#also of course he’d still be the blue spirit

[alildrifter]

A Zutara fic idea I probably will never write:

An AU where Zuko becomes the Fire Lord by killing his father (idk what to do about Azula?) after finding out that his mother was in fact dead (trauma lol) at his father’s command.

So it’s a Zuko that’s a lot more cold, a little more cunning/calculating— but here’s kind of why I wouldn’t write this in to a full fledged fic, I want to tie this Zuko with canon!Zuko somehow.

He’ll get flashes of canon!Zuko’s life— will see moments in between fitful hours at night, will see a red sky and hear his sister’s blood curdling screams— he’ll feel the shadow’s of a wound to a chest he doesn’t have and the warmth of someone’s thumb caressing his lips.

It’s maddening, but it affects his rule in a beneficial way? Like he doesn’t stop the war, he doesn’t have the proper backing (I don’t know enough about politics in a monarchy) but he does pause it. His council calls him the Fire Lord without honor (due to him keeping his hair shaven) but the people are grateful, and see things differently.

(He’s buff btw, like not Iroh busting out of prison buff but close— he also gets a tattoo in the center of his chest, but with the design as a center point to his other tattoos. He has a fair amount of them…)

Enter what makes this a Zutara idea 👉🏼

Katara is wary of the pause in the war— one could say she was even downright suspicious of the new Fire Lord and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It drops when a ship docks itself on their small community, a letter and a sneer on hand; an invitation to the Fire Nation.

Blah blah blah, a certain amount of details later— Katara’s in the Fire Nation, in the Fire Lords home and it’s a complete mistake when on her first night there away from her family and her home she encounters an intruder (it’s Zuko btw) in a mask of a legend and bleeding profusely on her temporary floor.

That’s about as far as I got before I was like, yeah I’m probably not fleshing this out.

[jgracie]

I WANT IT ALL

masterlist | rules

❝ hellooo !! i absolutely in love with your works !! may i request percy with the song “i want it” all by lana del rey, specially this part of the lyrics：“do you think you'll kill for me one day?" ／ “yes of course I will, my darling” ? perhaps a mention of dark percy ? 😋 ❞ — 🦇

in which percy would kill for you one day

pairing slightly dark!percy jackson x reader

warnings house of hades spoilers? that’s when this is set, violence (percy bloodbends)

on the radio . . . i want it all (lana del rey)

After experiencing Tartarus together, you couldn’t help but notice how Percy changed. He used to always be able to crack a joke, even at the worst of situations, lightening the mood and raising your spirits. However, now he’s more… serious. Tartarus seemed to harden him up - his eyes, once a bright aquamarine colour, were now of a dark blue-green hue, like the depths of the ocean that even Poseidon wouldn’t venture

You still loved him with all of your heart. He was your precious boyfriend, after all. And besides, you probably changed a lot too after that. Anyone would if they were forced to hallucinate their boyfriend abandoning them like you did. The image the Arai had planted in your head that day, a curse sent your way by a girl you didn’t even know, haunted you. You never wanted to feel that alone and isolated again

Percy knew this. It was part of the reason why he became more protective, more territorial. Watching you wander Tartarus aimlessly, your voice cracking as you begged for his touch and being able to do nothing about it shattered his heart. After that experience, he vowed to never let you out of his sight 

The other members of the Argo II could tell that something had changed between you, too. However, they kept a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in case they made it worse, unable to even fathom what you must’ve gone through in Tartarus

For the most part, though, your relationship was good. Other than the nightmares and protectiveness, the two of you stayed the same iconic couple you are, and as time progressed, Percy felt himself becoming more relaxed, no longer needing to be by your side every second of every day

That was until the ship got attacked. You’d been having a couple days of pretty safe travel ever since you got out of Tartarus, and while you did enjoy simply being able to catch up with all your friends on a boat in the ocean, you should’ve known that something would come along to ruin this for you

It was early in the morning, and you were on watch duty along with Leo, who was manning the ship whilst adding some updates to Festus. The salty air made you think of Percy, and you found yourself suddenly longing for his touch, knowing how much he’d enjoy watching the sun rise over the horizon

“You can go get Percy if you want, Y/N, I’ll be fine here,” Leo mumbled. For someone who claims he’s better at understanding machines than people, he sure was good at reading your mind. Recently, you noticed he’d also been acting differently. According to Hazel, he found a girl he loved (NOT calypso guys don’t worry 🩷) while he’d gone missing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring her with him

You thanked him and were about to make your way to your boyfriend’s room when you suddenly heard a voice yell, “I will take revenge on you, wretched son of Poseidon!” You turned, finding yourself face-to-face with none other than the bane of Poseidon, Polybotes

“You think you can just leave Tartarus as you please? I, Polybotes, will make you pay!” The giant continued. Your feet seemed to be cemented to the ground as you stared at the giant, mouth open in a mix of shock and fear. He was supposed to be in Tartarus, how could he possibly get here? Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace. Why were you stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you could relax until actually having to fight Gaia herself? 

“Y/N, look out!” Leo yelled, pulling you out of your trance. But it was too late. The giant picked you up, his nails digging into your back, forming crescent shaped gashes. Your nose scrunched at the smell of him as he took a good look at you before laughing (his breath smelled even worse. You had to fight the urge to vomit all over him)

Tears welled up in your eyes. You were completely helpless, with no weapon on you and your limbs still aching from your time in Tartarus. This was it. This is how you’d die. The giant was squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, black spots beginning to obscure your vision. You sent a quick prayer to your godly parent, asking them to keep your friends safe on the rest of this quest, before you succumbed to the darkness

The last thing you remember seeing is a flash of bright blue - the ocean

“Thank Gods you’re awake! We’re all so worried about you!” Hazel exclaimed as soon as your eyes were open. Looking around, you noticed you were in the makeshift infirmary section of the ship, bruises littering your body

You turned to face Hazel, your eyebrows furrowed, “what… happened?” You asked, trying to push your memories of the incident with Polybotes to the front of your mind, but ending up with nothing, “I remember I was captured by that giant, then I saw the water move, then… nothing.”

Hazel was suddenly incapable of holding eye contact with you, unsure if she should tell you what happened or not. In the end, she decided on the former, knowing you’d pull it out of Percy eventually if you had to

“The water moving was Percy’s doing. We all showed up after hearing the commotion and when he saw you in Polybotes’ clutches he went… kind of crazy. I’d never seen him like this before, Y/N, it was a little scary. He willed the water to move him up to Polybotes’ height and demanded he let you go. When he didn’t…” Hazel stopped for a second, shuddering. What did Percy do? After seeing the way he handled Akhlys in Tartarus, you knew there was a side of him that he kept buried deep inside. Did it come out again?

You placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s, giving her a kind smile which willed her to continue, “he started controlling Polybotes’ blood… he made him choke on his own blood, Y/N, we’ve been spending the past five hours cleaning that up.”

At the sound of voices coming out of the infirmary, Percy barged in, nodding at Hazel before holding you tightly in his arms. You hugged back, glad to see that he was okay. Smiling at both of you, Hazel waved goodbye and left, knowing you two needed a moment alone

“Hazel told me what happened,” you said once Percy pulled away, still keeping your hand in his. At this, he looked at the ground in shame, remembering how much his treatment of Akhlys had scared you in Tartarus

Rubbing circles into your hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N, my fear and anger got the better of me. I don’t ever want to lose you, you’re literally my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. Feeling your face become warmer as a bright smile made its way onto your lips, you said, “it’s alright, Percy. Thank you for saving me. I genuinely thought I was going to die then.” At this, Percy’s brows furrowed and the grip he had on your hand tightened

An aura of power exuded from your boyfriend, and when he said, “you wouldn’t die, not with me here. I’d kill for you, baby, you understand that, right?” You knew he meant it. If giants didn’t have to be defeated by both Gods and demigods working together, Polybotes would definitely be a mere pile of dust in Tartarus right now

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 2

Part 1

Warnings:- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise: Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 11 more chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

“We’re done for today.” The large man reaches for his robes. You don’t bother to move. Just breathing hurt. It was his off day and he was deciding to break you in, deciding to keep you for however long you were durable. He was amused with your reactions. He liked it. He found it interesting how you were also trying to survive. He’d play along as your god now. 

You lay in the bed and his finger prints stained your skin, each strike created blots of purple and blue and green. You liked bruises before, it showed how you fought for it. 

You apparently woke up two days later, and he lets you rest. Your body finally turns off survival mode for a second, just a second to adjust to the warm room. Four walls, the nice smell, it was just another thing you weren’t used to. Stillness. It was boring. But under these circumstances you were glad to have your own padded room to deal with this.

The time you were left alone, you didn’t know how long that would be. Another hour or so you’d think he’d come back in, hearing as you’re up. Time for more torture, though do torture victims get a bed and tended to? It felt more like you were a sacrifice, meant to appease him, though no one handed you over. 

You were brushed, scrubbed raw, and even felt a bit of shame for the way you were living compared to the two ladies who were taking care of you. But you didn’t know how long they’ve been in this line of work. Hell they honestly looked like they were born into it with the cold looks in their eyes. They could care less about your well-being, though they found and scrubbed every inch of you. Of course you didn’t want strangers to look at you, especially after such a moment that brought you here. To be real, these twins are probably the only people who knew you more than anyone you currently knew. 

Friends? You had a few, some to help you out sometimes, some to let you crash at their place. It was all fair game to the people you knew. Life was never easy for them and they knew of you being a free spirit. You didn’t leech off of them for you’d always show up with something in exchange, usually something you stole but it would never get traced back, it was either too common (but useful) or just something that would never be brought out of shown off. 

You weren’t a bad friend for it, if anything you were the perfect guest, though this time you didn’t mean to give yourself away for a few nights stay.

“I gotta get out of here, but where would I go? These people have already seen my face and I can’t tell how many more there would be. I can’t request anything to learn the layout of this place and no one will talk to me. If I leave I’ll have to run further and faster than I already have been…” You ponder more, sitting at the table placed in front of the window. 

They’re smart enough to know what I’d do if I wanted to pick a fight with their lord, of course there are guards at more doors, even under the window out your room, and it’s safe to say that there’s even a guard at each vent that’s connected to your room. 

“Why does it seem like I’m so special?” You sit and open the window, the guard below moves from his post to observe you on the same side has the other posted to view you. You look down at then and offer a wave, saying you’re not doing anything stupid, but you just wanted some air. One of them leaves, probably to get Sukuna. 

