#I realised I am indeed in very very deep

[bellatrixscurls]

exquisite weather today, no? | part i

warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.

summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?

a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3

“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.

“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.

Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.

When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.

Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.

“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”

Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.

Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”

Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?

“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”

Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”

This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”

“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.

“He towers over me?”

The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.

“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”

At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.

In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”

And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.

His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.

Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.

“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.

When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”

Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.

“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.

“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”

At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.

He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”

Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.

Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.

“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.

He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”

“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.

“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.

“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.

“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.

You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.

A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.

The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.

Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.

A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.

Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.

There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.

Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.

Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.

“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”

Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”

“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”

Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—

But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”

Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”

Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”

“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”

“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”

“About what?”

“Serious stuff, I guess.”

Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.

Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”

“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”

In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.

A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.

“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”

Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.

“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.

Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.

Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.

Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”

Cassian just chews his bottom lip.

“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”

“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”

There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.

Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.

He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.

Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.

But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.

He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.

His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.

What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.

Dangerous.

Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.

“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”

No.

No, Azriel is not alright.

Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.

He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.

But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.

Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—

And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.

And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”

“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”

Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.

And then he says quietly, “No.”

It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.

But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.

This is serious.

Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.

But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.

And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”

Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.

This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”

Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.

And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.

“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”

“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”

“Piece of shit—”

“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”

Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.

A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.

What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.

The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.

He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.

“HEY!”

Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.

Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.

“Fucking vile—”

“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”

“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”

If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.

“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”

Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.

“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.

Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.

But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.

Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”

Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”

“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”

Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.

As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.

“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”

This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.

They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.

“Yes.” All three males intone.

“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”

Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.

“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”

Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”

Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”

Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.

“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”

Neither males are exactly sure.

But they’re both wise enough not to say that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.

And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.

Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.

At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.

It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.

Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.

He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.

“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”

“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.

You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.

 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”

“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.

“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”

Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.

You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Rhys studies you. “Done what?”

“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”

You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.

And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.

Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?

“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”

“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”

“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”

“I don’t disagree, but—”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”

“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”

Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.

He doesn’t.

He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.

He grits out through his teeth, “What.”

“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Utter silence.

Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.

You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.

And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”

“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”

“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”

“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”

Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”

“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”

Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.

But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.

You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.

You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.

Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

Wish you were someone, anyone, else.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”

You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.

There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.

“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”

You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.

You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.

And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.

“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”

Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?

But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.

Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”

A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.

“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”

“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”

“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”

Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”

You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.

Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”

You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.

But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.

Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”

You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”

His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.

You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.

And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.

“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”

The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.

And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.

“Out with it.” You say blandly.

“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”

You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.

And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.

When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.

And like always, he squeezes back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There’s a new crack in the ceiling.

There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.

This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.

This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.

Azriel fucking hates this bed.

He hasn’t slept a wink all night.

He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.

Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.

And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.

The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.

Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.

But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.

It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.

Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.

Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.

It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.

It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.

And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.

And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.

He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—

But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.

“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”

He heaves a deep, long sigh.

He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.

But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.

Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”

Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”

“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.

Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”

“What of my offer?”

Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—

But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.

“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”

“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”

“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”

Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.

But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”

“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”

The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.

“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”

Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”

Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.

“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”

The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”

Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”

She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.

“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”

Azriel doesn’t bother replying.

He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You’re sure you want to do this today?”

Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.

It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.

But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.

So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”

“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”

“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”

The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.

So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.

Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.

The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.

You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.

The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.

This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.

You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.

But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.

And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.

Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.

Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.

He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.

It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.

“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”

Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”

“Then why—”

“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”

After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.

But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.

Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.

You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.

And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.

“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”

“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”

You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.

Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.

There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.

But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.

It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.

“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.

In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.

“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.

“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”

His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.

You don’t speak another word to each other after that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.

Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.

“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”

But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.

“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

A/N: Based on a movie 😏📸. Also, here's a post explaining why I disappeared.

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“So you’re getting married tomorrow, huh?” the rhetorical question slips from your mouth with a smile. A smile that in every way looks, forced. 

You don’t know what you were thiniking. But a part of you, just wanted to have a conversation with your sister. Maybe you had hoped for it to be like one of those conversations. The kind that you’d see in movies, taking place between two sisters, when one is about to hit a big milestone. 

Maybe a little reminscing about the old days. A little recallation of the past times when you both got into trouble. Joking about the embarassing moments. A little laughter, a few tears and hearts filled with warmth. 

“Yes, I am,” your sister replies without bothering to look up.

You linger at the doorway for a moment and then realise how stupid you were. 

You nod, knowing very well that this is pretty much the end of the conversation–if you could even call it that. You let the door shut quietly and slip out of the room.

Tomorrow, your sister is getting married. Your elder sister, to be more specific. 

She is getting married to the man she loves, to the man she has been in a relationship with for seven years.

The man, who unfortunately happens to be the one you have fallen in love with, in the span of these last few weeks. 

Oh how did you get into this mess and expect it to result into anything other than heartbreak?

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The loud music playing through the speakers tempts you to join the ongoing celebrations. You look at the joyful faces of your family members and a smile appears on your face. Lord knows when you will be seeing them next.

“Please take care of yourselves,” you whisper, knowing very well that you should leave as quickly as possible.

However, your gaze lingers on one person in particular. Your father.  Oh, how you wish you could just hug him once before leaving. But that might not be a smart move. Your resolve might weaken on feeling his arms around you. No, you cannot afford that.

You take a deep inhale and turn away from the wedding celebrations. You march towards the exit gate with hurried steps. Your feet however, come to a halt when you spot one of your friends chatting with some guy near the gate. Shit. You turn away immediately and flee the spot before she can spot you.

Once you’re sure that there is no way for her to see you, you release a sigh of relief. You have no idea how you’d have explained the bags and luggage you’re currently carrying, had she seen you.

The thought of that makes you feel more urgency to leave this wedding venue. You look around frantically hoping that there would be some other gate. You do spot one, however, there stands your father’s uncle’s son’s son, who has seemingly found this to be the ideal smoking spot.

A few moments later, you come to the conclusion that there is indeed, only one way to escape this place. You need to climb over the wall.

You find a quiet place, away from the crowd, that has very dim lighting. You throw your bags over the wall and wait for the thud to confirm that your bags have landed on the other side. Then, you roll the sleeves of your shirt up and get ready for the difficult part; the climbing.

Thanks to your experience with tree climbing, you somehow successfully manage to climb the wall at your second attempt. However, it’s that wired fence that causes you more trouble than you would have ever imagined.

Somehow, it gets stuck to the back of your shirt in such an awkward position that you cannot even grab a hold of it properly. The only way for you to get your shirt unstuck would be to pull the piece of cloth hard enough. But then you cannot do that. It will tear your shirt and boy, where will you go and change now?

Slowly, very slowly, you move the shirt, hoping somehow, it would get freed from the wire.

Okay, so maybe a little this side–a little on the other–no, wait this is not–

“Are you leaving or are you arriving?”

A voice speaks, startling you to your very core. You look up and feel extremely relieved upon realising that this man happens to be someone who’s completely unknown to you.

“Well as of now, I’m stuck,” you trail off, hoping that the guy would catch the hint and help you.

Thankfully, he does.

He gathers a couple bricks that were laying around and tip toes on them for his hands to reach the wired fence. Despite not being able to see how the wire has gotten stuck in your shirt, his hand somehow still manages to do the job smoothly.

Once you’re free, you’re quick to get down. Dusting off your clothes, you pick your bags up. “Thank you, for helping me.”

“Considering that you got down on this side of the wall, I’m going to assume that you’re leaving.” He observes.

You look at him for a moment and then nod. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you need help with the bags?”

A smile appears on your lips at his words, as you think this guy is a little too nice for his own good. “Sure, that’d actually be helpful!”

Nodding he bends down to pick up the bags. He’s surprised when he realises how heavy your luggage actually is. “Damn, these are heavy.”

“I know,” you glance at your watch. “Let’s get going.”

It takes him a split second to process as you start walking immediately after the words are out of your mouth, without so much of a second glance at him. Your quick movements make him trail behind you, as you make your way through the playground which connects to the main road.

Having given up on catching up with you, he looks around and sees a bunch of kids playing football on one side of the ground. While the other side remains occupied with kids playing cricket. The scoreboard catches his attention as it reads “6 required from 3 balls”. That’s intense, he thinks.

His eyes remain fixed on the match as his feet continue to move. The bowler bowls and he watches with excitement as the batsman flicks it for a single. As the strike rotates, the scoreboard now changes to “5 required from 2 balls”.

The second last delivery of the match and much to his surprise, it’s a full toss. The ball connects right to the centre of the bat and goes straight in the air. His eyes follow the ball and he watches with a bated breath as he waits for it to be either a six or a four.

His jaw drops open, when the ball is caught–by you. You aim the ball straight at the stumps and before the runner can reach the crease, the ball hits the wickets, dismissing the bails.

“OUT!” 

A unanimous shout breaks out, celebrating the wicket. The tension breaks as the match is now in favour of the defending side.

Suddenly, the bags aren’t as heavy as they were moments ago and he rushes to catch up with you. “That was such a cool throw.”

“Thanks,” you shoot him a smile.

“Do you play cricket?” He queries, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

“I once used to. Nowadays, I don’t really get the time to play.” You shrug. “I love watching cricket though.”

“Did you watch yesterday’s match?” His excitement heightens.

“No I didn’t, but I did watch the highlights.”

“You missed one of the greatest matches of all times,” he shakes his head, emphasising his point with a dreamy smile on his face.

“I just don’t like watching ODIs,” you comment. “I think cricket matches should be of twenty overs. Four hours and the match is done.”

“I mean sure, T20Is are good, they are explosive in nature,” he agrees. “But nothing beats the longer formats of cricket.”

“Well, i am yet to get the hang of them,” you muse. “Maybe someday, I will get the hang of ODIs.”

“Maybe a India VS Australia match would do it for you.”

“Oh! I live for the sledging in India-Australia matches.”

“But then, the real spirit of cricket is in test matches! Five long days for one match and yet the match might be a tie. It really does test a man’s patience,” he speaks, his hands moving animatedly with each word. “Maybe that’s why they are called test matches, you know?”

“Kudos to the players playing these matches, because I do not have the patience to watch a test match. Can’t imagine playing it.”

“You should try watching a good bilateral series sometime, I bet you’ll like it.”

“Oh, I have definitely tried watching test matches before and I remember in half an hour, the scoreboard changed from 243 to 245. That was pretty much it for me.”

Your words cause him to cackle. “Maybe someday, you’ll realise the beauty of test matches, who knows?”

“Maybe. Someday.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the both of you.

“Who’s your favourite player, right now?”

“Has to be Steve Smith!” You claim proudly, without a second thought.

“Dude has got a bright future in cricket, that’s for sure.”

“I love how smoothly he hits those shots. It’s a treat watching him,” you add, your admiration for the young player visible in your eyes.

He hums and lets the conversation die as you both approach the main road, which is from where he assumes you’re about to take some vehicle to continue the rest of your journey. His assumption is proved right when you start waving at a taxi approaching towards the both of you.

“Airport?” You ask and upon receiving a nod from the driver, you start loading your luggage in the car. Once everything is settled, you get in as well. Locking in the door, you wave at him and ask the driver to get going.

He watches as the taxi sets to motion with a small lingering smile on his face. He is about to turn around and leave when the car stops and you poke your head out of the window.

“You want to tag along?” You ask loudly to be heard through the newly made distance between the both of you.

