edges of your vision. Before you could call for help, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Minthara, who had been sharpening her blade nearby, noticed immediately. She was at your side in an instant, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she called out, her voice sharp with concern. She knelt beside you, her hands gently cradling your head. You slowly regained consciousness, your vision blurry as you looked up at her.

"Minthara," you murmured weakly, trying to sit up.

"Stay still," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. She examined you carefully, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. "What happened?"

You hesitated, not wanting to reveal the truth, but the look in her eyes told you she would accept no evasions.

"I… I've been having nightmares," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I haven't been sleeping well."

Minthara's expression softened, though a flicker of frustration crossed her features. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice gentler now. "Did you think I would see you as weak?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't want to worry you. I thought I could handle it."

Minthara sighed, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You are strong, my love, but even the strongest need help sometimes. I would never think less of you for struggling."

You looked up at her, relief flooding through you. "I'm sorry, Minthara. I should have told you."

She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "It's alright. Just promise me you won't hide things like this from me again."

"I promise," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. Minthara helped you to your feet, her arm wrapped securely around your waist.

"Come," she said, guiding you back to your tent. "You need rest, and I will ensure you get it."

Inside the tent, Minthara helped you settle down, her touch surprisingly gentle. She sat beside you, her presence a comforting balm against the lingering fear from your nightmares.

"I will stay with you tonight," she said firmly. "And every night, if you need me."

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. "Thank you, Minthara. I feel safer with you here."

She squeezed your hand gently. "And you always will be. Now, rest. I will watch over you."

As you closed your eyes, the last thing you saw was Minthara's reassuring smile. Her presence beside you banished the shadows of your nightmares, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the promise of a peaceful sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The aftermath of the battle was a chaotic flurry of movement and sound, but you had managed to keep your injury hidden from Lae'zel. You knew how she valued strength and feared her reaction if she knew you were hurt. You gritted your teeth and pressed on, hoping the pain would subside.

But as you walked towards the camp, your vision began to blur, and each step felt heavier than the last. You stumbled, clutching your side as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Before you could call out, your legs buckled, and you collapsed to the ground.

Lae'zel, always vigilant, was by your side in an instant. Her eyes widened with a mix of fury and concern as she knelt beside you.

"Y/N!" she barked, her voice filled with a rare edge of panic. "What happened?"

You struggled to focus, the pain in your side sharp and unrelenting. "I… I didn't want to worry you," you managed to say, your voice weak. "I got hurt in the battle."

Lae'zel's eyes flashed with anger, but her hands were gentle as she inspected your injury.

"You fool!" she hissed. "Why did you not tell me? Do you think hiding your pain makes you stronger?"

You winced, both from her words and the pain. "I thought you would think less of me," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lae'zel's expression softened slightly, though her anger was still evident. "You are a warrior, Y/N, but even warriors can fall. Hiding your injury only makes things worse."

She carefully helped you sit up, her hands steady and sure. "Where does it hurt?" she demanded, her eyes scanning your body for the source of your pain.

You pointed to your side, where the wound throbbed painfully. Lae'zel's eyes narrowed as she examined it. "This needs to be treated immediately," she said, her voice firm. "You should have told me sooner."

"I'm sorry, Lae'zel," you said, feeling a wave of guilt. "I didn't want to be a burden."

Lae'zel shook her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and concern. "You are never a burden," she said, her voice surprisingly soft. "But you must trust me enough to share your pain."

She helped you to your feet, her arm wrapped securely around your waist to support you.

"Come," she said, guiding you back to the camp. "We will get this wound treated, and then we will talk about your foolishness."

As she helped you settle down, Lae'zel's demeanor was a mix of anger and tenderness. She fetched the healing supplies and began to tend to your wound with practiced efficiency.

"You need to be more careful," she scolded, though her touch was gentle. "I cannot protect you if you hide things from me."

"I understand," you said, wincing slightly as she applied a healing salve. "I won't hide anything from you again."

Lae'zel's eyes met yours, her gaze intense. "See that you don't," she said, her voice softening. "I care for you, Y/N. Do not make me worry needlessly."

You nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, Lae'zel. I won't let this happen again."

She finished bandaging your wound and sat back, her expression softening further.

"Rest now," she said, her voice firm but kind. "I will watch over you tonight."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The night air was cool and calm, but inside, your mind was anything but. The relentless night terrors had taken their toll, wearing you down night after night. You tried to push through the fatigue, not wanting to worry Shadowheart with your troubles. However, your body had reached its limit.

As you walked back to your tent, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. The world around you blurred, and before you could call out for help, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Shadowheart, who had been tending to a small fire nearby, noticed immediately. She rushed to your side, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she cried out, kneeling beside you. Her hands shook slightly as she checked your pulse and breathing, relief washing over her when she found both steady.

Even though you were unconscious, she couldn't help but scold you. "What were you thinking?" she muttered under her breath. "You should have told me if something was wrong. How could you be so reckless?"

When you finally came to, you found yourself lying on your bedroll inside your tent. Shadowheart was sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of worry and frustration.

"Y/N," she said, her voice stern but tinged with relief. "You're awake."

You managed a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, Shadowheart. You look worried. Did something happen?"

She didn't seem amused. "Don't you dare joke about this," she snapped, though her eyes were soft with concern. "You've been pushing yourself too hard, haven't you?"

You sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "I've been having night terrors," you admitted. "I didn't want to worry you."

Shadowheart's expression shifted to one of frustration. "You idiot," she said, her voice trembling. "Do you think I wouldn't want to know if you're suffering? Do you think I don't care?"

You reached out to touch her hand, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm sorry," you said softly. "I just didn't want to burden you."

Shadowheart shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "You could never be a burden to me," she said, her voice cracking. "But seeing you like this… it hurts. You have to promise me you won't keep things from me again."

"I promise," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand. She sighed, wiping away a tear.

"Good," she said, her tone softening. "Now, rest. I'll stay with you tonight."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The battle had been intense, and in the aftermath, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the others. You had sustained an injury but had hidden it from Jaheira, not wanting to bother her. However, the pain and exhaustion that were catching up with you had other ideas.

As you walked towards the camp, a sharp pain shot through your side, and the world around you started to spin. Before you could call out, your vision went black, and you collapsed to the ground. Jaheira, ever vigilant, noticed immediately. She rushed to your side, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, kneeling beside you. She quickly assessed your condition, her hands gentle but efficient.

"You're a fool," she muttered, though her voice was thick with worry. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

When you finally regained consciousness, you found yourself lying on a makeshift bed inside your tent. Jaheira was sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of relief and frustration.

"Y/N," she said, her voice firm. "What were you thinking?"

You managed a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, Jaheira. My dearest, darling love-"

She didn't seem amused by your attempts at seduction.

"Don't you dare try that," she snapped, though her eyes were soft with concern. "Not after this,"

You sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "I didn't want to worry you,"

Jaheira's expression shifted to one of frustration. "You damned fool," she said, her voice trembling. "Do you think I wouldn't want to know if you're hurt? Do you think I do not care?"

You reached out to touch her hand, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm sorry," you said softly. "I just didn't want to burden you."

Jaheira shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "You could never be a burden to me," she said, her voice cracking. "But seeing you like this… it hurts. You have to promise me you won't keep things from me again."

"I promise," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand. Jaheira glared at you but raised her clasped hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it. "I love you, Jaheira."

"I love you too, you may be a fool," Jaheria sighed, placing your clasped hands back to your side. "But at least you are my fool."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Another part of my silly series whilst I am away (wish me luck guys). Hope you enjoy it - Seluney xox