“I bet he’s just a lonely loser and I just happen to fall into his lap, or maybe I was one of many and was the newest. The girls here looked like they could be in the same position as you, though why weren’t they? They didn’t look like they were his blood, and there was no way that he could be their dad. That would make things even worse since you’re close in age as the twins. 

You see the guard go back to his post, nonchalantly. “Weirdo.” You thought. Not even a second later your room door whips open. Jumping from your place at the table, you turn and see who other than the man with the unpredictable entrances. “Finally up?” He leans on the door frame. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic for that.” He teased, being strangely familiar to you.

“Dude…” You caught yourself about to tell off this stranger. All you’ve known from him is that he’s having fun taking you and making you a toy, that his name was Sukuna and how everyone seemed under his control. Not that they enjoy it, but it didn’t look like anyone, even in their numbers, would stand up to someone like him. 

It still wasn’t apparent for you. He only told you his first name, his last could tell you that you were in even more danger than any “normal” man doing this to you. It could be such a metaphor but you’re literally trapped in the best place you’ve ever been. Was that just life? all the bad comes up when you’re supposed to be happy, and realizing how good you’ve had it as it gets ripped apart in front of you? The balance of it all only comes with ignorance, which was also why you wouldn’t get attached. You didn’t run to one person for everything you didn’t need more than what you’d ask for and that wasn’t much. If they were lucky you’d be there for 3 days at most. 

You lost your voice, his presence set in, bringing you out of your (if you can all it that) relaxed state. He notices you tense up, the look in your eyes begging him to give your body a break. He huffs and saunters into the room, taking a seat at the end of the bed, the side that’s facing you. “You had some time to clear your head, now tell me what was your intention. Playing dumb suits that pretty face of yours… But that’s not why I’m here.”

You sure knew nothing about this guy. Other than his name and how his body looked. How he felt was different, it just happened so fast that you could only remember how it lingered in your belly after he left you the second time. It wasn’t something you can forget, those were the best orgasms of your life. “Sukuna… I’m serious.” 

“You expect me to believe that? Did I hit you too hard?” You almost wanted to laugh, you saw stars and colors you couldn’t before his knuckles contacted your skull. Lifting his hand from his side to place under his chin made you flinch, a bit too hard for his liking apparently.  It took a lot for you to muster standing up on your own, much less realize you had to get to the table by needing support from the wall. It was like you were in an ice skating rink and had to hold onto the walls for dear life, except there was no ice, it was just pain in your body not letting you level yourself out.

“When you’re ready to talk, I might hear you out. My patience is thin you already know.” He stands and closes your door, sent a shiver down your spine. Him not being close to you, or hurting you, having this quick visit was so unsettling. 

It haunted you for hours. He didn’t touch you. The edge of the bed where he sat still held an energy, like he left a part of him right there to keep watch over you. 

He definitely hit you too hard, you were thinking more outlandish things to go with this scenario. Like why didn’t the touch you? You thought he was going to keep a pattern, that maybe after this he would come in periodically to taunt you. That maybe his patience has worn out and he was going to get rid of you any minute now, or to use you again. 

The trauma you got from this certainly messed with your self soothing methods. Every time you catch yourself hitting your peak of your self imposed orgasms, you were almost wishing you had more than just your fingers. You didn’t want him, but seriously its already been 2 weeks. You were gonna go crazy in here. The girls kept bringing you your meals, and a bathroom is attached, though you couldn’t do much by yourself. 

You were to let the others feed and bathe you, and you honestly hated it. It was way too weird, you never talked to them, and they never tried with you so it felt like there was an agreement to just not speak about it. That none of you were here willingly. That gave you some insight. Your body healed itself enough that you didn’t need the wall to walk anymore, making your trips to the table in front of the window more frequent. 

You notice some sort of schedule Sukuna follows, as well as a few other noticeable men in this kind of gated community. Whatever he has gong on here, it felt like you were almost a stolen princess locked away in a tower or something. “You have GOT TO get a hold of yourself.” You didn’t need to see a doctor or someone, you were fully aware that these thoughts were just you daydreaming to escape reality, yet again. Though this time it was getting boring, you couldn’t help yourself, literally. 

At this point you wanted to even ask one of the guards if they wanted to come in and help you out, but you didn’t have to do that, because a day later you decided to act. Rolling around night time, you decided to open your window a noticeable amount. By then the guards usually leave one guard to patrol the grounds in each quarter. 

The ones outside your door either end up sleeping or one leaves the other for a bathroom break, some nights they both go, probably to blow each other you thought. It wasn’t any of your concern, they did it before when you could barely move, but now you were agile again, enough to move around without hissing at each moment.

 Placing your ear to the door, you heard light snoring through it. “Okay, just find his room you thought. You knew that it took about 60 steps to reach a stair case, then that would be about 24 steps down. You could hear his footsteps through the pairs of others who followed him, as his echoed with pace, and the others almost scuttled behind them like bugs.. 

You find your way slipping past heavy wooden doors, making sure it wouldn’t creak, you saw the walkway in the garden. You looked up and saw your room, you knew it was yours as it was the only one with the window open. you knew that the guard just left this fourth of his grounds. You were searching the area for his room. Peering through the windows, it would have been hard to tell if it was him, but his tattoos were honestly unique. 

None of them were him, you go back to the walkway, going down the opposite end, just blindly working your way through. You couldn’t just walk through any door, it could be your last mistake, it being Sukuna or not. But it just had to be him, you wanted so badly to find his familiar face and just, you don’t know. 

You decide to be more ballsy, there’s surely no way he’s be in the same quarters that has this many people,” you decide to take your chance with the left corridor. “I wouldn’t take him for a cuddly guy anyway.” 

Listen, you know it sounds crazy, but if you even got to escape, you’d be hunted like a fox, unnecessarily, and as a spectacle for others to watch. But if you could find him, and do it yourself, “I mean, at least I’d die with something, and what a funny way to go.” You loved to joke about these kinds of things. Anytime it seemed dark, you’d find yourself cracking a joke or going off an other tangents from the barrage of thoughts coming your way.

You hold your breath as you set your fingers around the doorknob, you pull it back slowly, and turn it, to silence any squeaks it may have. After turning it fully, you let it go back and unclenched your fingers to let it go a second time, making sure there was no noise from the metal trap, and decided to go in. 

What fucking luck you had as if you broke into another room you’d think your breathing would start to give you away. As you head towards the bed, the raising figure laying there was him. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark, so much so that you could just stand in front of him. 

Looking down at him you wondered what you should do. You’re not going to kill him, that’s one thing, though you had nothing to lose, you still liked your life and you enjoyed whatever adventurous you got yourself into. It was always just one thing after the next and you’d rest when needed, but you loved it. 

This was totally different though. Before it was like you were born into this work and have to abide by its rules. As of right now you could do /anything/. What else would you do? 

You look down at him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to face him. Looking at his face like this, completely defenseless, his harsh eyes weren’t poking at you or telling you exactly what he was thinking. No he was just, he looked human. Like if you were to have met him at any other place it would possibly be on a magazine cover or an army recruitment booth posted wherever. 

“Damn bastard is beautiful.” You thought. “I didn’t get this far to stop now. Fucking 2 weeks you keep me here and don’t do anything? Do you know how boring that is? You can’t just keep me here and forget.” All that time alone had gone to your head, did you forget how he treated you the time you met? 

Tbh it fades in and out, your memory’s cut up pieces of film that randomly plays an old memory, and since you can’t recognize it, you call it a dream. 

Nothing could take you away from where you were now. Looking over him, still not a care in the world. Nothing could wake him if he’d allow it. You cocked your head to align your eyes with his, and reach out and brush your fingertips across his jawline. 

How much of this could you enjoy before he kills you for breaking out? Just that thought had you slowly leaning in, your hand before tracing his face was leaning onto the bed to support your intrusion. 

First, you kissed his forehead. The poor fuck probably hadn’t felt the touch of a real lover in ages, he just finds and uses whatever and whoever he wants, whenever. Of course you didn’t pity him, but does he even know what being loved properly was like? You’re really one to be asking. 

You peck the smooth, hot skin, and kissed a line across his cheek, getting more sensual with the next. His touch, even sleeping was still so manly. His body was so, honestly the words seem odd, but he looked so edible. Like you almost couldn’t keep your lips off of him. He was so yummy when you get a good look at him. 

Cupping his face, your lips reach his, beginning to lightly stimulate the connection. You lean in further, applying yourself onto him, guiding open his mouth with yours as you lick his lips. This shit was getting you so excited, considering all that he’s done to you, having this moment, where you’re in control and he was at your mercy, and only you know this.

Continuing to make out with your kidnapper, you moved yourself to get on top of him. His lazy reaction of kissing back had you think he was a deep sleeper, god you really wished. 

You opened your eyes just to make sure he was still asleep, but his eyes were staring back at you, with the same look he always has. You didn’t have time to even make a sound before he had you under him. His hand grabbed your waist and turned kept you parallel to him as his leg pushed his body to get on top. 

You could feel his erection, he was basically stabbing your thighs with his head. His hands pushed your wrists into opposite sides of your head, and he has you immobilized as he sat on your legs. Most you could move was your toes and neck, but he had pressed his face up against yours. 

“I don’t even know where to start with you. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already. Maybe I can believe you’re just some random, …but you wouldn’t have come to my room.” He lets a wrist go to reel back and strikes your face as a warning. Seriously, no sane person would just come straight back to him in your situation.

“The guard fell asleep?” Nothing gets by him. You can’t tell if he was just prepared for everything or if he planned this out. The excitement you were feeling before was being clashed with the sudden shock to your face. “Depending how the rest of the night will go will determine his punishment.” 

Keeping everything in place, he moves your chin up by his nose, giving him space to start attacking your neck. “We’ll just start with yours.” His grasp tightened around each wrist, so much so that he was pulling on the tendons in your forearms, making your fingers involuntary curl. 

Your luck may have run out, but you weren’t as scared. Trying to enjoy the moment as much as possible, knowing fully well that you’re about to be eaten alive, and god, youve been waiting. His teeth grazed your collar bone, making their way back up, making themselves a known threat to your neck. 

“Speak.” He orders. “Who sent you?” 

“You still think I’m a spy?” The spot where he hit you was pounding, but it didn’t hurt. Other parts of your body were just pulsating along with your heartbeat, you knew he was going to take that as a sign of fear. 

“Hurry up, we have a meeting tomorrow so I’m trying to be considerate for everyone else.” 

He’s still not listening. You weren’t either at this point, finding his roughing up sort of endearing. Maybe he didn’t want to get blood on his bed, or maybe he did care about that stupid meeting. All you could feel was vigorous pulsating from your wrists, your face, your heart, and more than anything else, your pussy. 