He is bewildered on hearing your words. “But the wedding---,” he points in the direction where the wedding ceremony is being performed, instead of completing his sentence.

“Are you the one who's getting married?” You answer with another question.

“No,” he shakes his head, eyes wide with confusion. How on earth are you saying this so casually?

“Then come along.”

He cannot see the whole of your body as only a portion of it remains poking out of the window and he has only known you for a very brief moment, but for some unknown reason he feels so sure that you must have shrugged as you said those words. And for some odd reason, with how casually you’re treating the situation, he feels the oddness of the situation fade.

“I cannot just leave the wedding like that,” he replies.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

You do not sound disappointed at all. You sound just as casual, he thinks.

“Have a safe journey,” he yells, as you retreat back inside the car.

A faint, i will, thank you, greet his ears and he shakes his head to himself. You are something, he thinks with that same smile as he heads back to the wedding.

“Dude, I met a 8.5 outside!” He tells his friend the moment he’s within earshot.

His friend doesn’t look at him as his gaze remains fixed somewhere else. “Forget about an 8.5. Look there, there’s a literal 10 right in front of your eyes.”

He follows his friend’s gaze and it leads him to one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, in his entire life. A ten indeed.

“Wow.” The breathless one word sentence escapes his lips without his permission.

His friend smirks at the reaction. “She’s the bride’s sister. She’s a model but is soon going to feature in some short films.”

The words barely register in his head as the girl locks eyes with him. Maybe he wasn’t discreet with his gawking, after all. What absolutely leaves him speechless, however, is when the girl gives him a shy smile.

The interaction isn’t missed by his friend as he whistles slowly, before murmuring, “Here’s to hoping you’re smart enough to understand what that smile means.”

[anfie-in-the-box]

Be Who You Are (An Error Just Like Me)

Notes

A little something for @zu-is-here (: Thanks for the request! It was a bit difficult at first, but today inspiration hit hard and I couldn't help but write, write, write. It was amazing, and I'm quite proud of the result.

。。。

For one too many times, Blueberrory stumbles on something he doesn't see and groans, frustrated, caught in Error's strings so he doesn't fall and possibly break a bone or two. Error laughs at him, glitching slightly, but helps Blueberrory regain his balance.

“Ugh. Ho-o-ow?” he mutters with barely concealed irritation. He's definitely become moodier as an error. He wonders if it would ever go away. 

“You want me to teach you how to navigate the Anti-Void? That's what I'm doing,” Error says, still giggling — and glitching, just a tiny bit. Blueberrory can't help but smile fondly. Oh, to slowly but surely learn to understand Error's twisted mind… He enjoys Blueberrory's struggles very much, but he also cares, and he also wants Blueberrory to succeed. If only to prove he's the best teacher and guide in the Anti-Void. And because they're becoming friends. 

“There's this one tiny little thing that I don't understand,” Error says, now frowning. 

“Am I missing something?” Blueberrory asks with hope. Maybe Error is finally tired of his games of vague charades? But he stands up and spreads his hands. 

“Come here and hug me.” 

Hope is a stupid feeling indeed. Error hates physical contact and barely knows how to soothe the feeling — before Blueberrory he didn't even have the clothes that would suit his needs. And now he just stands there, almost demanding a hug? Blueberrory knows Error's not the most stable person around, but this… 

Nonetheless, Blueberrory comes closer and… He's not sure what happens next, but stars, he's glitching like crazy. It doesn't hurt though, not at all, and then it ends as fast as it has started. And he finds himself a tiny little bit away from Error, though Blueberrory can swear he was close to him, closer than Error ever allowed. 

“What… What was that?!” Blueberrory shouts, startled. 

“Stupid, don't you realise that's your main advantage here in the Anti-Void?” Error makes a dissatisfied face, but there's a certain sparkle in his mismatched eye-lights. He enjoys knowing more and understanding better. And Blueberrory will be his favourite subject for a rather long time — he's a fast learner, but now that his nature and soul have changed, he has a lot of things to either learn or relearn. Like navigating his new home.

“I don't understand,” Blueberrory says after a few deep breaths. He's still frustrated but not angry or bewildered to the point of shock. “What happened? Why am I farther from you than I was before, well, trying and failing to hug you, I suppose? Why did I glitch like that?”

Silence falls. At least Blueberrory isn't irritated anymore, and Error's thoughtful face soothes his soul even more. Blueberrory really, truly misses the times patience came naturally to him. But he'll do his best anyway. And besides, that part of him is deep inside, more than a memory, less than an illusion — a part of his experience, a part of his past, long gone. Blueberrory isn't the magnificent Sans.

Error laughs loudly and Blueberrory takes a step back, startled. 

“You're so funny,” Error finally says when his laughter ceases. “Wonder whether I would be as funny if I had someone to look after me.”

Blueberrory perks up. Error doesn't talk about his past, or, well, his past in the Anti-Void. He loves telling stories about the AUs he once destroyed, or the AUs that managed to attract his attention and therefore stayed. The latter ones were far and between at first, but as Error learnt to tame his insanity, he found beauty and fascination in more and more things. He found his own reasons to grant mercy, as twisted as those reasons are.

“What's funny, then?” Blueberrory asks calmly. 

“That you really don't understand!” Error grins. “What happened is one of your own ways to be an error. Congratulations! Now you know what to master!”

Blueberrory sighs. Error's words still don't make any sense, though they really should. But that's fine, Blueberrory is still getting used to… everything, really. Error knows that, so Blueberrory will get his answers. Sooner or later, one way or another. 

“I see you're not getting it.” This time, Error quickly goes to Blueberrory and touches his shoulder. 

Well, he tries to. Blueberrory doesn't even get a moment to react. He's glitching again, and he's a few steps away from Error. Again. 

“Most errors can't touch living beings, as far as I know,” Error finally starts to explain with words. “But you? Oh, how I envy you, little Berry! You can't touch anything, not in the state you're in right now.”

“But I… I stumble on… whatever it is in the Anti-Void?..” Blueberrory mumbles, then grimaces — he's meant to sound coherent and confident, not like this. 

“Of course you do! That's why I said you've got to master your ways to be an error. They're advantages as much as they are obstacles.”

“So what you mean is… There's a way to cheat?”

“Sure, call it like that, why not! We are errors, but we are also hackers. The Anti-Void loves those who know the rules, but it loves those who set their own rules even more.”

“What is yours, then? Advantage and obstacle, I mean.” 

Error tenses for a moment — Blueberrory doesn't even start regretting his decision to ask. Enough is enough. But Error answers slowly, “My vision. Without the glasses, I see more. Or, well, differently.”

Blueberrory hums, not letting this show of Error's trust and honesty go unnoticed but also not focusing attention on his words. 

What feels like hours later (though you never know with the Anti-Void), Blueberrory still stumbles here and there, but sometimes he doesn't, glitching out of the way — and gets a standing ovation from Error, slightly mocking yet genuinely proud. What a mix.

“Be who you are — an error just like me,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Blueberrory hears it anyway. He makes a promise to himself to become the second best error ever. The first is Error himself, of course.

So much to learn, so much to see, and Blueberrory won't be alone. Lucky him.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Error and Blueberror © loverofpiggies

。。。

Notes

There's a few references here and there. The title is a slightly corrected line from Hazbin Hotel song Loser, Baby.

"Hope is a stupid feeling" is a belief from a series of Russian books that I like a lot, though I don't fully agree with this particular notion. Still interesting to look for situations where it works.

Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

P. S. Requests are still open!

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.

[moonselune]

could you write wyll gale and astarion with a clingy very overly affectionate reader :0 thanks!!

a little bit of fluff to soothe the soul x

Gale:

Gale loved your affectionate nature, but it was also the reason his stack of unfinished books kept growing taller. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on his studies and research with you constantly draped around him.

"My dear, how am I supposed to finish reading this tome if you're always like this?" he asked, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

"Who needs books when you have me?" you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek to his. "I am a font of all knowledge."

"Oh really, tell me then-mmpf" Gale was cut off by a kiss to his lips, you didn't have to answer his question if he couldn't ask it. Gale sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. He could never stay mad at you. The warmth of your body against his and the way you always wanted to be close to him was endearing.

"I suppose the ancient spells and histories can wait a little longer," he conceded, closing the book and setting it aside.

You grinned, triumphant, and nestled closer to him. Gale would often find himself torn between his love for knowledge and his love for you. But in those moments, with you so close and content, the choice was easy. He'd happily wrap his arms around you, hold you close, and let the world of books and spells fade away, if only for a while.

Astarion:

Astarion adored how much you wanted to be close to him. Your need to be intertwined with him was a constant reminder of the deep bond you shared. However, it also meant that letting go, even for a moment, was always a struggle.

"Must you cling to me so, darling?" he asked one morning, though his tone was light and teasing as he tried to extricate himself from your embrace.

"Yes," you replied simply, your arms tightening around him.

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "And what if I have to go out?"

"Then I'll come with you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He sighed dramatically, though he was clearly enjoying the attention. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"But you love it," you countered.

"Indeed, I do," he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face and the two of you remained there until Lae'zel dragged the both of you out by your ankles.

Whenever he had to leave, you had a devious response. You would bat your eyelashes, comment that he looked a bit tired and offered him your blood, knowing he could never refuse. He would then return to your arms, and happily suckle on your veins. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, and of course, he couldn't just abandon you after the gracious gift you just gave him. It was perfect.

Until he realised what you were doing.

"I mean honestly, did you really think I was some pup you could train!?" Astarion flounced across the tent and you sat on your bedroll, smiling guiltily. When he caught you, his outrage continued. "Don't smile, darling, I'm very upset at you!"

There was absolutely no conviction in his tone, and you bit your lip before opening your arms to him. "Sorry, Want to kiss and make up?"

"....well, how could I say no?"

Wyll:

Wyll loved the way you were so affectionate with him. Your constant need to touch, hug, and be close to him was a balm to his often stressful life as a hero and protector. He cherished every moment of it, even though it often left him flustered in public.

"My beloved, not here," he would murmur, his cheeks tinged with a blush as you hugged him from behind, your arms draped over his shoulders while he was trying to talk with a merchant in the marketplace.

"But why not, Wyll?" you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck and watching with satisfaction as he stammered and the merchant chuckled knowingly.

He relished in your affection but couldn't help getting embarrassed when others were around. The look of adoration in his eyes, however, never wavered. When you were alone, he was more than happy to reciprocate your affection. He'd pull you into his lap, kiss your forehead, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

One evening, while the two of you were at a formal gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to slip your hand into his and lean against his shoulder. His friends and acquaintances looked on with amusement and envy.

"Y/N, dearest, you're making it hard for me to concentrate," he whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Good, I like it when you're all flustered." you replied cheekily, nuzzling his neck. Despite the public embarrassment, Wyll wouldn't trade your affection for anything.

Little bit short, but hope you all enjoy it x - Seluney xox

[shamixlour]

The Bear - 3x10

This scene was a masterpiece and obviously horrendously tragic at the same time and that for multiple reasons. 

For a little context, we're at EVER restaurant, funeral diner, everyone is having lots of fun and we get a glimpse of Sydney in the middle of her peers. She fits perfectly in, participates in the conversations, entertains and definitely grasps the heart of the people around the table AND YET you have Carmy totally absent. He is the one who invited her and he is not present, he is not here. Instead, he keeps staring down at his old chef two tables away. He keeps staring, dissociates himself completely from his environment and doesn’t interact at all with his old cuisine acquaintances. At first, no one really pays attention or at least you are pushed to think so until Luca asks him if he’s okay and remarks that Carmys is staring. Sydney finds an opportunity in this to ask herself and note that he is indeed staring and wonders who he is staring at. Carmy, eyes still locked on the Chef David Fields from Empire tells them and this is the only moment he interacts with the people around him. Right then and he starts painting the Chef’s portrait to Luca and Sydney.