This was literally what you came here to do, this was why he even took you with him wasn’t it? Seriously whatever big shot he thinks he is… this shit wasn’t legal; You were serious on going out with a bang, raising your hips to create some friction on his hard on. 

Sukuna seemed to notice the look in your eyes and gave you another firm slap. “Focus, doll.” He adjusts his hips a few inches too far down your liking, his hands being the only thing touching you. 

“Put it back.” You got this far, now he wants to start questioning you immediately after waking up? He picked you up after meeting and ignored you for two weeks, you’re about to do what most others would. Especially if they’re in the same situation with the same circumstances.

“You’re not the one to be giving orders, much less to me.” 

You raise your hips back up to his head, having it dip into you, crossing your clit but unable to enter fully. His tip could find its way in no problem, it was just his call, and that almost drove him over the edge. You’ve stopped fighting back, for something like your freedom and what’s better for you. 

What you were after now was just one more orgasm brought by that monstrous mf. He doesn’t drop his guard, or change his face at all as he accepted “your bait/distraction”. In this position, you’re still straight legged, laying in his bed as he has you held down, arms pinned, palms up, and legs trapped as he sat on your thighs. 

He could easily kill you now, but it would honestly leave a bad taste as no one’s been killed in his room before, much less even entered without permission. You both didn’t know what to think really. 

To you he’s some strange and strong asshole who’s been unclear if you were his sex toy or if you were “invited” and he was just being a terrible host. Honestly, it felt worse to you to have everything you needed; Without your freedom, you were honestly thinking it’d be better to be dead. 

To him, you were dangerous. You got it all right. From the room, to the person to bump into, to the alley. You could have been a spy laying low, from whichever gang he thought you were from, he thought it would be good to hold you off to send a message to see who would come collect you first. They wouldn’t send someone if they didn’t have something to say. 

At first he did just want to keep you until one of them sent them back another message. It didn’t matter what happened to you, honestly he got bored. He’s a busy man, there was really nothing else to say. 

So imagine his surprise how you came crawling all over him tonight. He knew an assassin would’ve done it before he even knew the door opened, they were to make sure it was quick. The attack would have had to been fatal, whether they succeed in one shot or have them die as they’re leaving. And how quick they leave is how desperately they want to live. 

You, just came in to stare at him and decided you wanted something else. And it didn’t seem like revenge. That was a first, especially for him. Right now he was allowing it, letting you go. There was no way you could harm him, he concluded. 

Looking down at you squirm and pout, upset on how close you were to getting what you’ve been aching from and for. He won’t drop his guard, but he sure as hell was silver platter served. Really how badly did you want it?

He connects your wrists at the top of your head with one hand, the other has its index finger and thumb at the base, controlling himself with those two fingers. He raises his erection and knocked it against your clit, the strikes sent waves of pleasure from your core to the top of your head and palm of your feet, having you whimper out. 

Your aching hole needed him, it was taking him so long. Seriously you wish he’d kill you now because this so actually torture. The only thing you could do was start to cry, tears leaving their corners and running into your hair. You were more than frustrated. Angry, horny, needy, powerless, you wanted it so bad you were losing control, it didn’t matter, no one else could judge you, and who would be worse than Sukuna?

“You came in here, climb all over me, just to cry now? You’re so pathetic.” 

“Please,” You whine. “I want you to put it in.”

His face changed, from laughing at you beg, to sharpening his focus. Even after all this, getting caught, threatened, insulted, you’ve started to beg for it. He takes his legs up from pinning yours, putting them to your sides as he aligns himself to your front hole. “Say it again.”

“Please Sukuna, put it in-“ He lowers his hips and dives deep into you. He watches as your head writhes. Instantly youre spread apart, the sudden plunge casted a warm blush across your face and electricity towards the tips of your fingers. “Oooh,” 

“Fuuuuuck.” He finished for you. He continues to grind deeply into you, quickly using his now free hand to gag you from waking everyone up. Good thing too as you were messy, fucked silly couldn’t cover it. You gave up control a long time ago. He wouldn’t kill you, not right now anyway, you especially wouldn’t let him without trying to get one last nut. It was diabolical how down bad he had you. It was more of your unhealed trauma and he just happened to be the best person to help you out, willing or not.

——————————————————————————

You lay there as the base of your back ached. Every part of your body was bruised again, you could only imagine to move again as you tried catching your breath. You had lost count on just how many times he’s forced an orgasm out of you, mind numbingly rich euphoria every time. Nothing else mattered, you were more than thrilled the first 2 times but started to wonder if he ever got tired. 

It wasn’t until after your fifth orgasm that he managed to get his first one in. You were honestly almost regretting climbing into his room but his second had him pinning you on your back as he lay on your lower torso and legs. You couldn’t feel anything but your pulsating cervix, half feeling good from the pain and lingering pleasure, the other half making you know that this was a mistake and the nausea was on you. 

Raising your free arm, you weakly start to pat his head. It was over, you insatiable perverted needs were fulfilled, so what were you going to do now? It’s not like you’re in love with the guy, you don’t even know if you’ll get to wake up tomorrow with this stunt. “It was worth it.” You thought. Running your fingers thorough his hair, and tracing his back, you fall asleep holding him, accepting that this is it.

[gxldenlush]

spiritually yours || m.s

pairing:highschool!matt x ghost!fem!oc

summary:Matt is in love with a ghost.

warnings: mentions of death, very very sad (i cried hard), blood & injuries (stab wound), lmk if I missed anything

a/n: thought of this at 2am & cried writing it

word count: 4.9k

☙༻✽༺❧

Matt has a secret. He sees ghosts. Well, one ghost, specifically. He’s grown completely infatuated with her, if you can believe it.

Adelaide died a very long time ago. 1899 to be precise. She has been trapped in this house since her death, she has no idea why. She found out that Matt could see her when the boy was only eleven years old. Now, the eighteen year old is utterly obsessed with the 125 year old spirit.

Adelaide first started speaking to Matt through dreams and thoughts, on his eleventh birthday, when he was about to fall asleep, he heard “Happy birthday, sweet child”, he opened his eyes and there she was. In a gorgeous Victorian style dress, a light blue that made her eyes stand out beautifully. He wasn’t even scared, he felt oddly calm by this new presence. She gave him this sense of comfort that he’d never felt before.

It didn’t take long for Matt to fully understand that Adelaide was a ghost. Although she hates that word, she doesn’t know what to be called, but she knows that “ghost” isn’t on the list.

Which brings us to today. Matt is sat up in bed, way past the usual time he goes to bed, his nose buried inside a book he found in the attic a few days ago when Adelaide enters the room.

“Hey, you’re earlier than usual” He smiles as he closes the book and puts it in his lap.

“I was tired of waiting” The girl shrugs as she sits on the edge of his bed. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, I found it up in the attic when we were having that clear out..”

“May I?” she holds her hand out for him to pass her the book. she opens the cover and reads the writing. her face softens. “This was mine…”

“It was? how did-“

“That’s my handwriting in here, my name, all of it… I remember this book, I read it religiously”

Matt changes the subject slightly. “Can I ask you a question?.”

“Of course” she places the book down next to her on the bed gently.

“How old were you when you… died?”

“I was nineteen”

His eyebrows raised, he wasn't expecting her to be that young.

"So young," he mumbled to himself. after a moment of silence, she changed the subject.

“Don’t you have a paper for your history class due to be finished soon?”

Matt looks over at the open notebook and laptop sitting on his desk waiting for him to start his assignment. “Yeah.. right. I forgot”

“How about I help you… I’ve seen plenty of history. What is it about?”

Matt sighs as he drags himself off his bed and towards his desk, he sits down in front of it and switches his laptop on.

“I have to write about a previous owner of my house… Everyone is going to have war stories but nobody lived in this house before us since like 1930… I’ve contacted people but they haven’t replied…”

Adelaide sits down on the edge of the desk. “Isn’t there anybody else that you could speak to?” That question sparks an idea.

“Hey, what about you? I mean you said that your family was the first people to own this place… could I write about you?”

“Me? What would you even write about me?”

Matt looks nervous to ask his next question.

“Could I… talk about… how you died maybe?”

“You want to know how I died?”

“Please..? If you don’t want it in my assignment that’s totally understandable but… I do want to know.”

“I’m afraid to tell you…” The spirit speaks with a large amount of uncertainty in her voice.

“Why?”

Adelaide sighs deep, seemingly troubled by the thought of telling Matt of her death.

“I believe that you can still see it… once you learn of a spirits story, of their death, you see the cause. Almost like an illusion… Do you understand that?”

He immediately tensed up, his stomach twisting into painful knots. He didn’t want to see whatever horrific scene it was. He didn’t want to see Adelaide dead, but he also wanted to know more.

He shut his eyes, silently consenting to it.

“So if you tell me how you died, I’d be able to see it?”

“Yes. and I don’t want you to see me like that…”

“Please? It won’t change how I feel about you.. What if you’re like super vague and I fill in the gaps?”

“But you’ll see me like it forever…”

He let out a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. Matt knew what he was about to see would forever be ingrained into his memory.

"I.... I don't care," he replied through clenched teeth.

Adelaide sighs, giving in. “Alright…”

Matt perks up in his seat, bracing himself ready to hear the story.

“When I was nineteen, I fell ill. Terribly ill. My sister took care of me, I slowly grew… they said that I grew insane but I don’t believe that. I believe it’s that word you’ve mentioned before.. when you’re very very sad…”

“Depressed?” Matt questions, he feels a pang in his chest when he hears her reply

“Yes, depressed. I believe that was what happened to me.”

“Did you die from your illness?”

“No…” Another hit to his heart.

“Then… How?”

Adelaide takes a long pause, preparing herself for retelling this story.

“My mother found me, in my washroom… I had stolen a knife from my dinner-“

Before she can continue, Matt feels a chill through his body, a single word is forced into his mind. “lies”.

“That’s not true is it? You didn’t-”

“I don’t remember my death, I remember walking to the washroom but that’s all.. Everybody said that I did it myself.”

He feels the same shiver and the same word pushes into his mind. Matt realises that he can’t see any difference in Adelaide’s appearance he looked up at her in pure confusion, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I don’t see anything," he mumbled, looking around the room. "I-I thought I would've seen something by now..."

“It’s talking to you isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“The house… It remembers every core event that occurred in its walls. Especially the tragedies, everything. It’s telling you different isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.. it is- how is that possible?”

“I haven’t a clue… But it’s fascinating isn’t it?”

Matt let’s out a huff of a laugh “You love that word.. fascinating.. You say it a lot”

“You show me a lot of fascinating things…”

“How does the house remember your death, Adelaide?”

“It tells me that I was wrongly medicated. My sister was the one who took charge of my medication. The house believes that she lethalised my doses in order to keep me ill. Until I realised that I could communicate with this house, I thought that I had used that knife on myself, the house tells me that it was my sister, to keep the blame far away from her…”

Matt’s eyes widened at her words. He never imagined that the cause, the reason she... did it.... was because of her disease.

But when the story changed to the truth, he really didn’t expect to hear that her own sister was the cause behind it all. He felt a wave of anger wash over him.

"Wait... Are you saying your own sister.... made you go insane...?-“

“She apparently lethalised my medicine dosage, yes. I had lost consciousness due to exhaustion and she came into my bedroom, apparently she moved me into the washroom and set my body to make it seem as though I had-” She sighs, not wanting to give more detail. She has already given enough.

“How old was your sister when she did this?”

“Twenty-three, she still lived with us, which was unnatural at the time. All women are usually married off by 20 at the oldest.”

“Were you… married off?”

“No, but I had a suitor prepared for me… My future was just at my reach… He was nice, kind…”

“Did you like him?”

The girl shrugs “I suppose, I wouldn’t have married him on my own accord, of course. Its what my father wanted, so…”

Matt was shocked at this. “So your dad was just going to marry you off to some random guy that you never loved?”

Adelaide cant help but laugh softly at his surprised expression.

“This happened to every woman back when I was alive, Matt”

Matt didn’t care about the “other women”. He was concerned about Adelaide, the fact that her already short-lived life wasn’t how she wanted it to play out. The fact that she never had a say in her own happiness infuriated him, and now she never will.

“My sister didn’t obtain a suitor. She had a few but they always rejected a marriage offer, I never knew why. My sister was beautiful.” Adelaide clears her throat to stop a tear from forming in her eye. “Why don’t you start writing it down?” She turns his focus back onto his assignment.

As Matt begins to write notes, he decides to turn them into a full essay later. He wants his facts first. But just as Adelaide is spelling out her sisters name to him, the pen flies from his hand and hits the wall on the other side of him, the paper soon following.

“Holy shit!”

“Are you alright?” He nods at Adelaide’s concern. “She doesn’t like when people tell that story…”

“Imagine that…” Matt mutters in a sarcastic tone. “Wait, you still talk with her?”

“She’s still here. Though she died much older.”

He let out a shaky breath as he heard Adelaide’s words.

“S-She’s still here?” He repeated, his voice as soft as a whisper. He felt a rush of anxiety wash over him, he could feel the hair on the nape of his neck stand up, chills run down his spine. He was suddenly very aware of where he was, and the possibility of Adelaide’s sisters presence.

“I don’t allow her to be seen by you.”

“yeah I’d rather not- How do you ‘not allow her’?”

“I protect you here, Matt. And your family.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears Adelaide mention that she protects him and his family. He feels a mix of gratitude and relief fill him, he was grateful that she was looking out for him, but he was also afraid of what she’s protecting him from.

“How do you… protect me? and why?”

“The house has made me believe that it is because I was the first to die within it’s walls, I somehow have the power to protect you. As for why… I protect you because I have never felt this way for a man.”

Matt could feel his heart flutter as her words hit him, they reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart in a protective hug. Adelaide cares for him, more than anybody else, and she had the power to protect him. He gently took one of her hands, an action he only learnt was possible a few months ago, and brought it to his chest holding her against his heart.

“I always forget that you can do this” She smiles down at her hand in his.

“You really care that much about me?”

“I said earlier that I wouldn’t have married my suitor from my life if I had the choice… If I ever did have a choice for marriage… it would’ve been a man like you.”

Matt couldn’t believe his ears. She would’ve chosen him. He was speechless for a moment. He doesn’t want to move, breathe, he was afraid that he was in a dream and that one wrong move would wake him up. “You would’ve chosen me?”

Adelaide doesn’t even have time to answer before Matt sees the blood. It’s seeping through Adelaide’s dress, right above her heart.

“Adelaide…”

“What is it?” Her eyes grew a size or two in worry.

“I didn’t realise but… I see it. The blood. Is that where she-”

“No” The girl begins to panic. “No no no no. Y-You can see this?”

He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on the deep red that contrasts the innocent blue of her dress. “Yes… Its right there”

“That… is the injury from my death, I-I don’t want you to see this… Y-You won’t love me if you see this.” Matt’s heart aches at her words. He shook his head fast , his voice filled with conviction.

“No…No, that’s not true, seeing this doesn’t change how I feel about you, I love you no matter what.”

“But I-” Adelaide cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when her dress changes before their eyes. The fabric loosing its beautiful colour, and opening around Adelaide’s wound, showcasing where the knife pierced her skin.

Matt was stunned as he watched her dress change, the fabric shifting and opening up. He could see the wound in her chest now, clear as day. He felt a wave of different emotions wash over him. sadness for the pain that Adelaide endured, anger that this was something she had to go through. He was speechless again for a moment, his eyes locked onto her body, taking in the sight in front of him.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke up, his voice soft yet filled with compassion.

"I... I can see it..."

Tears fill the poor girls eyes as her dress opens the last little bit, fully revealing the cut that killed her. Matt’s heart ached as he saw the tears fill her eyes, the last of the dress disappearing around the wound, revealing the fatal cut on her body. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The love of his life, the person he just admitted he loved, was killed by that cut. He felt a wave of sadness wash over him, his eyes glued to the sight in front of him. He was unable to speak for a few moments, his mind working overtime trying to process what he was seeing.

Adelaide doesn’t take the silence well. She doesn’t give him time to speak, she stands up and rushes out of the room. His heart sank as she stood up and ran away from him, disappearing as she left his room. He was torn between wanting to go after her and wanting to respect her need for space. Matt knew that chasing after her when she was upset is not a good idea. He sat there at his desk, his heart heavy, his mind full of questions. He let out a deep sigh, silently hoping that she would be okay.

Hours passed but Adelaide were nowhere to be seen. He couldn't sleep. His mind was full of thoughts, worries about her. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to will himself to fall asleep, but it was futile. He lay there for what felt like an eternity when suddenly, he heard a faint creak from the door. he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the darkness. He searched every square inch of his dark bedroom, but Adelaide was nowhere to be found.

He lay back down and eventually falls asleep, only to be awoken again by a nightmare. He woke up with a gasp, his heart racing from the nightmare he had. His body was tense, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was about to sit up when he suddenly felt a gentle touch on his hair. His heart skipped a beat as he realized what was happening.

He couldn’t see Adelaide, but he could feel her presence. He could feel her hand gently stroking his hair, soothing him. He knows that she is ensuring that he doesn’t see her because of what he will also see when she makes herself visible to him. It was her way of protecting him from seeing the injury that took her life. He felt a mix of emotions. it was comforting to know that [FNAME] was there, that she cared enough to soothe him after his nightmare, but he also felt a pang of sadness knowing that he couldn’t see her.

After a few soothing yet saddening moments, Matt hears a soft whisper.

“I love you too much to allow you to see me this way.”

He lay there, listening to the sound of her whisper, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. He wanted to say something, to respond to her declaration of love, but he couldn’t find the words. He reached out tentatively, searching for her hand in the dark, wanting to feel her touch once more.

“Matt… don’t” She warns in a whisper, they both know that as soon as he touches her, she will be seen by him. He refuses to let go, once he’s found her hand, he traces his thumb over her knuckles as she becomes more visible to him in the soft glow of the moon through his window.

Matt sits up in his bed, tracing every feature of her face with gentle eyes.

“You don’t love me like this, do you?”

Matt was taken aback by her question. How could she believe that he no longer loved her? He shook his head quickly, his voice gentle and hurt that she would believe such a lie. “I do love you. More than anything, please don’t ever doubt that.”

“But what about my injury? Nobody is beautiful like this.”

Matt couldn’t believe his ears, He sits up in his bed, leaning close to Adelaide. “That doesn’t change how I see you. You’re still the most beautiful person to me, inside and out. Nothing could change that. Nothing.” He rests his forehead against hers gently, just living in this moment as he wants to forever. He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment, before he spoke in a soft and tender whisper.

"I love you... I don’t care what you look like, I don't care about the wound. I love you, all of you."

Matt does something brave, something he’s never done before, he musters up the courage to lean even closer, bringing his lips to meet hers. It was a soft and tentative kiss, filled with nothing but love. He pulled away briefly, his eyes lock with hers as he spoke.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time…”

This brings a laugh from Adelaide “How do you imagine how I feel, it’s been a hundred and twenty five years for me”

Matt joins in on the laughter, it is cut short with confusion when Matt realises something. Her wound is disappearing, his eyes widen in surprise and confusion.

“It’s… disappearing.”

“What is?”

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. bits and pieces of her injuries were vanishing before his eyes. He reached out and touched the area where the injury used to be, his fingers gently brushing against her skin. He looked up at her, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. “how is this happening..?”

Matt lightly traces his fingertips along the skin where the wound used to be. Adelaide looks down and sees no blood. “I-It’s gone.”

His fingertips gently traced the area where the fatal cut used to be on her chest. He was in disbelief as he saw that her injury had vanished. He then realises that her dress was mended perfectly, as if the injuries had never been there in the first place. He shook his head in bewilderment, his voice filled with awe as he spoke. “I don’t understand.. it’s gone... completely Gone..”

“I-I don’t know what t-this means” Adelaide stammers, completely confused.

He couldn’t say for sure what this new development meant. all he knew is that seeing her injuries disappearing right before his eyes was a miracle.

he shook his head, feeling a surge of hope rise within him.

"Maybe this means something... maybe..." he trailed off, unsure of what to make of this strange occurrence. He stops his sentence when he feels her hand become lighter in his, he looks down and sees something that tears his heart from his chest.

“Adelaide… your hand…” When she looks down, she sees her hand starting to fade away, she’s disappearing.

“No.. No I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re.. you’re leaving me, aren’t you?” Matt’s eyes flood with tears.

She’s passing over.

He can’t stop it.

“Hey, it’s okay” Matt speaks, his throat burning as he attempts to keep his tear at bay. He refuses to let her see him like that. He will stay strong for her. “You can finally be happy.”

“But I am happy with you.”

“Adelaide, you can finally sleep… you can see your mom again”

“I-I do miss my mother…”

Matt’s heart aches as he hears her broken words. She hasn’t seen her mother in over 100 years. “You can be free to do whatever you want now, nothing can hold you back” He forces a smile.