Carmy : He's the fucking worst and one of the best Chefs in the world. Luca: Well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world. Carmy: Total prick. Fuckface. The bastard made me very, probably mentally ill. Dead inside. Cold. Never turns it off. Accomplishes more by 10am than most people do in a lifetime. Sydney: "looks over Carmy gravely" Carmy: I don't think he sleeps. I don't think he eats. I don't think he loves. He hates black pepper for some reason I will never understand and he is getting up. Luca: Carm. Carmy. Sydney: Carm. Carmen.

The thing is, each word Carmy uses to define that Chef Fields is, imho, just another adjective to describe who Carmy is as a Chef himself.

I hated that moment. I did not like hearing him describe that man because with each syllables that split through his mouth, I realised that the person Carmy was supposedly describing, that horrible, vicious, toxic, controlling and overly awful Chef that had no heart, no empathy, no source of humanity left in him and destroyed him was in fact Carmy himself.

I felt like he was describing himself and it broke my heart because truly, what he showed of himself in the Bear’s kitchen this season 3 was just that. 

A cold, controlling, harsh and judgmental Chef. 

Someone that would not hesitate to crumble the ounce of confidence left in you (poor Tina) if you don’t meet his standard. Someone who would not respect you if you don’t reach his fucking stupid non negotiables. Someone who would say snarky comments at you, sometimes full of disdain and haughty, implying that he is better than you. 

That is because I am better than you. That is because I have more skills. That is because you’re not good enough, you’re not excellent enough, you are not like me.

Carmy said shouted that to everyone throughout season 3. He did not care and that regardless of the history between them, regardless of the obvious efforts of the past, of the growth of each person in that kicthen. He did not give a single fuck of the looks of panic, of the shaking voice of Tina, of the dead glare of Sydney, of the feelings of distress.

No, Carmy was cold.  He was just cold. A total prick. A fuckface. Demanding. Hard. Full of himself despite his failures. Arrogant and condescending. Ready to crush you mentally if you don't meet his expectations. He did not care. He did not sleep. He did not love.

That was Carmy of season 3 and I hated it.

I despised hearing him describe that Chef, watching him stand up and run after that man to tell him fuck you when Carmy became exactly fucking THAT. It was so tragic and sad and SO fucking hypocritical at the same time and I fear that Carmy was slightly aware, deep down within him. He knows what that man says to him is true, maybe he even knows the monster he described to Syd and Luca was himself and maybe that is why he cries in that corridor because Chef Fields confirms that to him in a way.

I made you excellent. I made you. You became me. One of the best chefs in the world. We are the same so you are welcome.

Carmy was okay. He left excellent but at what price?

-

I also wanna point out something during Carmy's depreciating monologue regarding Chef Fields. Not only Sydney stared at him gravely all along, the words resonating maybe a bit too much but also Luca said something I found interesting.

He said "well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world." and I could not dissociate this from Carmy himself, from him maybe not being one of the best chefs in the world either if he continues like that, if he doesn't step away from the Chef he is now, if he doesn't go back to a track where he wants to get better, where he listens, teach and love and eat and sleeps and is alive.

-

If you read all of this, heart on you <3 let me know your thoughts, future meta about ep 3 is coming soon hehe~

[yoonsenji]

Summary: their voice line! // part 2.

" She's mine, not yours "

Part 1 =

---------------------★

Genshin impact₊˚.༄

Character: Freminet, Zhongli, Furina, Heizou.

//Freminet ★

•CHAT: You.

" She told me that crying is a great way of getting rid of bad feelings, I have never been told such things... All my emotions pour out right infront of her, she didn't make fun of me... I feel much better after that, hence whenever I need someone she's the only one I can go to "

•CHAT: about 'Father' from you.

" I always believed that 'father' was somehow always right, but yet she prove me wrong most the time... She told me to do whatever I feel like, from that day my way of seeing 'father' change... "

•CHAT: Crush.

" Well... I like this one person... They're kind towards me... I feel safe around them, they're very supportive of my decision, around them... I can feel my confidence good up "

•CHAT: When it Rains.

" I don't enjoy when it rains... But, she told me to enjoy every moment of it tho, although I found it weird to enjoy watching rains... I guess some people have weird hobbies? "

•CHAT: Ocean water.

" You never know how deep those ocean water are... Do you? But if you don't take a chance you'll never be able to experiance the joy of the ocean water. That's what she told me... The first person to ever encourage me even when I fail over and over, it was her "

•CHAT: Special person.

" She's the type of person to encourage me and stay by my side even when I fail multiple times... Have anyone done that for you? To stay by yourside and encourage you to do what you love... Maybe that's why I always desire to be by her side. "

•CHAT: Comfort area.

" She doesn't force me to do anything unlike others who tried to 'help' me by forcing me out my comfort area... She... She tried to pull me out slowly and if she realised I don't feel comfortable she just stop. I just wish people respect my decision just like how she always did "

• CHAT: Crying.

" 'Father' doesn't allowed children to cry 'father' say's that crying is the product of weakness and emotions. I used to cry under the water so the ocean could cry with me... But, now I got someone... Someone who understands my feelings and cry with me "

• CHAT: feelings (Jealousy).

" whenever I see her close with Lyney I have a nasty feelings coming from my heart, Lyney and I are opposite of eachother... I'm afraid she'll fine someone better. But, I know that I'll never be able to find anyone better than her. "

• CHAT: Midnight.

" During midnight she would take me to her spot and we both would sit down and watch the ocean and the moon... She would told me everything about her day and stories, I often fall asleep but in the morning she always disappear, her jacket on me to protect me from the coldness of the night... Or it's either that she would be beside me sleeping as well... "

• CHAT: Pers.

" Pers is like a family to me... Often her and pers would play together, it's actually my first time seeing pers get along with anyone else but me "

• CHAT: Future.

" Why should I tell you...? Fine... I do plan on getting married one day... You don't need to know to who! It's a private matter "

------------------->

Lyney-

" I could tell that freminet like her alot! Although I'm a bit jealous of how good looking she is and how she acted towards my brother, guess luck run in the family! "

Lynette-

" Freminet like her I could tell... Anyone with brain could tell, those two are always by eachother side, it's weird to see them not by eachother side at this point "

//Zhongli★

• CHAT: Lover.

" Being so straight forward about my personal life I see... Since you have been honest to me I shall return the favour by being honest as well. I do not have a lover, although I am indeed fascinated by someone, well... I can't tell you their name, afterall I have already honestly answer one of your question "

• CHAT: Scents.

" You have good sense of smelling, one lady told me that this scent can increase the change of receiving love or complement from your significant other. It's a type of trick used by many sellers to sell their product, although I did indeed recieved a complement from them... I guess a lie can turn into truth as well "

• CHAT: the past.

" Although the memories I have shared with those who have long gone left this world will still be cherished by me, the memories I spend with her will forever be in my mind, I simply couldn't go a day without thinking about those memories. Still, I will continue to cherish the new memories I have create with her, promising to make them better each time I create a memory especially with them "

• CHAT: Life.

" For God like us life goes slowly for mortal like you life is fast... It isn't the smartest to simply spend your life lazily, so... Before you die you should find someone that you can cherish forever, spend the rest of your life with... Oh me? I have already found that person long ago, although I am not sure if they share the same feeling as I do for them "

• CHAT: Liyue.

" Liyue is the land of contract where contract is value and if you made one you cannot betrayed your own word... It's easy, although I do not remember making any contract with her, she have been staying by my side for years always accompanying me... It's fascinating on how one doesn't need contract to stay loyal to another individual "

• CHAT: Fate.

" War is apart of fate... No matter how much blood have to be shed you cannot out do fate it's self. If one fate is to die there is no escape, which is why I always have a close eyes on her... I'll do anything in my power to make sure that fate like that never cross her path "

• CHAT: love.

" I have once saw two old couple walking down the road of Liyue. I have seen them together when they were both youthful, such nice story... I wonder if mine will end like those two, inlove with eachother till death? Or a heartbroken love story? "

• CHAT: Future.

" I prefer to live in the present than the future nor the past, although the future will always appear the past is forever lost... I'm very careful around her I do not wish to make any problem to turn our relationship sour anytime soon, afterall one sour memory can ruin all of them "

• CHAT: Special time.

" Every time a full moon is present she'll force me to accompany her to watch the moon, I do think that it's beautiful but I simply can't even stare at it when she's around. It is as if my eyes are only set on her... I wish those memories would last forever "

• CHAT: Life of regret.

" One day she'll leave me... She's just a mortal with short life spam, unlike me... I just can't bear the fact that I'll have to be alone once again. Even the thought of her not by my side pain my heart... But, there is nothing I could possibly do to prevent such future "

--------------------->

Childe-

" Ah! The lady of Gold! I always see her with Zhongli smiling and giggling... They remind me of my parents being together, although both of them do not interact much when I'm around... Shame I wanted to atleast know more about their relationship! "

Hu Tao-

" Mister Zhongli and her are the best together! She's very supportive of us and our work. Oh god! I'm so happy to talk about her! Although mister Zhongli is a bit shy they both seem to get along just fine! I bet they will be in love very very soon! "

//Furina★

• CHAT: Lover.

" Hmm... Oh her? mon amour she always attend every trail! I love talking to her about anything! Always interesting and super fun to... I wonder if she would like to join my tea party again... It's not like she could reject such offer "

• CHAT: Trail.

" Whenever she talk in trail it's like a story unfolding it's self! Her voice is very calming and it feels like she's simply telling a tail...! Although she also lost some trail even a fail victory should be celebrated! "

• CHAT: Rain.

" It's raining again? Seriously? Ohhh... I wish she was here! Neuvillette doesn't allow me to visit when it rain since I might get sick... Who care? I'm the hydro archo, no sickness will ever seperate me from her! Although maybe the coldness might... Heh "

• CHAT: Performance.

" I only perform as a form of entertainment... And she would watch and correct my movements sometimes... Afterall I make no mistake that often! I should invite you when I get the chance! "

• CHAT: Water.

" I can't even think of being without her... All those years I spend without her was dark and lonely... The light of my life is her, I rather not go back to what I used to be... Afterall would you rather have a God that is nothing without the love of her life or A God with someone to love...? "

• CHAT: Order.

" I don't understand! I get that neuvillette is all about law but why can't I see her?! That's just talking control over my life! Ugh! It's not like I won't come back for years... Anyway I'm seeing her anyway one way or another! "

• CHAT: Sunny.

" So hot... Even water can dissolve at this point... Oh no! My love! She might melt if I'm not there... Ughhhh! Such an urgent matter! Tell neuvillette that I the archon is out to aid her people from melting like ice cream! "

• CHAT: Fatui.

" It's better to not keep such negative thoughts in head but... Fortunately for me... My dear can beat up any fatui! Afterall she's a fine fighter and lover... Even that girl would be on her knee upon seeing my love! I'm so lucky! See how strong she is? Do not mess with me, cause she say my pain is her's so mess with me you mess with her! "

• CHAT: Eyes.

" I was a bit unwell about how different my eyes are... Although I get praise for it, if felt as people were talking badly about it... Until she told me how unique it was... For the pass two hour she continued to praise me especially my eyes... I guess I'm special afterall! "

• CHAT: Tea party.

" The party is only held when I feel like it... Cake and tea any dessert you want I have it... From Liyue and also sumeru oh and I also have some from Inazuma... Although don't expect it to be good... How I get it? My darling always bring some back for me! Just for me! I guess I'm her favourite afterall! "

• CHAT: Hydro vision.

" If only neuvillette agree with me she would have a hydro vision already... I even send Letter to other archon not to grand my love any vision cause I want her to have hydro vision just like me... A soulmate should have same vision! But Neuvillette wouldn't agree with me! Saying she's not worthy something something... Ugh! Talking about it make me want to burst out... Just wait... She'll receive that hydro vision one day... "

------------------>

Neuvillette-

" I like her... Everyone around her are comfortable, if only furina stop pampering her with everything... She have been arguing with me to give her a vision yet I can't just agree... It's well known that the hydro archon favour her so it's unfair if she receives a hydro vision... I just know that furina will give her one anyway... Atleast she handle furina without any problem, other than that... I have nothing to say about her "

Arlecchino-

" The soft spot of the archon... Inorder to hurt the archon directly you just need to hurt the girl, although it is hard to capture her she's quite strong herself. But it won't be long till I get her, I'll take the gnosis and she'll be long gone... Afterall I can't have her following after me, a problem should be solved before it becomes to big to handle "

//Heizou★

• CHAT: Lover.

" Hm... Her? Isn't she just pretty? The first time I met her was like straight up from a romantic novel... Such girl like her approaching me is unbelievable... Although I won't like any competition so... Promise not to fall for her as well "

• CHAT: comission.

" Um... Well, the comission... It can be quite annoying but I always enjoy them since she would always be my partner! Inorder to make things fun you need the person you love the most to join you and things will get better. Am I right traveller? "

• CHAT: Justice.

" Justice is very important afterall how can I blindly let the law be destroyed infront of me right? Although... I might have made some expectations doesn't mean you are included traveller "

• CHAT: You.

" I can't stop thinking about them once again... Even at work they fill my mind which frustrate me at some point but... Their soft smile and touch I do miss it dearly, ugh! It's happening again. Quick traveller help me think of something else! "

• CHAT: kissing.

" At time I would hold hand with her but... Kissing? You must be joking, holding hand and cuddling I can understand but kissing her like nothing is wrong is just weird... You can't just kiss without thinking. I want this to be perfect for her, just like how things should be... "

• CHAT: Fish.

" Traveller! Would you like to go and catch some unique dish later? But they have to be alive tho... My love wanted to have a pet bug I think they're to lazy for energetic animals so a fish shall do it... So? Up for it? It can be our little hangout day to get to know each better? "

• CHAT: People.

" Most people think we're dating and each time I can't help but blush a little... But, unfortunately that isn't the care but I wish it was... I'm sure those rumours will be true in some week or years but just wait I'll get to confess one day! "

• CHAT: Sudden encounter.

" Whenever I encountered them suddenly my heart skip a beat... That should be a bad thing but I like the feeling. One time, I hide behind someone else when i suddenly see them, it was embarassing but... I just can't help it "

• CHAT: Assistant.

" Sometimes she wouldn't join me at work and talk about how good of a partner we were... I can't help but think that she secretly like me and I'd hinting that I should confess. Especially when she hold my hand at work, she definitely like me! "

• CHAT: Hair.

" I always enjoy it when she brush my hair or play with my hair, put me at ease but I always hate it when she stop... Everyday she would do my hair it doesn't matter how ugly it look I will always proudly walk around with it no matter what. Afterall would you make fun of the work of your lover? "

------------------->

Kazuha-

" Hm... I remember her and Heizou being extremely close together. I did bring it up one time only for Heizou to go red as a tomato... Guess you can say he did harbour feeling for the girl "

Itto-

" Ah! Her! Heizou and her are like bestfriend! Although most say they're in love I bet they are just so close that some people lost their mind! Although I do see them together always doesn't mean they're in love right? "

[actual-changeling]

No Nightingales

or: the one time they are actually on the same page

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner—we once again find ourselves in the final fifteen because I am far from done with them.

I already dove deep into the potential meaning of that phrase, you can find the meta post here, but regardless of what it stands for, the important part of today's post is their mutual recognition of it.

During their entire argument, they are on two different levels of understanding, and while Crowley is somewhat aware of that, Aziraphale very much isn't. But then, right at the end, Crowley invokes the nightingales, and suddenly they find themselves on the same plane of communication.

Let's start from the beginning. Well, not the beginning beginning, but rather the beginning of the end of their conversation.

Aziraphale is visibly upset, there's a strong undercurrent of genuine anger within the hurt, and he reverts back to an almost petulant expression when he tells Crowley "there's nothing more to say".

The movement he is doing with his mouth—maybe biting his cheeks from the looks of it—is the same one as at the end of their very first argument of the season. In the back of the bookshop with Jimbriel being the centre of their discussion, he eventually tells Crowley "but if you won't, you won't". When he sits down and throws his little temper tantrum, it's the same expression of 'I am kicking you out, go leave'.

In episode 1, Crowley does indeed leave, although we all know he comes back later that evening, but not this time. He knows Aziraphale, he knows exactly why he is doing what he is doing, why he is saying what he is saying, and while it broke his heart, it also means he is out of patience and energy.

For six thousand years, he has been trying to get Aziraphale to understand—and he simply refused to do the work necessary for that, preferring to stay in his cognitive dissonance framework of the world.

They are as done as they can be in that moment, and yet Crowley stays and tries one more thing: No nightingales.

"Listen, do you hear that?" is not a question Aziraphale expected, which is quite obvious in his annoyed reaction.

(side note: If someone I love were to talk to me the way Aziraphale responds to Crowley here I'd slap them and walk out. The absolute disrespect in his tone is appalling and Crowley deserves a reward for putting up with it.)

"I don't hear anything," and he isn't getting it just yet, still angry and petulant, still upset.

But then that changes. "That's the point. No nightingales," and Crowley is looking at him like it means something, begging him to listen, to understand—and Aziraphale DOES.

Look at the change in his expression, all that angry annoyance is gone and replaced by a sad dawning of understanding. If you compare this expression with his earlier one, the shift is as obvious as a blinking neon sign on a dark road.

Whatever the exact meaning of 'no nightingales' is, it is unambiguous and a fundamental part of how they communicate about their relationship with each other. Aziraphale has his oh moment, he is forced to confront the entire argument they just had and what it lead them to, what it destroyed.

That is what Crowley tells him, what hits Aziraphale hard enough to completely push him off-balance, to make him sad and visibly hurt instead of angry and upset. Michael 'microexpressions' Sheen strikes again.

Focus on the look in his eyes, the small, almost imperceptible shift, the shame that appears, and the tears it brings. He averts his gaze at first and then raises it back to Crowley because he understands now, he finally realised what Crowley has been trying to tell him the entire time.

No nightingales. It means we're done, we're over. It means I cannot come with you, I have to leave and safe myself. It means I love you, I know you love me, but it isn't enough.

It means we could have been us—but not anymore. Crowley sees him understand, and THAT is why he calls him an idiot; it's not about him returning to heaven or any of the other shit he said. It is about Aziraphale not listening to Crowley, of being so caught up in his bullshit he did not understand the simple message he was being told.

"You idiot. We could have been us."

I love you I love you I love you but now we are ruined and I blame you. If you had listened we could have been happy together, but look at where we ended up instead.

Aziraphale is still staring at him, but once those words leave Crowley's mouth, the tears begin to rise. Lips pressed together to keep himself from crying, the little wobble disturbing them, the pure, distilled pain etching itself into his face.

Shame. Guilt. Anger. Blaming Crowley, blaming himself. Aziraphale is confused, forced to make decisions without getting the space to breathe, to think, and he fell back into the easiest option—be a good angel and do what heaven says.

A part of him KNOWS all of that. It knows what he just did, what he ruined, how much they ended up hurting each other. So the tears come, and when he can no longer keep himself from crying, he turns away.

Crowley understandably combusts at that because really? Really? You dare to turn away from me after all this? I ripped myself open in front of you, and when I FINALLY manage to make you understand you turn your back on me?

He is desperate and hurt, heartbroken beyond repair, and there are six millennia of hopeless love spilling over—so he kisses him.

Hear me, listen to me, understand, I love you I love you I love you, I am losing you, I don't want to lose you, we're done. I know this won't change anything. I know what you will tell me, but I need to try. I need to make sure you know how much I love you.

I need you to understand what you are leaving behind.

There is no secret conversation happening, there's no trick, otherwise this moment of realisation would not exist.

But it does. It is right there for everyone to see.

After everything, this was probably the most painful moment for me, because you see him get it. You see him process, you see him understand, you can practically taste the chaos unfolding in his mind.

Aziraphale understands, but it is too late, and so he finishes what he started and leaves anyway.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Homecoming Daydream Part 2

Summary: With the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.

Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.

Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.

Part 1: Homecoming Daydream

Y/n hadn’t lied before. She wasn’t nervous about marrying Toto. Like at all. 

At that moment, as she walked towards him, down the altar, she was overcome not by excitement but was overwhelmed with the sense of love. The sight of someone, and not just someone, he is, the man in her dream standing at the end of the aisle, patiently waiting for her. She felt like she must have been trapped in a dream, one that she silently prayed to never be woken up from. But as her tipped French nails poked into the palm of her hand, she realised that all these things were happening and they were indeed, 100% true. As she neared him, she could feel the nerves and butterflies disappear and be replaced by a warm feeling of peace and serenity. Like a homecoming. And she is indeed at home now and forevermore. 

All she could do was focus on the heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Then, Toto’s warm hand wrapped around her own. Then, his face – his beautiful dark brown eyes so invitingly warm and intense, she felt caught in his gaze. Then, his gorgeous smile, told her just how happy he was. And slowly her heartbeat steadied, the deafening pulse quieted and she was gently grounded back into the moment with him. I am home, she thought. 

And not a second too early, because as she caught Fred’s expectant gaze, she realized that they somehow must’ve gotten to the part where they would exchange their vows. Y/n cleared her throat. The words came so easily – because they were true. 

“Toto. I must say this and I know it’s not a very romantic way to start a vow but I had a pretty much okay life before I met you.”

There was a low rumble of laughter in the crowd. Y/n smiled and took another deep breath before she continued.

“It’s not fantastic, just average like anyone else’s life out there can be, and I guess I was fine with it. With the thought of being a loner traveller in this lifetime. With the thought of never being the chosen one. Everything ate me up and made me believe it that way. Until I met you. I never expected to meet someone like you. I didn’t even think of someone like you to ever set foot in my life. Slowly, I get to know the beautiful person you are, inside and out. To be so lucky as to fall in love with you. I’ve found my new home, you – right here. And I couldn’t be more grateful to spend my life with you.”

She saw the moisture shimmering in his eyes and was sure that her own looked pretty similar. He smiled, before nodding at Fred and taking a deep breath. 

“ Y/n, my life was pretty much like yours before I met you. Except for all the noise, the hustle lifestyle and the demands of everything in my life,... Too much that there were days I thought it was going to swallow me whole. That was until we came across. I didn’t know I could ever admire one’s eyes this much, and just hearing your laughter and being with you made me feel at home. You called me your home, Schatz. Well, you are mine, too. As you have given me your hands to hold, so I give you my life to hold from this day forward.” 