Adelaide cant hold her tears any longer, she lets out a choked sob. “I don’t want to be without you.” Matt can sense the pain in her words. He stroked her hair gently and pulled her closer as he spoke in a gentle voice. “Hey, that’s okay, I’ll always remember you alright? You’ll always be in my mind and my heart.”

After a long tight hug that slowly becomes lighter and lighter, Adelaide finally gives in.

“Thank you for every moment, Matt”

His entire body aches with emotion. He looks into her eyes. “I will never forget our moments, Adelaide, you’ll always be the love of my life.”

“Don’t forget to write about me” Adelaide lets out a soft chuckle as she reminds him to write about her in his history presentation.

“I will write a million books about you, Adelaide you can be my ghostly muse” He smiles at his half-joke. He really will write about her. Every book, every school assignment, every word with be somehow tied to Adelaide

“I adore the sound of that.” She smiles through her tears.

Matt’s heart aches as he sees her attempt to smile. He couldn’t bear to see her this way. He gently wipes away her tears with his thumbs, he keeps his hands cupped to her cheeks, savouring the contact while he still can. His gaze filled with love and loss.

“Maybe one day we will be alive at the same time.”

“In the next life. I’ll find you.”

“Do you promise?” Her voice breaks as her eyes beg for his promise.

“I promise.”

They sit in silence as Adelaide slowly fades away.

“I love you”

“I adore you”

They kiss, once more to remember each other, they wish that they could stay in that moment forever. But alas, when Matt opens his eyes, the love of his life is nowhere to be seen. She has finally moved on, she will be at peace. Reunited with her mother. Free to be herself. Matt closed his eyes again, a mix of sadness and contentment coursing through him. He whispers into the dark of his bedroom, hoping that wherever Adelaide is, she can still hear him.

“I will always love you.”

☙༻✽༺❧

The next week was hard for Matt, he can’t go an hour of the day without thinking of his ghostly love. It can come to the time for him to read out his history assignment to his class. He wrote about her, just like he’d promised. He makes his way to the front of the class, preparing for the laughter as he is bound to burst into tears at the first sentence.

That is until his headmaster walks into the class, interrupting him. Matt silently thanks the man for postponing his assignment from being read, although it is something that Adelaide had wanted.

“Excuse me, Mr Sturniolo, I’m just here to introduce our new student. This is Addie. She has joined us from… where is it you’re from again?”

The new student comes to view, Matt cannot believe his eyes when he sees this girl. Her captivating eyes remind Matt of her. She’s wearing her favourite colour. She looks just like Adelaide.

“Oh, I’m from… all over.”

The girl takes a seat at the desk next to Matts. He is told to begin reading his assignment. He doesn’t feel afraid to read it anymore. He feels comforted, his eyes drawn to the girl sat next to his empty chair. He reads his assignment perfectly, he does get choked up when he speaks of Adelaide’s injury that caused her death. He remembers seeing the stab wound that she thought for so long was her doing. But when he looks up at this strangely familiar girl, his sadness and slight anger dissipates.

After his class has ended, he feels a tap on his shoulder, when he looks up at this girl, he sees her at a closer view. The resemblance is uncanny.

“What’s your name?”

“I-I’m Matt”

“I like that name… Sorry, I know this is weird but I just feel like I know you.” He doesn’t find it weird at all. Matt couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion as he hears those words. The familiarity in her voice and words striking a chord in him.

“That’s not weird. You remind me of someone too.”

“Is she pretty?” The girl jokes with a smile.

He chuckled softly at the light-hearted comment. He shook his head slightly, his voice growing softer. “She isn’t just pretty, she is like nobody else. She’s the most beautiful girl in the world. She had this warmth about her, just one look from her would make you forget everything else in the world… she is- well, she was- perfect.” Matts eyes fill with tears when he refers to Adelaide in the past tense.

“Was? Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it just still stings a little.”

Addie decides to change the subject, to avoid making him more upset, little does she know she will speak of the same girl.

“Hey, that presentation you did in there, from the eighteen-hundreds? That was some intense shit… So she used to live in your house all those years ago?”

He nodded with a small smile, honestly he wants to talk about her to this girl. To Matt, it feels like he is talking to Adelaide herself, telling her how… fascinating she was. God, she loved to use that word.

“Yeah, she died a hundred and twenty-five years ago…” He changes his story slightly so that this girls doesn’t think he’s crazy. “People say that her ghos- her spirit stayed for years and years after. She always thought that she had killed herself, because she didnt remember her death because she was so sick, but really it was her sister. She was only nineteen when she died, all she wanted from her life was to live how she wanted and to fall in love. Apparently she did, but with someone who was alive, they fell in love and when she realised that he loved her no mater what, she finally moved on. After over a hundred years…” Matt blinks away tears.

“Wow, thats fascinating.” His eyes grow wider when she says that.

“Did you just say fascinating?”

“Yeah, I love that word. I’m not sure why, just always use it.”

Matt’s gaze softens. “It really is a great word… Adelaide really was fascinating, she still continues to fascinate me, and everyone who hears about her…”

Addie smiles softly, seeing the clear appeal that he has with this spirit. “Why don’t you tell me more about her? I like to be fascinated” She laughs.

“Okay…” They start to walk down the hallway towards the exit doors, they walked home together that day. He told Addie all about Adelaide, she was genuinely interested, he was grateful of that. She asked questions and took in the information.

Matt will always love Adelaide, but he feels a very strong connection to her when he is with Addie. He can’t help but wonder if it’s possible for Adelaide’s spirit to be in this girl who is an absolute reflection of her.

Maybe they will always find each other.

In life and in death.

———

@asherrisrandom @nickssunglasses @mattscoquette

[cutthroatcarnival]

Revered Deity, Unknown Hero (1/10)

This is a special one! Thank you @bokettochild for allowing me to write a fic using your God of War!Warriors idea! It was super fun to write. :)

Read chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Find it on AO3 here!

Divine and Draconic Differences

The skies were clear and the weather was pleasant as the heroes congregated outside of Wild and Flora’s Hateno home. It was peaceful, a nice and welcomed reprieve from the era before.

Wind, a still growing teenager, was overflowing with energy, tugging around an equally as eager Hyrule, to explore everything possible. He had his spyglass out, sweeping across the vast land of the Wild Era. Every so often, he’d hand his spyglass over to the traveler to allow him a go.

His telescope was focused on a chasm far out, watching the remaining wisps of gloom fade into the air. Mesmerized by the red-purple, he didn’t fully register the white-blue on the edge until it had blocked his view.

“Wild! What the fuck is that?!” Keeping his focus on the serpentine creature in the sky, he heard Wild approach his side with the familiar sound of him activating his slate’s scope mode.

“That’s Naydra, one of the dragons.”

That… didn’t look like a dragon. Dropping his spyglass from his eye, Wind fixed Wild with a stare. The scarred hero stared back.

“Don’t look at me like that. There’s three dragons, they’re all servants of the springs. Naydra happens to be the servant of the Spring of Wisdom, which is,” he grabbed Wind’s shoulder and spun him around, pointing to a mountain peak covered in snow, “right on that peak over there.” Wind moved his gaze to the mountain peak, following Wild’s finger. He could see the vague shape of pillars.

“Huh… so you have dragons too? They look different from mine.” Wind began walking back to the rest of the group, who had been listening in on the conversation, no matter how hard they tried hiding it. Wild took a few seconds to decipher the information, and ran to catch up with the sailor.

“What do you mean “you too”? I didn’t know anyone else had dragons!” Wind shrugged.

“Like I said, mine are different, like Valoo. He was a sky spirit I met during my first adventure. And the only one that didn’t try to kill me.” He plopped down next to Warriors, who offered the young hero one of the apples he had.

“Still! Does anyone else have dragons?” All hands went up except for the smithy, who looked utterly confused as he mouthed dragons over and over, eyes swirling different colors.

“In my defense, all of my dragons wanted to kill me.” Hyrule exclaimed, being seconded by Time, Twilight, Warriors, and Legend.

The five heroes delved into further conversation about their draconic enemies. Wind wiggled into the group, chattering about the gleeoks he fought. Wild chimed in about having to fight gleeoks as well, explaining about the King Gleeoks residing in hard-to-reach locations.

“The dragons I know serve Hylia.” A few grimaced at the mention of the goddess, but the dislike was outweighed by the curiosity of Sky’s dragons.

“The three of them were assigned to watch over different provinces of the Surface. They also protected the sacred flames, and held parts of the Song of the Hero.”

Wild was immediately upon Sky, spitting out questions with very little breaths between, all centered on what they looked like, if they had any powers, and anything of the sort.

“Of course they have powers, they guard and protect the Triforce. Even the gods wouldn’t be able to reach it with them guarding the key to it.

Gods and Goddesses were a touchy subject. Some were openly hostile towards them, others in the middle, and some revered them. Yet, the topic always raised an interesting thought; just how many are there?

“Do you think there’s more than just Hylia?” Came Four’s voice, eyes shining a curious violet.

“There’s the light spirits in my era,” Twilight rested his chin in his palm, “Ordona, Lanayru, Eldin, and Faron. They protect the regions they share names with.”

“Oh, and the Golden Goddesses! They’re the ones that submerged Hyrule!” Wind piped up, leaning against Warriors, who grimaced as the sailor’s sharp elbow dug into his thigh.

A soft hum emitted from Time, who had been running his fingers along his markings, a pensive look across his face. Wild bounded off of Sky, and settled next to Twilight.

“I know of one! Legends talk about a Fierce Deity… they say that if one dons his armor and mask they gain godlike power.”

Time gave a sharp inhale, and his fingers dropped from his face.

Others shook their heads, either not having any other gods, goddesses, or deities in their time, or having the same ones as someone else.

“Not anymore.”

Eight heads turned towards Sky, who had found a stick and was whittling absentmindedly, a stormy look across his face. They all shared a few glances- curiosity, and a little bit of fear.

‘Not anymore’?

“Oh! There is another- the Deity of War.” Hyrule broke the silence, fingers tying blades of grass into circles while his gaze rested on the other heroes.

“Isn’t that the same as the Fierce Deity?” Twilight cocked his head.

Legend scoffed.

“Many think that, but”, he stood up and turned so he was facing all eight heroes, “they are different. He’s the Deity of War, exactly as his name implies; a powerhouse on the battlefield, calculated and quick. The Fierce Deity doesn’t focus on war, he focuses on ferocity, on power, on courage. It’s in their names, it really is that simple.”