Her heart beat steadily throughout his vows, but the tears that had been on the verge of slipping before now streamed freely down her face. There was nothing she could do about it. It was as though her love for this man poured out of her body because there was simply too much of it to be physically contained.

She was vaguely aware that Lewis stepped forward behind Toto and handed him something. Toto took the box and flipped it open, revealing two rings. Y/n gasped and swallowed an incredulous chuckle at the size of the diamond inside. Toto hadn’t proposed to her with an engagement ring, since he’d done it spontaneously one night, while they were still wrapped up in bed together. After, she’d told him not to get one, since she found a single wedding ring would more than suffice. Really, she should’ve expected that he would go above and beyond with it, knowing he would go feral in choosing her the perfect ring, with the biggest diamond, of course. He smirked at her reaction and picked the ring from the box, looking at Lewis expectantly. His friend chuckled.

“Okay, I feel kinda silly even asking after all of that, but here we go. Toto, do you Y/n to be your wife?” 

“I do”, Toto answered, his voice even and earnest, despite his smile. Then he slid the ring in place and lifted her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. 

“I love you” he whispered. 

That steady pulse from before was replaced by a frantic gallop, her heart almost jumping out of her chest at the touch of his lips. 

“And Y/n, do you take Grandpa Toto here to be your husband?”

There was another rumble of laughter from the audience, Toto however, acted as though he hadn’t even heard the quip, his eyes glued to her face, her lips. Waiting to hear her answer. As if he still couldn’t believe she’d agree. Silly old man. 

“I do“, she said. Then she plucked the other ring from the box, a simple gold band, and took Toto’s hand.

“And I love you too,“ she whispered and slid the ring onto his finger. 

They stood there and stared at each other, both smiling and silently crying, until Fred cleared his throat and even his voice sounded suspiciously tight with emotion. 

“Well, then with the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your wife now, Wolff.”

And then just only waiting for that moment, her husband did what he was said to do. 

 Everyone cheered, as Toto released Y/n just slightly, still holding her in his arms, as she grinned up at him. „Hey husband“, she whispered.

His heart felt like it had grown three sizes.

„Hey wife“, he answered, with a smile so wide it actually hurt.

The music turned up in the background and people jumped out of their chairs, charging towards them for hugs and kisses. Lewis was first since he stood right next to them. He clapped Toto on the back before twirling Y/n into one of his bear hugs, making her laugh as he lifted her off the ground. 

“Welcome to the fam, Mrs. Wolff or you prefer it as Mrs. Mercedes. Thank you for saving us from the wrath of him smashing  another pair of Bose’s headphones.”

“I’m more than happy too,” she answered with a wink towards Toto. 

Y/n’s friends and family were another matter, alternately sobbing blended with screaming here and there (happy scream, of course) as they essentially pried her from his hands. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave a little shrug while rolling her eyes, before trying to calm everyone down. As dramatic as them all, she felt whole with them here today. 

Half an hour later, most of the crying was done, and people had started mingling and dancing. And Y/n was finally back at his side, as he pulled her out onto the dancefloor for their first dance as wife and husband. 

„I missed you“, she murmured, sighing happily as she leaned into him, slowly swaying from side to side. 

He grinned.

„I missed you too, sweetheart. Almost broke that stupid rule and came to see you last night, but they almost sent a missing report so I pretty much couldn’t pull the trick of meeting at a secret place like Romeo and Juliet.“

“You want us to die. That’s not what I imagine a happily ever after ending is about, Toto. Did I just marry a crazy, old man?” 

“You did not say that.” He said, completely serious.

“Is that so?”

“Just so you know, wifey. This crazy, old man here fully intended to fuck you tonight. you look so perfect in this dress. Makes me wanna fucking ruin you.” 

She tilted her head as though she was weighing her options with a flushed face. 

“Hmm. That’s the kind of crazy I can handle. And you also aged just fine, husband. Also, you've already ruined me. I can't go five minutes without thinking about your hands on me, our bodies intertwined.”

Toto cursed quietly, already feeling himself harden in his suit. Not an ideal situation, with everyone watching them spin around in slow circles on the dance floor. 

“Oh, Schatz, you can’t say this in public without expecting me to get all hard up.”

Y/n hummed quietly and leaned closer, sliding her hand down his back and pressing her soft body against his torso.

“Rewards come to those whose patience, husband of mine. I promise you there will present for you to open tonight.”

After making the rounds, taking turns dancing with their friends and family, posing for photos and indulging in the food, Toto's patience was running thin. Although surrounded by family and beloved friends, Toto felt increasingly impatient. The wedding felt like an eternity and a huge distraction from the real reason they were all there: to witness Toto and his bride say "I do." He now started to wonder where his wife had gone since she disappeared 15 minutes ago. 

“Have you guys seen my wife?” Toto asked Lewis, Sebastian and George. 

“You really enjoy saying that, huh?“ George teased.

“I think she went upstairs to freshen up, maybe,” Lewis said.

[enderfenderdragon]

can you do tamaki amajiki with a breeding kink? Would also prefer some scenes of him being a switch.

yeah sure, i did make the reader female. is that okay? this is the first request i ever have had, so thank you. hope you like it! :D

also i realised i didn't really do the breeding kink, i just found it hard to write for. i'm so sorry, i know it was what you requested. but i tried to make up for it. i really am sorry. :(

--------------------------------

warnings!: dom!tamaki amajiki, sub!tamaki amajiki, dom!reader, sub-ish!reader, p in v, smutty (kind of), reader is a female. (sorry if you don't like that.) use of y/n. use of bunny (tamaki calls reader 'bunny') not proof read!.

-----------

if you don't like the sound of the warnings please do not put in your opinion, please leave the comments, likes and reblogs for the people who like my posts and work.

--------------------

you moan his name and his thrusts speed up.

"am i doing good?" he asked looking into your eyes with affection and lust.

"y-yes, s-so good" you reply moaning his name once more.

you and tamaki have been at it for about an hour. him switching from being a sub to a dom then a sub again, it seems he likes to be submissive at the hands of y/n. who would of known? one of UA's big three was submissive with his partner.

you hear tamaki growl like a wolf and flips you over to your under side (belly). he starts beating his cock deep inside of your tight walls.

"a-ah!" you moan from surprise.

your moans and cries only make tamaki become even more dominate. but once he starts to get a little too ruff you tell him (more like beg him) to slow down.

"t-tamaki! t-too r-ruff!" you cry. back arching as

his eyes widen and his thrusts stop at once when he heard you cry. apologises and asking if your okay spill from his mouth.

"oh my god, y/n are you okay? i-im s-so sorry, b-baby im sorry" he quickly whispers.

he quickly and gently flips you over and cups your cheek.

"a-are you o-okay? i-im so so s-sorry. p-please f-forgive m-me." he whispers to you. resting his knees on the bed near your feet. his body stiff with anxiety.

you cup his hands on your cheeks.

"y-yes, you were g-great." you whisper back.

his whole body relaxes when you whisper this. you move one of your hands from his hand on your cheek to his cheek.

"b-but you did become a little too ruff. you have to remember, im not as strong as you tamaki" you say to him, voice stern. trying to make him realise or remember that you are indeed, smaller then him.

"i-im sorry b-bunny" he pulls you into a hug. you quickly hug him back and sigh.

"how about we just watch a movie hmm?" you say into his ear making him shiver, also making you laugh.

"d-dont laugh a-at m-me. i-it's n-not funny." he pouts.

"y-yes it is, it so is." you say back to him ruffling his hair.

you stand up and walk to your shared bathroom. you have a shower, and then tamki has a shower. while he is having his shower you get the snacks, the movie, the blankets and all the extra things you need when having a movie night with tamaki.

your sitting down thinking: 'why did tamaki growl, then flip me over. then start beating my pussy? is he okay? is he annoyed at me?'

your thoughts get interrupted when tamaki steps out of the shower, playing with his hair as a way of 'drying it' he calls it.

"hey" you hear him say.

tamaki crawls towards you on the bed, cupping you cheeks.

"w-whats on y-your mind b-bunny?" he asks tilting his head the way you always found adorable.

you sigh, looks at him through your eye lashes and takes a deep breath.

"why did you suddenly become very dominate and very ruff with me?" you ask, your voice small just above a whisper. afraid anyone would hear what you asked.

tamaki's face becomes a firing mess and he quickly covers his face with his hands.

you laugh and cup his hands, gently making him let you see his very red face you ask again. but instead of hiding his face tamaki mumbles so quiet you don't hear him.

"tamaki, hunny i didn't hear you." you say quietly back.

the next few words that escapes tamaki amajiki's mouth make your whole body stiffen and your face becomes hotter then a volcano.

"i-i was t-trying to b-breed y-you" he mumbles.

@the-little-devils-chaos

[leclercskiesahead]

“If you woke up as your teammate one morning, what would be the first thing you would do as him?”

“I know what you would do, which is postpone the alarm. You are such a sleepy guy…”

…

His alarm rings and he blindly reaches for his phone out of habit, brain not even fully awake.

His hand doesn’t find the phone immediately as the ringtone begins to annoy him in his dream, and he grabs desperately to turn it off.

“Mate.”

He must have rolled to one side in his sleep. The bedstand feels further than he remembers, his hand smacking the softness of the sheets and pillows instead.

“Oi, cabron.”

Carlos sounds a bit strange in his dream. And dares to smack his hand before grabbing it.

Oh, they must have swapped sides during the night somehow. No wonder he can’t reach his phone. He must have been grabbing Carlos’ face.

Charles groans as he wrestles his hand from Carlos’ grip. It doesn’t take much of a fight since they are both barely awake, and as soon as it is free he throws his arm over his eyes.

His hairy arm.

Hadn’t he shaved recently? Or maybe it was his hair getting too long.

“Mate, what the fuck.”

Carlos’ voice - the speech is like Carlos’ but the voice doesn’t quite sound like his, not as deep and accent garbled with something else - is what makes Charles finally blink open his eyes.

What the fuck indeed.

Charles jerks up and barely catches himself with his arm - a very tan, very hairy arm - as he stares at his own body sitting up next to him.

They had not switched places during the night. Or they had. Kind of. Not really.

“Fuck,” Charles echoes, voice deeper than he’s ever been able to reach. He slowly feels himself down, the body that is so familiar to him yet unfamiliar from this perspective.

“Mate…” he mutters, and looks up again. He is — Carlos, in his body, is staring at him, at Charles, in Carlos’ body. Carlos’ body that Charles - as Carlos - had just ran his hands over. Oh. Charles realised how it looked.

Carlos - because even wearing Charles’ face and having Charles’ voice, he is still Carlos - holds his gaze. And somehow Carlos still manages to put the force of his deep dark stare behind Charles’ lighter eyes. Charles watches, entrapped, as Carlos’ - his - hand slowly trails down, past the loose blanket that falls aside, and carefully wraps around his cock.

Oh, is that how he looks when…

Carlos - as Charles - blinks and also turns to stare at the length in his fist. He pauses and frowns.

“If I wank now am I giving you or myself a wank?”

Leave it to Carlos to think about these things and make them both have a crisis.

Fortunately, Charles doesn’t think much. Especially not this early in the morning. His - Carlos’ - hands move before he knows it, grabbing his own and Carlos’ - or Carlos’ and his own - members.

“Now it doesn’t matter,” he says.

It never does when their bodies are pressed so close he loses all sense of where he ends and Carlos begins anyway.