The veteran launched further into an explanation about the two, pointing out the similarities and differences, both surface level and deeper. Pointed ears all upright, revealing without words how invested they were in this newly learned-about deity.

Wild shot up out of his seat and ran to the house, slamming the door open, sounds of rustling and clanging could be heard, and the heroes remaining shared concerned glances. The current era’s hero came racing back out- not bothering to shut the door- with a book in his grasp.

“Legends Throughout the Ages” read the title of the book in intricate gold. The book itself seemed to be in good condition, missing the normal wear and tear they had seen on other things in the champion’s era.

“I know about him! Flora was talking about some books she had found in the castle,” he thumbed through the pages, “and she thought I would like this one… Aha!” Wild smoothed the book to lay flat on pages marked with blue fabric scraps.

On the pages were long paragraphs of stories and legends of the deity, exploring where he originated from and what eras his legends came from. Taking up a sizable portion of the right page was an image.

“Hey, he kind of looks like Warriors!”

Wind grabbed the book from Wild and pranced back over to the captain, who only raised an eyebrow at him, his now finished apple set off to the side. The sailor raised the book next to Warriors and basked in the ‘oohs’ when they realized that their youngest was right.

The picture and the captain looked nearly identical; only differentiated by the gold and blue markings on the deity’s face, blank eyes, and the color of the armor- a vibrant gold- and the tunic- a pale cream.

Snatching the book, Warriors scanned over the page, lingering on the photo a little longer.

“I don’t see it.”

That caused an uproar, as Wind and Wild both pounced on the captain, claiming that he was wrong and everyone could very well see it, while Hyrule just looked at the captain like he had grown a second head. The others groaned quietly.

There goes the relaxing day they were hoping for.

[virgo-mess]

Can you make a terry silver x fem reader smutshot based off the song "one of the girls" by the weeknd?

Thanks for the Request!

And I've finally got the first part of this request done! Aiming for two parts but it could end up being three depending on how the next part goes! This request ended up CK Terry adjacent I hope that's okay. I've also taken some creative liberties with this song, but I will do my best to incorporate most of the pre chorus in the next part or parts ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Broken Spirit: Chapter 1

TW: Stalking mostly, Terry being hotly deranged, its implied reader is also lowkey deranged though a match made in heaven essentially, and that's mostly it for this part. I know it's short, but I hope you enjoy!

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

Terry’s POV

A haze of purple hues, pulsating strobe lights, and wispy lines of thin gray smoke swirl around the crowded dance floor of the Hollywood bar, Warwick. The thrum of wavey synths filled Terry Silver’s ears while his incisive blue eyes surveyed the room in languid motions from his spot against the bar wall having just ventured from the classier, more adult lounge upstairs. He gazed at the drunk, strung-out LA clubbers with a certain degree of distained apathy. He hadn’t been inside a club or had a line of coke since the 80s, a rather contentious phase in the older billionaire’s life. To be quite honest he didn’t enjoy the hubs of the LA youth’s night life anymore now, in his graying age, then he did back then. Now a club like this only served as a bitter reminder of the days John Kreese raged through Terry’s lavish LA life like a tornado. Only to leave it in shambles just as suddenly, even all these years later the thought left a bitter lump forming in the back of his throat.

What’s passed has past, of course, as far as Terry was concerned John Kreese no longer existed. John was as much a ghost of lifetimes past as the cocaine fueled daze of Terry’s dim, but still flickering empires of addiction. Once an addict, always an addict is what they say after all. It only took Terry over a decade to replace that ghostly powder with something else, something corporeal, in all its lovely delight and there it was now. Terry couldn’t help the delighted somewhat bashful way his lips curled upwards when his eyes finally spotted you. There you stood, glittering in a hazy sea of strung-out blurs adorned in the black miniskirt and silver halter top. He’d been moving that outfit to the front of your cluttered closet during his routine visits to your empty condo while you sunbathed next to the complex’s pool in the most conservative one-piece swimsuit you had. Terry swiped all the tiny bikinis you owned on his first inconspicuous venture into your empty bedroom, the evidence of which now lay neatly folded in his dresser drawer. Normally he’d work his way up to petty thievery, but it was a necessary risk to take. How else could he ensure outside eyes didn’t linger on what he silently declared was his, the moment he’d laid eyes on it…

Terry met you exactly a year ago last week at some trendy art gala in Beverly Hills. He’d stumbled upon you, sitting on the terrace rail in a fetching cream gown almost as if you were contemplating flying off into the starry night sky like an enchanting swan. But in one hasty conversation Terry came to realize you were more akin to a black mare, a free spirit immune to his charm. A beautiful yet fully untamable party girl with a captivating aura of intrigue surrounding you. How you ended up at a sophisticated gala was beyond him in the last year he’d learn night clubs and house parties in the Hills was your prerogative at least when you weren’t holed up in your swanky corner office. You kept a surprising balance between work and play, a balance Terry wouldn’t quite achieve till his early to mid-forties and here you were mastering it just shy of thirty. That steely ambition was all it really took for Terry Silver to become infatuated with you. Though the conversation you gave him that evening was equal in measure to the passive niceties one would share with a cashier at the grocery store. Thus began a yearlong game of cat and mouse.

For months after the gala, you appeared uninterested in him despite all the “chance” run ins and “spontaneous” cocktail invites Terry meticulously sent your way. Terry tried to be “discreet” about his yearning for you at first, even as tedious as it was. That was way before he realized you were merely making a game out of the chase at his expense like the wild mare you were at heart. Terry caught on to your coy little game during one of his chance run ins with you on Rodeo Drive. Intrigued alarm bells were ringing his head when you suspiciously delighted him with trivial small talk over lunch for an entire afternoon, up until then you’d been incredibly frivolous. Terry considered it a win if he was fortunate enough to hold you up for an hour or so on your weekly trip to the grocery store. He had basically made it impossible for you to avoid him or sneak away anyway, he all but glued himself to your side as you rolled up and down routine aisles of produce. Never questioning why he’d strayed so far from Malibu to linger by your side amongst pints of Ben and Jerrys in west Hollywood. He had thought perhaps you hadn’t noticed but it was quite the contrary, you had noticed.

It struck him over lunch that day on Rodeo drive when you nonchalantly let it slip you and your friend Bea would be attending one of the four raves in LA that weekend. You had the gall to tack on a cute “You’re welcome to join us” with a coy smile etched on your plump lips and mischief swirling in your big eyes. Terry couldn’t help but smirk, taking in your thick fluttering lashes. He found your very first attempt at lying to him right through your pearly little teeth surprisingly endearing. He had already seen the phrase “Napa Valley with Bea” elegantly scribbled in pink ink on the calendar you had sitting on the desk in your home office.  A million thoughts raced through his mind at that very moment.

Part of him wanted to call you out on your lie right then and use it as an excuse to “lure” you into the back his Ferrari, whisking you back to his Malibu mansion whether you wanted to or not was beyond the point. The image of you stripped bare and bound on your knees in front of his California king, begging for forgiveness and mercy among other things was quite tempting after all. But what would it get him in the end? He could fuck you hard and raw until you were incapable of forming coherent thoughts or words let alone, running away from him. You certainly wouldn’t be out roaming the droves of sordid LA raves you seemed most privy to into the early hours of the morning if he had. But breaking in a rouge mare was no easy feat. Regardless of whether you break a horse in hard or soft, it requires time, patience, good groundwork, and attention to detail. Luckily, Terry Silver was an expert at all of the above in his greying age…

So, after weighing his options he decided to take you up on your coy little game. He could play along and let his prized mare think she had the reigns for quite some time, and he had. Terry waited an entire day before coincidentally running into you and Bea on your oh so, “last minute “, Napa Valley getaway. Your aura was more aloof than usual that day, but your big eyes gave away your dumbfounded wonder when he strode into the hotel lobby like some aplomb show pony. And that dumbfounded, endearing sort of wonder swirled in those big eyes every night Terry managed to track down his unbroken little mare since. Surely tonight would be no different once you finally spotted him lingering coolly in the back of yet another lively LA bar for the hundredth time in the past few weeks. But, most unbeknownst to you, his prized untamed mare, tonight would be very different… It was finally time for, Terry Silver to finish breaking you in properly and he knew just how to do it. He’d been planning it meticulously for weeks now, the perfect corral for his free spirit was set, decked out quite lavishly and sat out on the Malibu beachfront. Now, all Terry had to do was get you there, which shouldn’t be too hard, he clocked your subtle jealous tendencies when you found him engaging Bea in polite albeit meaningless conversation at some bar in the Valley last week, when you’d finally found your way back from the bathroom. It was quick, a mere flicker in those big eyes of yours in the warm bar lighting but it was enough for Terry to perceive a degree of unspoken but requited loyalty on your part. That was all the proof he really needed that you were finally ready to let go of this frivolous game. To finally let him “ride you”, metaphorically speaking, whether you knew it consciously now or not. If you didn’t know it now, you’d know it by Friday evening Terry was sure.  After all, if there was one thing Terry Silver knew how to do without a doubt, it was throwing a party….

“They don’t know that I love you…

I broke you just to own you…”

Terry pushed himself off the wall, his lips still curled in a smug predatory smirk as he eyed you from afar. Your doe-like eyes looked bored while they surveyed your surroundings quite pointedly as Bea rambled in your ear about something trivial, most assuredly. If it weren’t for the hordes of ogling eyes from young vulture-like reprobates on you at present, Terry would be keen to watch you like this all night. Those doe eyes gave way the fact they’d been looking for him for quite a while in all their feigned innocence, silently begging for him to swoop in and save you from your untamed proclivities. Begging to be broken…

“You’ll get what you’re begging for soon enough, sweetheart…” Terry cooed under his breath, letting his legs carry him to your shimmering corner of the cluttered dance floor. He knew ignoring you in that little black skirt and silver halter top was going to be hard. Terry had never longed to touch anything the way he longed to touch you but ignoring his little prize was a necessary measure to ensure you’d show up at his mansion hot and ready. So, Terry straightened out his Tom Ford blazer and ran a large hand through his nearly silver hair coolly. His eyes bore into you intensely enough for you to finally meet his gaze across a sea of blurred gyrating bodies, everything around him always seemed to fade when you were around. Every high he had in his youth failed in comparison to the one his ethereal free spirit provided him, how he lived without you all these was beyond him.  But that would all be remedied come Friday, he’d make up for every ounce of lost time…

Terry closed in on you and Bea, feigning a polite smile, he watched as a dusty pink blush spread across your cheeks. Your plump lips fought the urge to curl into one of your coy little smiles as you eyed him up with dilated pupils. The rapid rise and fall of your ample breasts made you look like a dog in heat, Terry had to bite back an ominous chuckle at the sight of you before him.

“Good evening, fancy running into you here” Terry said charmingly, he finally peeled his steely blue eyes off your curvy form and let them settle on Bea with a coquettish aura. Bea was the type of girl he would’ve dated at the height of his coke heydays. She was the hallow type of pretty you’d find on the cover of Vouge with a personality to match or lack thereof, the type of girl he’d take to a charity gala and nothing. You on the other hand were quite pretty but in a petite cute, ingenue beauty type of way that most people wouldn’t find intimidating. You made up for that with your exuberant, quick witted, occasionally sarcastic charm.

“Look what the cat dragged in Bea, we’ve been standing in this corner of the dance floor all alone for almost two hours now, did you get lost?” You quipped coyly, Terry saw your signature coy smile twitch on your plump lips out of the corner of his eye and fought the urge to let his eyes stray from Bea. Bea looked up at him before looking at you almost anxiously as she realized he was talking to her, and only her. Terry let the wave of awkward silence stretch on for quite some time, his blue eyes bore into Bea expectantly. Silently urging her to put her dry personality to the side and play along with his little game long enough for him to slip her a meticulous invite.

“Oh, uh, Mr. Silver what brings you to Warwick…” Bea trailed awkwardly, Terry maintained his polite smile though internally he was rolling his eyes. He would trudge through tedious trivial small talk with your snooze box of a friend for you, and only you.

“Oh, you know just out on the town, they have a more intimate lounge just upstairs for us oldies. My friends packed it in early, so I thought I’d come down and see what all you young darlings were buzzing about.” Terry said in the same mildly coquettish tone. He allowed himself to glance at you long enough to catch the way you were adorably grinding your teeth as you glanced between him and Bea with a faux aura of aloofness. Terry fought a giddy smirk as he watched your ample breasts rising and falling faster than they had even a moment ago. You were silently seething already, and he hadn’t even mentioned the party yet.

“Don’t be silly Mr. Silver, you’re not that old, you blend in down here just fine” Bea said still looking incredibly awkward under his gaze. Her brown eyes seemed to be silently pleading with you to save her from whatever was brewing between the three of you right now. Your eyes bore into him, lit up by the hues of flickering lights as a new wave of intensified synths poured through the speakers overhead. If it weren’t for the obnoxious club atmosphere one might say the stare off the pair of you were having was pulled right out of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. An exasperated huff escaped you plump lips as you finally turned you seething gaze towards Bea. Terry let his polite smile falter just so, getting the urge his prized filly was gearing up to buck at any moment.

“Don’t be silly Bea, you don’t have to lie to Terrence just because he’s a billionaire. He is that old and he really doesn’t blend in with us young commoners in his Tom Ford blazer now, does he. You know, aside from the fact its 85 degrees outside (29 degrees Celsius 😉)” you said in a biting yet sickly-sweet kind of tone with some attempt at a sinister smirk on your face. And there it was, Terry chuckled under his breath at the pointed usage of his full name you’d be paying for that little jab at his greying age real soon…

“Y/N, that was rude…” Bea muttered to you softly, it was nearly impossible to hear over the blaring of supposed music above them. Terry waved his hand dismissively, pulling an emerald, green envelope with an elegant, gold wax seal out of his blazer pocket before you could respond. Your big eyes swirled with eager curiosity at the sight of the lone invitation clutched in his large hand, Terry did his best not to let such an endearing look dissuade him from the task on hand. He assured himself he could relish such a look in due time as he forced yet another polite smile; he settled his blue eyes on Bea once more.

“That’s quite alright, I’ll be heading back up to my rightful place on the lounge sofa Y/N just as soon as I give Bea this…” Terry said weaponizing the sickly-sweet biting tone you had just used on him with an almost sadistic look in his eyes. Your face fell astronomically though you did your best to play it off with your signature aloof expression, but your eyes appear slightly…glassy as they peered over at the emerald envelope. Honestly, the look in your eyes was enough to have the faintest twinge of guilt bubbling in the older man’s chest, a feeling the coke had numbed for quite some time. “It’ll all be better Friday, sweetheart you’ll see” Terry replayed the thought in his head like a mantra in the brief stretch of silence that lingered in the air.

“Um, what is it…” Bea trailed looking at the letter with a constrained look in her eyes. The twitch of Bea’s hand suggested she wanted to take it, but your sudden withdrawn expression made her hesitate. Terry considered the fact that maybe he was taking this a step too far but how else could he make sure you waltzed into his mansion Friday evening? One split second decision would allow him to both wrap up this tedious small talk foreplay and strike hard with no mercy.

“It’s an invitation to the party I’m hosting Friday evening, I’m willing to give you the details if you accompany me to my rightful place on the lounge sofa” Terry said in a tone that managed to be charming towards Bea and mocking towards you all at once. Bea’s dry expression for once looked dumbfounded, her brown eyes looked between the two of you, equal amounts conflicted. You, however, were gritting your teeth again with a fire a blaze in though big eyes of yours. Terry didn’t fight the urge to smirk, instead he turned and looped an arm with a still dumbfounded Bea and guided her a fair distance through the droves of strung-out blurs on the dance floor. He ignored Bea’s soft cries of protest though he felt her trying her hardest to unloop her stringy arm from his. “Strike first, Strike Hard, No Mercy” a new mantra swirls in Terry’s head and he forces himself to a stop in the middle of the cluttered club floor. He turns to meet doe eyed gaze with a giddy, sadistic smirk that leveled the one he bore in the dojo with the ghost of his lost friend John Kreese all those years ago…

“Oh, Y/N, you’re welcome to join us” the words float out of his mouth tauntingly. The blaze in your eyes dies down just enough for a smirk to curl onto your lips.

“…He knows how to get the best of me

I’m no fool for the world to see

Trade my whole life just to be….”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

[ayyy-pee]

hello! I am incredibly in love with how you write!! I couldn't get enough of it then it hit me, I had an idea for a smut (if you're taking requests of course) wherein jujutsu and chainsaw man are in the same universe. reader is an jujutsu sorcerer who lives in a different district but had to come in tokyo since they have heard about some sightings of a cursed spirit they've been hunting down for months then somehow reader had ended up staying there for three months, since it's the public safety devil hunter's it is in their jurisdiction to accompany reader hence she was made to stay at the same apartment with the trio but in the last room in the same floor as them (some of the upper ups made the reader stay for further investigation). then there begins subtle glances that escalates to aki willingly helps reader in said investigation one day to hook ups every so often with the chances they can get since reader is only staying for three months. (after that it's up to you if you want it to evolve into a relationship or they made a pact that their hook up is only good for 3 months)

helloooooo sorry it took me a bit to get to this! I really REALLY enjoyed this prompt so I wanted to take my time with it (also I got busy with life asldkjs anyway). I really hope you like what I came up with!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

wc: 3.8k

warnings: smut, profanity, vaginal fingering, alley sex, mutual masturbation, needy aki, slight mention of violence, vaginal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, sex sex sex, panty kink, aki steals your panties, he probably doesn't give them back

You sip your coffee on the balcony as you take in the early morning sunrise over Tokyo. You can hear the commotion just below, the jingle of the train calling passengers to board, planes zipping overhead. It’s so beautiful here despite the ugliness that lies within. Swallowing your drink, you sigh, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

Three months.

It’s been three months since you ended up stuck in this district of Tokyo. What business did a Jujutsu sorcerer have in the Public Safety Devil Hunter’s district anyway? One that required a shit ton of paperwork and temporary housing with an assigned chaperone until your business was finished.

And it was. You had completed your mission and it would only be a matter of time before they would be calling you to go back home. Three months ago, you would’ve been ecstatic to get right back out of this part of town. Now, the thought just makes you sad.

“You okay?” A deep voice brings you back to the present. You look up, dark blue eyes staring into your own curiously. “You spaced out when I was talking to you.” He lifts his own mug of coffee up to his lips, sipping the warm drink he’d made you both this morning. Always so kind, this one. You try not to stare back for too long, should your face start heating up the way it’s been lately when you two are alone.

“I’m good, Aki. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Just asking if you’ve heard from your higher ups?”

You chuckle quietly. “Why? Getting sick of me?”

Aki hums, a small smile spreading across his lips. His eyes still watch you as he plucks a cigarette he’s hidden from behind his ear. The smile soon falls as he rolls it around in his fingers, his intense gaze full of questions. 

“Now that you’ve exorcized your curse, what’s going to happen?” Aki asks, lips curling around his cigarette as he lights. 

“It’s not my curse. It’s just a curse,” you reply, shrugging as you turn your attention back to the city. “And I go home now…I guess.”

From the corner of your eye, you just barely make out the way Aki’s brows raise subtly. He schools his features quickly, nodding. “Right away? Or…? Is there paperwork involved that’ll keep you here?”

You shake your head. “Not for me. My higher ups will take care of it, so I’ll head home.”

“Got it.”

The silence lingers. And you let it. It gives you time to appreciate what you’ve gotten to experience here in this short time.

If you were to be grateful for anything the last few months, it’s that Aki was assigned to you as your chaperone. Your sudden appearance within the district threw a wrench in his plans, sure, but he accepted you as a new roommate regardless, though it was more an assignment for him at first than out of the kindness of his heart. Aki made it easy for you to adjust. He gave you a home when you needed one. He was cordial and respectful. It was a relief.

…It’s complicated with Aki now. There’s feelings involved. Your initial relationship began as colleagues of sorts, you accompanying each other when you had business to take care of. You because originally, you wanted to get rid of the curse as quickly as possible and go home. Aki, because he wasn’t allowed to let you out of his sight. This soon changed into friendship, getting lunch together, cooking dinner together. 

Dinner went from awkward and quiet conversation to loud laughs and shared smiles between you, Aki and his siblings. It became Aki brewing an extra cup of coffee in the morning for you. It became you packing Aki a home cooked meal when he had to go out and you weren’t required to be with him. Then it soon became small touches shared between you and Aki, hands brushing against each other when cooking together. Aki leaning over your shoulder to watch you stir what you were making and you’d swear you could feel his lips ghost over your skin before he was gone. It became stealing glances when you could and catching Aki watching you.

All this soon added up to shy advances between you both. Aki brushing his fingers over yours while you watched a movie on the couch together. Aki’s hand finding the small of your back to guide you whenever he’d hold a door open for you. You squeezing past Aki, sure to lightly rub your ass against his crotch when you bump into each other in the small space of the bathroom. You love the way he inhales sharply when you do it.