[avocado-writing]

notes: a request from @silcosmoke who then went and did a version of this fic which is 🔥read it here!

rating: T

pairing: aziraphale x reader

cw: sexual harassment

Aziraphale’s hand is warm on your leg, protective, and ever so slightly possessive. Not that he’d admit to that last part, he’s an angel after all, and greed is unbecoming. But he does like that you are his.

“My round,” you say, noticing your glasses are empty. Aziraphale opens his mouth to object and request that he should buy again, but you press a finger to his lips before he can speak. He is silenced, smiling, and you head to the bar.

It’s a busy day, so you insert yourself in the crowd and try to make eye contact with the bartender. In fact, you don’t even notice someone has pushed in next to you intentionally until they start speaking.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

You look around, confused, before you realise he’s talking to you. He’s slurring his words, clearly a few pints deep already, and getting far too close for comfort.

“Can I help you?” you ask, not terribly upset yet, more annoyed. That changes when he lurches forward and presses his body into yours.

“Yeah, darling, actually I reckon you can…” he leers, his face disgustingly close to yours. 

“Leave me alone, mate, I’m here with someone.”

The drunk clearly hasn’t realised. He’s too off his face to really know what he’s doing. That’s not an excuse or an apology, though, and you’re getting very angry.

“Fuck ‘em. Come on, let me get you a drink, looks like you know how to have some fun…”

You can smell the cheap lager on his breath, and when he reaches round to grab a handful of your arse, you shove him.

Well, you go to shove him. Aziraphale gets there first.

You’ve never seen him angry. Irritated, yes, miffed that you’ve had the last chocolate from the Milk Tray, but this is entirely different. There is hellfire in his eyes as he sweeps across the floor of the Dirty Donkey, grabbing the drunk’s collar with clenched fists, and smashing him down into the bar. He does so with such force that some of the wood cracks.

“What the fu–”

“I believe,” Aziraphale says levelly, “that you were asked to leave my companion alone.”

There is silence now, it has descended onto the pub like a heavy snowfall. Nobody has ever seen Aziraphale, cheerful if aloof A Z Fell, at the end of his tether like this. The drunk squirms. The angel grips his shirt tighter. It begins to rip around his knuckles.

“Alright, fuck, I’ll go…”

“Apologise.”

“What?”

Aziraphale nods over to you.

“Apologise. Nicely.”

The drunk looks up at you, properly terrified now.

“I’m s-sorry.”

Azirphale looks to you for confirmation that you’re happy with this. You give a small nod and the angel releases him, stepping back and dusting his hands off.

“Well I think you’d better–”

Before he can say ‘leave’, the drunk has disappeared, leaving a trail of wood chips and splinters in his wake. Aziraphale watches him until he’s out the door, then turns to the bartender.

“I am so sorry, please do let me pay for your bar to be fixed…”

You listen to Aziraphale sort out the details, feeling… strange. You’ve never seen your angel do anything like that. Eventually the hubbub returns to the bar and, rather than stay for another drink, the two of you decide to return home. You get to the alley beside the bar when you pounce on him, pressing him up against the alley wall and sealing your mouth on his. You’re just enough sheltered from the main street that nobody can see you, but it’s public enough that you can feel it revving Aziraphale’s motor. He accepts your kiss with enthusiasm, his touch a welcome one as it alights on your hips.

“What’s this for?” he asks, breathlessly, when you part. You grin.

“Never had someone defend me like that before. Quite liked it. Wanted to say thank you.”

And as you sink to your knees you can think of a very good way to thank him indeed.

taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul @@foolishprincipalitee@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2@clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo@mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke@kimqueenofhell@chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t@am-i-obsessed---maybe@bakerstreethound

[sofasoap]

Little first meet

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: How a mohawk Scottish man meet his bonnie bear

Warning : M rating. use of alcohol. flirting. A/N: Three glasses of wine in, half asleep I just want to spew their awkward first meeting out.

Part 7 of Little Bear series Masterlist

“Hello bonnie, are you new here?”

Glancing to the left, and to the right.  There’s no one else sitting beside you. Is he talking to you?? There must be some mistake. Surely this handsome stranger with a very exaggerated mohawk hair right in front of you isn’t trying to start a conversation with you. Or God forbid, trying to flirt with you????

“... You talking to me?” you asked in a weak voice. 

He chuckled as he flashes you a wide toothy smile, “Who else would it be? The most beautiful person in the whole pub.” gesturing to the stool beside you, “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Um, sure?”  You can feel the tip of your ears starting to burn. Fidgeting with the pint of beer in your hand, your mind started racing. Maybe he is just bored, or maybe he had a bet with his friend on how many people they can chat up with tonight in this pub.

This is the first time you left your hometown. First time in a brand new environment and you are a nervous wreck. 

You only moved to Credenhill a few weeks ago after getting a new job with a civilian company that has connections to the military that is stationed in the area. 

You have thought deep and hard before deciding to make that huge leap in your life, after seeing all your friends moving on with their life, achieving so much. And there you are, still living in your comfort zone. 

Tonight, you decided to check out the local pub that your new workmate had suggested with a good atmosphere and food. You had nothing better to do anyway on a Friday night.

“Maybe you will get lucky and some soldiers will hit on you!” They joke. “I had quite a bit of luck meeting some quite sexy soldiers. And I can assure you they have pretty good … stamina.” Winking and giggling away as you lower your head in embarrassment. 

Awkward silent bubble surrounded both of you as the bolstering noise of drunken pub goers around you continued.  You never had anyone hitting you before (He is flirting with you, right?)  What do you do in this situation? Who should start a conversation? Is it proper etiquette to look into their eyes or should you look away?

As your brain runs through all the possibilities and solutions, the mohawk man broke the silence and restart the conversation.

“So, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you here for a visit or?? I don’t imagine anyone will be here for sightseeing purposes.” Taking a sip from his own beer, he asked. “And it doesn’t look like you are waiting for anyone to join you either.” 

Good observant skill, you noted. “Um.I just moved here. Few weeks ago.” Shyly taking a peek at him as you bring your glass up for a sip for a drink, you realise you have a set of steel blue eyes. Beautiful steel blue eyes, drawing you deeper into his soul. 

Great, now you are gawking on him. 

His eyes brighten up as soon as you mention you are a new resident here.

“Well I hope you are settling in well. I must apologise that this little village has nothing to offer apart from basic amenities and boring soldiers.” he chuckles. 

“ And you are one of them?” you blurted out as your eyes caught a glimpse of his dog chain in his half buttoned up shirt. You slapped your mouth as soon as the sentence left your mouth. 

“Sorry. Not meaning to be so rude..” Embarrassment and anxiety starts bubbling up. That is one thing you are not good with. Socialisation. It’s either you don’t know how to carry on a conversation or letting your mouth run without thinking. Way to make a good impression with people. You thought.

Mohawk stranger laughed. “ I am indeed one of them. One of the best at boring your brains out. .” he smirked, “Although I am not as boring as my team mate Ghost.” 

“Ghost?” “Not his real name. That’s his call sign. He usually bored us to death with his dad jokes. Or our Captain. Nagging non-top most times like a mother hen. Don’t get me started on Gaz. He is too stiff for his own good sometimes.” 

“They sound like very interesting people.” You let out a little laugh. 

“Depending how you look at it.” He smiled. Pausing slightly as he thought for a second, “If you like, I can introduce them to you. Next time.” He looked at you in earnest. 

“Next time?” Your eyebrows arched up. There’s next time?

“Only if you want, bonnie.” smiling softly, “You look like you need some friends.” Noticing you stiffening, he winced as he straightened his back slightly. “Sorry. I meant no offence with that. I just thought you might want to make new friends in this new place.” 

You fidget in your seat even more. Can you really trust this man that you only just met tonight? 

And what is that good old warning people kept saying to you, never get involved with military personnel. They will surely break your heart. 

Still noticing your hesitation and discomfort, he hastily added, “If it makes you feel more comfortable, my sister is visiting soon. I can bring her along too. She is the one who usually keeps us all in check. Also to keep my blabbering mouth shut as well.” 

“But.......” 

“But?”

“... I don’t even know your name.”

Mohawk man opened his mouth for a second and closed before he slapped himself in the forehead. 

“Where are my manners? Let’s start again.” holding his hands out,

“John MacTavish. But people either call me Johnny or Soap.”

You later find out Johnny isn’t usually the type to introduce his close knit group right from get go. 

“I fell hard for you that day, Bonnie bear. Something in my heart tells me I must approach that lonely bonnie that is sitting in the corner all by herself and woo her with all my might.”

“Well luckily you didn’t use any of your lame pick up lines..”

“Aww Bonnie bear. I am sure you will still fall for the charming me nevertheless.”

“Sure sure… “

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana @deadbranch @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator

@random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @roosterr @brewed-pangolin @groguspicklejar

[k-hotchoisan]

the last of the real ones (san x fem!reader)

✨🌸100 followers special🌸✨

Synopsis: you awaken from a three centuries slumber, sealing yourself after being almost sacrificed to be the next heavenly offering, your memories barely intact, and now you realise the world is almost completely destroyed. You have no choice but to find out what happened.

Genre/warnings: (soft) general smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, lowkey emotional, San is a supervillain, hero X villain, VERY light mentions of death

Word count:

A/n: feel the feels yall, as a treat for 100 followers! Thank you so much for the support 😭🌸 I’m happy you all enjoy fics so far. There’s definitely more to come. As always, reblogs are appreciated ❤️

You feel your heavy eyelids as you struggle to open them. Your limbs are almost completely paralysed and heavy, as you stirred from your deep slumber. You felt like you had a very, very long nap for some reason. Your body is still very weak and you barely muster the strength to push yourself to sit up.

You almost slam back onto the cushioned bedding beneath you from the lack of strength, but you managed to sit up, soaking in the environment around you. At first glance, the place around you was indeed in ruins—flora creeping up the pillars, attempting to overtake the seemingly ancient-looking architecture around you. Dim sunlight pours—albeit barely—into your resting place, and the plants fight for it, extending their vines and leaves upwards the pillars, reaching out for the hiding sun.

Pin drop silence surrounds you. Something doesn’t feel right. You muster enough energy to push yourself off the marbled pedestal and onto the floor, wincing at how cold the floor was. Undoubtedly, something about being able to touch the ground with your bare feet comforted you. It was as if you hadn’t done this in a long time. The small plants pushing out from the path tickle your feet as you take small steps to wherever your feet decided to take you.

Everything is eerily calm as you pace through the temple-looking structure, your mind still blank and in a state of confusion. Your legs lead you to an old library of some sort, now obviously almost unrecognisable considering the decay and ruin evident. Books strewn across the once pale coloured marble tables and floors, opened, their text faded. You kneel down, taking the book into your hands, trying to decipher the text before you. You’ve never seen the text before but somehow you’re able to understand the language. A lingering dread of familiarity begins to tug in you, and you do your best to ignore it.

The text mentions something very generic—something about the architecture of the temple, and sketches—stained with age—are littered across the pages. This still does not answer the questions in your head.

Your gaze catches onto a book buried beneath a heap of rumble, as its magic hums through you. You rush over, and the book seemingly pulls itself out, and sits comfortably between your hands, and like the others, survived and ordeal of something.

It was a journal of some sort, definitely sealed with magic—magic you realised you harnessed as the book flutters open to a page. You sit down on the dusty floor, the long dress sweeping across the ground. But whatever was in the book, you could not comprehend at all.

Written in the same language, your confusion only deepens as your eyes scan through the text. The entries were dated to—at least three entire centuries ago.

<they said they’d keep me here, in order to be safe, so as not to anger the celestials. they have not mentioned anything else.>

<the truth is, they know. they know I yearn to see him again, and they want to keep me here, so he doesn’t come for me. but I am anything but afraid of him.>

Who was writing all of these, and why exactly? These questions, no one around to answer. You could only continue reading on, hoping there would be anything, anything, to answer the countless questions swimming through your head.

<they sealed the temple when the celestials came. they asked many questions, and I overheard them mentioning about a heavenly offering to them because the lambs were not enough. they fear they will grow greedy and ask for me.>

<they were right. the celestials had something off about them—I can feel it. something is not right. I just want to see him again. one more time. I don’t care if I’m ripped into shreds should I defy them>

<their eyes looked ravenous—are they corrupted? I can barely tell. the magic of the grail is luring more of these things in. but destroying it would mean the end.>

<it rained blades, demons and blood. the seal could barely keep them out. they were corrupted, and wanted to consume the grail, for power. Yeosang…he pushed me away, even though I told him I could hold them off. he knows they were coming for me and the grail. I’m not scared, Yeosang.>

You breath hitched in anxiety. Questions that were answered only formed more questions, and your fingers begin to tremble at each entry your eyes land on.

<it hurts. I broke the grail and these entities let out the most blood curling scream. breaking the chalice was the only way to stop the madness. I know the consequences. I feel everything being ripping out of me, and I don’t think I can make it. I lied to him. I told him I never want to see him ever again. his expression had broken me into a million pieces, but if he knew about this, he would never let it go.>

<this may be my last entry. the seal I held up is using every ounce of my energy. before I perish, I’m sorry. I love you. I always will. the world will soon begin to be obliterated, but you will be fine. forgive yourself. maybe in another life, another world, we will find each other again []>

That was the end of the journal, the name or whatever soaked in splatters of dried blood. You shut the book and the sense of unease only intensifies. You pray that whoever this person was, found peace. They probably really loved whoever this nameless person was since the remainder of the entries were all love letters to said nameless person. They never once penned his name down, maybe afraid of their beloved to be implicated or something.

Nonetheless, there is something oddly familiar as you trace the blank journal cover with your fingertips. You decide to hold onto it.

As you continue to traverse the area, finally leaving the large library, was only when you realise how everything was worse than it seemed. The ruined temple seemed tame compared to whatever the fuck had happened outside.

There was barely anything. Everything looked completely destroyed—the surround pillars and statues, once stood proud and tall, were smashed and broken, half of top just gone. The air had gone a lot more stale and almost ominous, the sky, which you thought to have a little bit of sunlight at least when you were in the temple, could no longer be found, each area of the sky covered in thick, purple smoke and clouds—whatever it was.

Across the distance, you see a couple of buildings—maybe some sort of civilisation still remained, and it doesn’t look like a very long walk. As you begin your journey, something shiny catches your eye, and you walk over to it. At a glance, it was simply a sword or some sort that had pierced the dead ground, covered in some sort of misma at its blades. The handle showed wear, wrapped in some sort of cloth. But the glint hadn’t come from the blade of the sword, or the sword at all. As you near the abandoned weapon, it was only when you realise that it was from a silver brooch hooked onto the sheath—a small flower shaped topaz jewel, connected with a chain to two letters—YS—carved in silver. Something stings in you. You gently pick the brooch up, placing it close to your lips before keeping it between your palm.

You continue your way, taking in the aftermath of destruction after each step, your heart feeling melancholic. There was definitely so much life that once ruled before all of this destruction happened.

It didn’t take you long before you reached said town, or city, whatever it was supposed to be, evidently now absolutely unrecognisable. Neon signs barely worked, flickering every few seconds, debris strewn everywhere, the thick purple fog hiding everything in its path. You could hear sniffles and cries but you dare not approach, deciding to leave said people—or entities be. Other than that, that had been the only thing accompanying you other than the dreadful silence. It was cold. The city was cold. Night or day, you could not tell. It seemed like everything was permanently at this state of stagnation. How long has it been like this?

Walking deeper into the city, more coughs could be heard, but whether it was human or not, you think it’d better not to pry too much into it.

Clutching the journal and brooch tightly to your chest, you press on, another neon sign catching your eye. It looks like a shop or some sort, albeit looking run down, obviously. You stare into the windows, looking for signs of life in there. The lights were dim, and the sign was flipped to “closed”. Something was drawing you into this place. Almost like magic. You gently push the door open, and the bell rings softly. The owner or whoever doesn’t seem to have notice you yet. No one was at the counter.

“Hello?” You call out. As you did, you feel the magic swirling around you, and it hums in your ears, feeling so familiar. But you still could not remember anything.

“We’re closed,” a voice echoes from the back. The figure emerges out, in a maroon cloak, and he stops in his tracks, his expression unreadable. You stare back at him and now slightly. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was drawn to this place-“

“Y/n.” He says, in disbelief, cutting you off. “You’re not dead”, which sounded more like a statement than a question

“I’m not”, you reply. The man pulls his hood back, his features coming into full view. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of grey, had an androgynous-looking face, looking both beautiful and handsome at the same time. His hair was pulled into a short ponytail. He looked pretty worn out. It all feels so familiar.

“Yeosang” came out of your lips as you stared at the man before you, and you were surprised at how automatic it almost was.

Everything is slowly flooding back to you. Yeosang’s expression was a mix of emotional and relief. He rushes over the counter as he pulls you into a tight hug, and you hear soft sobs. He pulls away after awhile and his face, tear-stained, still looking beautiful despite that.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“No, I’m sorry. I called out your name on instinct for some reason. My brain is still racking to remember.”

Yeosang doesn’t seem fazed. “No worries. What’s important is that you’re alive and okay. Tell me if you need me to fill you in what happened. It’s been three centuries since I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widen. What the fuck. Three whole centuries?

“How did I… Who are you…” and suddenly all the questions you once had just disappeared, and you were unable to voice anything out. You decide to just open your palm, the crystal brooch twinkling under the dim lights. Yeosang gasps as he slowly reaches out to take the accessory from your hands.

“It’s…yours, isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is. Where did you find this?”

“Hanging off an abandoned sword outside of the temple.”

“Right”, a sad smile spreads over his face. “Back then, we were fighting off the monsters, and I barely made it out, one of them had ripped it out of my armour. I fought back and killed him off. It was tiring and it took a lot out of me, clearing them in waves. I wonder who placed it on my sword,” he wanders as he leaves it on the counter.

“Where did you go after that?” You ask, your eyes fixed into the brooch.

“After the war, I fled to recuperate in the outskirts since the temple was horrendously destroyed. Many of the immortals perished, only a handful of us scattered across the universe.”

“What happened to me? I woke up, in a daze, the only one who remained in the temple”, you ask again.

Yeosang sighs, his lips thinning. “You, shattered the grail despite knowing the grave consequences. It ripped out almost all of your energy—including your magic and memories. But you still went into hiding, sealing yourself with the last ounce of magic you still had in you because the celestials knew you could still be a heavenly offering.” He shakes his head. “But we all knew, there would be chance that you would never wake up, ever again. And you knew that yourself.”

Your head pounds at the information overload. It doesn’t take you long to realise that the journal had belonged to you. It was still hard to believe, let alone comprehend the situation.

“I’m glad you’re alive, y/n. It’s been too long. You’re always invited here. I hope your memories come back soon”, Yeosang’s lips presses into a pretty smile as he takes your hand into his. You feel a small burst of magic surge through your veins. Your mind is still clouded, but the sense of familiarity and comfort floods into you as you stare back at Yeosang.

“I passed you a little of my energy. I haven’t been able to cultivate enough because of how unstable the universe has become after the holy war. But hopefully this is enough.”

You feel your heart warming up as your hands did too. “It’s more than enough, Yeosang. I’m glad to have met you again”, you smile.

Yeosang feels comforted by this and his eyes suddenly lit up as he goes into the back of his store. He comes back quickly, and has something in his hands. He opens his fingers and it was a thin silver ring, encrusted three small rubies, hanging on a silver chain.a

“What’s this?” You gingerly pick up the jewellery, taking a closer look at it.

Yeosang doesn’t answer your question, rather, he only says, “you should go see him. I’m sure he’s been waiting for you longer than I was.”

“Who?”

Yeosang laughs. “You’ll know when you see him. Trust. Though it might be really overwhelming for you, because after all, he was the one who’s destroying the world now.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant. Why do you sound so calm saying that?” You frown.

“Because as much as that sounds bad, he is still a really good friend”, he responds, his chin resting on his palm.

“He doesn’t sound like a good person”, you murmur, wondering if you were missing something.

“I never said he was. But really, you’ll know when you see him. Send him my regards.” Yeosang adds, shooing you away with his hands. “The ring will guide you.”

You turn to him for a final time. “Stay safe Yeosang. I’ll come by again when I can.”

“As you do too, y/n.”

You step out of Yeosang ‘s shop, your heart feeling a mix of nostalgia. You feel tears well up at the corner of your eyes, and you quickly wipe them off. The memories were slowly coming back to you, in small trickles. As you feel at a loss of where to go, magic buzzes weakly at your fingertips, you could barely make it out—a faint, red pulsing trail of magic swerves through the thick fog. Your fingers fidget with the necklace that hid in your palm and you thought maybe you should just follow the trail, since there was nothing else you could do.

As you walk, the dystopian environment was slowly something your eyes were slowly adjusting to. However, your head was still swirling—shocked at how a singular person could have caused such grave damage to the world, on top of going through the holy war. Well, Yeosang didn’t deny that he wasn’t a good person, so there’s that. The only issue was that the deeper you followed the trail, the more dystopian and unsettling the environment gradually became—thick and thorny plant roots and veins stretch across the path, the fog getting even thicker and heavier, the magic and corruption almost nauseating, though it feels vaguely familiar. Despite that, for some reason, it doesn’t terrify you. It was as if you’ve been here before.

As the world gradually falls apart before your eyes, you do your best to avoid falling debris that tumble violently past you, looking up at the dark skies, lightning parting the thick and heavy clouds, and you think to yourself, maybe this was meant to happen as the world had to carry the sins of the celestials, who got corrupted because of greed.

Up ahead, the path only got steeper—there is no walkable path up, as only crumbles of wreckage left behind serves as your only leverage to continue following the trail. You take a breath in, braving through getting abrasions from the concrete, stone, or whatever hard material you had to push yourself up to.

It takes awhile to reach to the top, and you see the whole of the neo city in full view, or at least, the remains of it, covered in the thick fog. The trail abruptly ends past another path of rubble and you follow through.

Your eyes land on a human-like silhouette, who was seated with a knee propped up to support his arm as he looked down at the city as well, his black wings folded neatly and his raven hair blowing against the wind. He seems to have sense you, and his head turns, his sharp eyebrows furrow. He was insanely gorgeous, no doubt about it, but you feel like you have caught him at a bad mood, the way his dark eyes are piercing daggers into you. But then, that expression disappears almost instantaneously the moment his eyes meet yours, and his gaze softens immediately, his eyes widen, seemingly in disbelief.

His posture changes, as he slowly gets up. You spot the tension in his hands. His eyebrows were still furrowed, and his breathing quickens. For a moment, the both of you only stare at each other, one in confusion, the other one in disbelief.

“Y/n?” He was the one who breaks the silence first, as he inches closer, still cautious. You stay rooted to where you were, still sifting through your memories as to where you saw him before.

“You’re alive?” He stands at a distance from you, afraid to come closer, and you see his eyes starting to glaze over, and a tear trickles down his pretty face. He starts walking to you, and you brace yourself for what he’s about do to you.

And he pulls you into a tight, almost suffocating hug.

His voice trembles and breaks as he tries to force his words out despite his flowing tears. “Fuck. Did you know how fucking long I was waiting for you? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide the war from me?”

He pulls back, staring at you, his gaze almost crazed, his grip tightening on your shoulders. “I never forgave myself all these years. I know you hate it when I become destructive but I couldn’t help it…” His voice trails off when he sees the look on your face.

“Y/n?”

Before you could reply, the ruby ring glows and burns in your palm , and you wince in pain, dropping the ring and journal in the process. A soft, red glow of a sigil suddenly appearing on your finger, only to disintegrate immediately.

And everything starts to flood back—the holy war, your friendship with Yeosang, the stench of the corrupted celestials as they broke into the temple and clawed at you, the pain you felt as you destroyed the grail with your own two hands, and the final breaths you took as the seal completely formed on your finger.

No, there’s more. Way back, even further. Your gaze catches the man before you, and it more floods back. He was the villain. The villain who you had encountered and nursed back to health, despite his cold demeanour towards you when you found him lying there, gravely injured while he was fighting your own kind. The villain who you got yourself entangled with as time passed. The villain who you lied to and pushed away in order to protect him from the holy war.

“…San”, you murmur, your hands creeping up to his cheeks, feeling his skin under your fingertips. He continues to stare at you in silence, his breathing deepening.

“San,” you repeat again, more firmly this time, your tears invading your sight. He’s there right before you, in the flesh, staring at you the way you were staring at him. He looks as frantic as you are, maybe even worse.

“I’m here”, he whispers, pulling you in for another hug. “I’m always here.”

He pulls back again, and cups your cheeks before placing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting yourself melt against him.

As the both of you part, he pulls you into his chest, taking in you in the flesh, feeling you breathe softly against him.

When the both of you finally calm down (mostly from the crying), he finally speaks, as the both of huddle together, feeling the cold breeze, watching the destruction from afar.

“Where were you all this time?”

“I…sealed myself away into a deep slumber after breaking the grail. When the grail shattered, so did my magic and my memories. When I sealed myself, it pushed me into a deep sleep.”

“You were in deep slumber for the whole of three centuries?”

You nod, playing with his fingers, adorned with pretty silver bands. He takes your fingers, and intertwine them with his before lifting them to his lips, giving them soft kisses as he stares at you affectionately.

“You…didn’t mean what you said to me before you left right? About not wanting to see me anymore?”

You couldn’t help but smile apologetically when you see his solemn gaze. “No. I’m sorry for hurting you like that. I just would never want to drag you into this mess, and it would have been better if I didn’t have you involved. It was not your mess to clean. Are you upset about it?”

He shakes his head. “I would never be upset at you. I was upset at myself because I thought did something to hurt you.” He takes the ruby ring necklace and clasps it around your neck.

“Idiot”, you respond, bumping his head gently with your fist. Despite being a villain, San was nothing but. He was the softest around you despite the destruction he was capable of.

“Yeosang‘s running a small little trinket shop you know”, you suddenly say.

“Yeah, I know. He has a lot of pretty stuff there. Did you went to see him?”

“I think my remaining magic led me to him. I found his brooch on the sword he used to fight with.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I put it there,” San answers. “A century after the holy war, I saw it glinting on the battlefield, still unscathed for some reason. He had fled to somewhere else by then. I didn’t know where to find him so I just clipped it to his sword.”

“Yeosang’s gonna be so happy when he hears that”, you smile, already picturing your friend’s soft features. “He sends you his regards.”

A smile curls at the corner of his lips, and he stays silent for awhile.

“Why are you destroying the world?”

“It’s meant to be destroyed in atonement of the sins. The corrupted misma still lurks around, like a disease.”

Your gaze shifts to the dystopian world before you. Somehow it’s starting to look pretty, in a fucked up way, or maybe because you were with San, so nothing scares you anymore.

“Then do you stay here and watch the destruction permanently or do you have a place to sleep?” You tease. He purses his lips.

“Yeah of course. Being a villain is tiring, you know. Are you tired? You really walked a lot. Look at you, full of scratches.”

Now that he mentioned it, you didn’t realise how much your legs were starting to ache and sting from the walking and abrasions you got from trying to reach San.

“And who’s fault is that?” You pout.

San puts both his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’ll take care of you as compensation okay?” He gets up first, and his hands hold onto your arm for you to steady yourself as you stand. Then he sweeps you off in a bridal style.

His wings flutter open, jet black feathers falling like black petals around the both you. His gaze never once leaves yours. Then he looks off to the distance before taking off.

The both of you went flying from time to time, San always loved seeing your smile as you fawned over how the beautiful the scenery was.

He lands onto a balcony, which you deduce quickly that it’s his place of residence. It was neatly kept to say the least, and really high up. He probably liked looking at the scenery.

You kick your legs playfully, waiting for him to put you down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks into his place and right into the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet bowl.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll clean your wounds for you”, San says as he leaves the bathroom to get a fresh set of clothes for you. Undoubtedly, the dress you were in was already dirty, so were your limbs. You gingerly undressed yourself, wondering what to do with the soiled linen dress. You step into the shower and bask in the warm water that instantly relaxed you. When you stepped out, a set of fresh clothes sits on the sink. You dry yourself and put on the clothes, feeling pretty refreshed. You sit on the bed as San takes your feet, leveraging them in his knee as he dresses your small wounds.

Well, that is, until San had his hands all over you while you two were cuddling. His cock pressing right at your thigh, as he feels you up, kissing your head and the shell of your ears. His touches and kisses were desperate, trailing along your neck and biting you gently.

You sighed into his neck, the serotonin flowing through your chest. It felt so good having him close to you like this. His hand creep under the shirt and he squeezes your tits, and you melt under his touch, your soft moans egging him on.

He pushes you down onto his bed, pulling his shirt off and peppers you with more kisses, and a final deep one on your lips. He then pulls down his pants, and his cock is out as he grinds against you, his groans only encouraging your arousal to grow.

“I just woke up from a three century nap, San”, you smile as he bites down onto your ear lobe.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve had you”, he groans again, as he cock presses against your clothed pussy.

He pulls back and his gaze meets you, his expression needy. “Please? I’ll be gentle, I promise .”

You never really wanted to decline him anyway. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, whispering, “go ahead. You can ruin me.”

San’s heartbeat speeds up when he hears that, and he tugged your underwear down your legs, your cunt exposed to the cold air. San shifts down and positions himself right at your pussy and he licks a stripe up gently, looking at you for reactions. You let out a satisfied sigh as he continues to lick you up, flicking your clit with his tongue as he soaks in your soft cries. Your fingers slowly snake into his locks as you tried to grasp on anything. At the same time, you hear the sound of skin slapping from below, and you realise he was fucking into his hand as he ate you out. The thought of San jerking off from pleasuring you only intensifies the pleasure, and sparks flicker beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm slowly builds as you cry out San’s name like mantra.

“Fuck, San I’m so close,” you twitch, forcing your legs to stay on the bed to no avail. This only encourages San to speed up his tongue fucking in you and your arousal hits it’s peak, and you cry out as you came right in his face.

He shifts back, and he stares at your cunt pulsing at nothing as he continues to stroke himself, in a daze as he enjoys seeing your cunt fluttering, your cum leaking out of your hole.

San stops his masturbation, and he shifts forward this time, lining his cock to your entrance and he pushes in, whimpering at how tight your walls were clenching around him.

Your fingers claw at his arms as your back arches in bliss as he continues to push more inches in. Fuck. You forgot how good fucking him felt, and you sense that he felt the same way as his gaze looks lust-filled.

You definitely felt him holding back, from the way he pulls out and pushes in again with the utmost gentleness, in hopes that he doesn’t hurt you but there’s a limit to it, as you could tell he really wanted to just fit into you and make you cry and beg.

“You can go faster, San. It feels heavenly”, you sighed, feeling his cock push into every nerves in your walls, aching for more.

This time he picks up the tempo and fucks you a little harder, his grunts escaping from his lips.

“I missed this so much. I missed everything about you”, he barely manages out as continuously fucks you into the bed.

Your legs are trembling from the pleasure as the sound of wet skin slapping only riles you up further.

“I’m cumming”, he says, his thrusts become more erratic and harder as he’s desperately trying to chase his high.

“It’ll only be right of you to cum in me”, you tease, and San’s cock twitches as he hears that, releasing his load right into your tight pussy, so much that it starts leaking out of your abused hole as he’s still cumming in you.

“So good, so fucking good y/n”, he moans as his eyes roll back in euphoria. “I love you so much.”

You plant a kiss on his lips, returning his words.

The both of you sit in bed after he cleans you you up. San cuddles you from behind as the both of you gaze out to the ruins.

San suddenly takes your fingers into his, and he pulls out the ruby ring.

“Marry me”, San proposes as he slides the ruby ring onto your ring finger. “I don’t need anything else if I can have you.”

You lift your hand up to the sky, the ruby glistening under the dim lights as you turn to kiss San’s neck and reply, “for the rest of eternity.”

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

Good morning!

Minghao felt rustling on his bed when he saw his 4 year daughter trying to crawl the bed with her messy head he almost wanted to laugh at her state and how cute she looked but he realised you were still asleep ofcourse it was 6 am in the morning .

He helped Ellie in climbing the bed she soon made her way in the middle of bed while she hugged him closer trying to fall asleep while playing with his necklace , you woke just to see both of them cuddling each other .

You whispered ellie’s making her turn away from minghao’s grasp just so she could turn and hug you closer , minghao moved towards both of you squeezing Ellie with a tight hug and pampering her with his kisses .

“ Ellie you should sleep baby you have school in few hours and dada needs to go to shoot too”you said softly making a Ellie release a soft sigh you asked what’s the matter Ellie said she wasn’t in the mood to go to school and wanted to spend so time .

You disagreed what she said but you couldn’t ignore her puppy eyes while minghao was watching both of you he decided that he can take a half day and come home and they can have a lunch date together .

While you caressed ellies back and whispering I love you’s she soon fell into a deep slumber . Minghao had then suggested to make some space for him in your side of the bed so that he can cuddle you , carefully shifting Ellie she whines but soon falls asleep while you continue caressing her back . Soon hao was able to cuddle you . “Y/n .. let’s have a date night tonight…. It’s been days since we last went to a date” said minghao “but what about Ellie?” Minghao made sure that his parents are more than happy to have Ellie with them for the night .

Its been days since you last had sex , yours and minghao’s sex life was on fire those weird ass kinks of him , spiting kink and breeding kink and we’re too on the list while some days the sex ended with a slow pace with love you baby leaving from his mouth .

Minghao then woke up at 7:30 and was soon ready to go to the shoot silently leaving and keeping a note that he had left , he didn’t wake you up because you were sleeping peacefully. Ellie woke up soon after you while you were still on bed scrolling through your phone.

Ellie cuddled you and kissed your face wanting your attention , you then started her tickling and her giggles were heard all in the room . Ellie then wished you a very good morning .

Indeed it was a good morning .