Weeks of this sexual tension builds up. It’s unbearable…for you anyway. Aki is as cool as ever as far as you can tell. You’re not sure where he stands. 

That is…until the day you finally encounter your curse in a dark alley. It’s got Aki backed against the wall, his sword tossed aside. The ugly thing is raising its disgusting claw into the air, snarling as it makes to bring its claw down on him. Aki lifts his hand up, shaping his fingers into what appears to be a fox in front of his eye. He opens his mouth to speak…only to see the curse’s head burst open as you shatter its skull with a swift kick. It lands on the other side of the alley with a nasty crunch.

You’re breathing harshly as you step towards Aki, watching as the curse disintegrates. But Aki is only focused on you, eyes darting all over your body like he’s trying to take inventory of any potential new markings or injuries. He steps closer to you, his hand coming up to lace his fingers through yours. It pulls your attention back to him.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, all of his worry dripping from his voice.

“No.” 

You see the relief wash over Aki.

“Good.”

And then he pulls you into him, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he looks down at you. You meet his gaze. There’s a question in them. You know what he’s asking, the confirmation when his eyes dart down to your lips. He’s waiting for an answer from you. And you give it to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, lips crashing into his with fervor. 

It’s messy, desperate, like you’ve both been holding back your desire for this. And you have. Each smack of your lips together pulls a new sound from each of you. You, with your hushed sighs and soft moans. Aki, with his quiet grunts and deep groans. This is what the last few weeks have been building up to. Your hands exploring each other's bodies, pulling and grabbing at each other desperately.

Aki spins you both so that your back is pressed against the wall now, hands letting go of you so he can pull the skirt of your sorcerer uniform up.

“Is this okay?” He breathes against your lips. You nod.

“Yes, Aki,” his lips are slotted against yours again, just briefly. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

He bunches your skirt up at your waist, feels the hem of your panties and slides his fingers into the waistband. Aki breaks the kiss briefly to pull them down your legs, helping you maneuver your feet out of them until they’re completely off. You watch as he stands back up, holding your panties in his hand. His eyes are glued to the little fabric in his palm, one particular spot. He doesn’t say anything as he gently runs his thumb over the little slick spot at the center, eyes fluttering shut when he feels your arousal beneath his finger.

He pockets your panties a second later and then he’s back on you, tongue in your mouth when you gasp. You’ve been wanting this, dreaming about this, fantasizing about this moment with Aki. 

Aki slips his hand between your legs as he kisses along your neck, inhaling sharply when his fingers dip into your folds and finds you soaking wet. “God, you’re so ready for me,” he breathes against your skin. You whine quietly as Aki presses a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles against you. “You could’ve died,” he sighs as he leans down, pressing hot kisses to your neck.

“Who cares? I didn’t,” you pant into the air, hands finding solace on Aki’s shoulders.

“I care. If you died, I’d never see you again.”

His fingers continue working your clit. And you’re turning into nothing but a messy puddle in his hand, slick dripping into his palm.

“You won’t see me again anyway. I’m leaving now that the curse is gone.”

"You could stay," he murmurs into your neck. You can hear the small plea in his voice. It pulls at your heartstrings. Because you could stay, but you won’t. You don’t belong here.

"Aki, don't make this more than what it is," you tell him, trying to sound stern, failing when your voice comes out shaky and weak. Aki pulls back to look at you and you could drown in those deep ocean eyes of his.

"Stay here with me." 

"You don't mean that." 

"I do. I've wanted to ask you to stay for weeks now. You belong here. With me." 

Aki kisses you again. It’s desperate. You can taste and feel all his desire and sadness poured into it. And you give it right back to him, all your desire and sadness and desperation. You kiss like this for a while, like it’s the last time before Aki pulls back to look at you again, takes one of your hands in his and presses your palm to his groin. His eyes flutter closed briefly when he feels you press against him. You can feel how hard he is beneath your palm. 

"Look what you do to me," he whispers, voice rough. You can’t help the moan that rushes past your lips when you feel his cock pulse in your hand. "Not just right now. Everyday,” Aki brings his face down, ghosting his lips over your cheeks, along your jaw, your lips as he speaks. “When I see you in the morning or before bed, I have to go back to my room and fuck my hand two, maybe three times just so I’m able to function for the day, so I can sleep at night,” He rocks his hips forward, quietly grunting. “I don't think you know the effect you have on me. How badly I've been wanting you, knowing I can’t have you."

Your eyes are shut, simply drowning in the feeling of Aki. You want him too. Badly. You’ve been wanting him for months now. Aki doesn’t know how badly you’ve been trying to keep it platonic between you both, even with the occasional teasing. He has no idea that at night, when the apartment is finally quiet, your hand slides into your panties with nothing but the thought of Aki on your mind.

“I want you, Aki,” you confess softly. You push him back gently, just enough that you can look into his eyes…and you can see through them, straight to his heart when you do. “Let’s have just this one time.”

Your hands glide down Aki’s chest, down his torso and to his belt, unbuckling it before you unbutton his pants and slide them and his boxers down just enough so you can pull his length out. You wrap your hand around him, squeeze gently and Aki whimpers, unable to stop himself from thrusting forward into your hand, desperate for your touch. His lips find yours, tongue quickly entering the warm cavern, your tongues tangling together. He’s big and so hot, so hard, so heavy in your palm. You can feel your arousal dripping down your leg in anticipation of Aki filling you completely. You run your thumb over the tip, already dripping with pre-cum, and use it to lubricate your hand as you stroke his length up and down.

“Ah - ngh, fuck,” Aki pants into your mouth. It makes you moan back into his as he slips a finger inside of you. He pumps into you once, twice, groans because you’re so fucking wet he easily slips two more fingers in.

You’re in your own bubble together, the outside world almost completely forgotten. Almost. You’re out in the open, essentially jerking each other off in a dark alley. You can’t be caught here, Aki with his hand between your legs and you with his cock in your hand. 

You break the kiss, gasping for air, your walls clamping down on Aki’s fingers. You’re so close already. Aki whimpers again when you separate, pressing his forehead to yours as he continues curling his fingers, hitting the exact spot that’s bound to send you over the edge at any moment. And you’re pumping his cock like your life depends on it as you softly murmur:

“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure.”

The words just barely leave your mouth before a moan rushes past your lips, the world blurring around you both in an instant.

And Aki is still pumping into you, you’re still stroking him. Your breaths are mingling together as Aki runs his nose along the bridge of yours, a string of curses leaving his lips as his hips rock forward into your hand. All these weeks of pent up frustration and desire for Aki are starting to come down on you, pooling right in your center where the coil is getting tighter and tighter, ready to snap any second.

And when Aki presses his lips to yours, not kissing you, just whining a needy, “Stay with me,” against your lips, it’s your undoing. Your mouth falls slack with a silent cry as your release rips through your body. You can hear and feel the gush of your orgasm against Aki’s hand, the obscene smacking of his palm meeting your core filling the air. You’re not sure you’ve ever cum so hard in your life just from someone fingering you.

Aki is still thrusting into your hand, groaning loudly against you, at how tight your walls are around his fingers. He’s close too. You can tell by the way his legs shake with each thrust into your hand. He kisses you roughly as he pulls his fingers out of you before he gently pulls your hand from his dick.

“Can I cum in you, baby?” He asks quietly, his own hand wrapping around his cock to use your slick as lubrication. His nostrils flare, jaw clenching as he tries to hold off his own release while he pumps his cock.

You nod. You want to feel him filling your walls, giving you all of him. “Yes, Aki. Give me everything.”

He moans your name, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hoist you up and you wrap your legs around him as he positions himself at your entrance. You’re watching each other, drinking in each other’s fucked out expressions and you think for a quick second that you really could stay here if it means you get to see Aki’s face looking like this everyday. But you can’t. You shake the thought away as quickly as it comes.

Aki lowers you down, pressing forward until just the tip sits inside you. It’s enough to make your pussy squeeze down in anticipation. Just the tip and he already feels so fucking good. He curses under his breath quietly before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your collarbone, then to the crook of your neck.

And it’s like Aki reads your mind because he groans, “You feel so fucking good already,” against your neck as he lowers you down to take more of him inch by inch until he’s fully sitting inside you. The weight of his cock in your walls almost makes you cum right then. It’s a perfect fit.

“Aki,” you whine as he bottoms out immediately, letting out a strangled groan as he wastes no time before he’s fucking into you at a relentless pace. The pleasure shoots up your spine as he stretches your walls over and over.

“Shit, my first and only time having this pussy and I already know I’m gonna miss it so…fucking…much,” Aki moans, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. You keen into the air, gripping onto his shoulders as he talks to you. It’s the only response you’re able to give while he’s fucking into you so hard, so good.

“You gonna miss my cock, baby?” 

“Yes, yes. ‘m gonna miss your cock so much,” you whine. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘m gonna miss you, Aki.”

He grunts at your confession, hips stuttering just a bit as his pace increases and you can feel the telltale signs of your second release coming. Your walls are fluttering, your breath is hitching, you’ve got a vice grip on Aki’s shoulders as he rocks his hips into yours. 

“You gonna cum again baby?” Aki’s hands find your ass, spreading your cheeks so he can further split you open, the loud sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the space of the veil.

“‘m gonna cum, Aki. Fuck, ‘m gonna–”

“Gimme another, baby,” Aki interrupts, groaning loudly. “Gimme another because I’m gonna cum, too.”

He pounds into you, licks a stripe up your neck and to your mouth. And the moment your lips touch, your walls spasm around Aki as your second release shoots through you. Then Aki’s hips are stuttering again and you can feel rope after rope of hot cum spilling into you as Aki pushes his cock as deeply as he can into you while you both whimper loudly into each other’s mouths.

Aki doesn’t stop thrusting even as you come down from your highs, fucking his cum back into you for as long as he can. He could probably go again, but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re already at risk of being caught here. When he finally halts his movements, he pulls back and looks you over, kissing you swiftly before he looks around, clearly confused.

“What is this?” He asks, lifting you up to pull out, hissing quietly when he feels your bodies disconnect. He sets you down on your feet and you look around as well. You’d almost forgotten you put it up.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s a veil,” you tell him as you fix your uniform. Aki gives you a look as if he wants you to further explain more. “It just keeps us hidden. Protected.”

Once Aki has fixed himself up, you drop the curtain. Aki retrieves his sword. He doesn’t ask anymore questions which works in your favor. He doesn’t make it awkward. You don’t talk about what just happened. Aki simply tells you “lets go home.” And you do, but not before asking for your panties back.

That was the first time you’d hooked up with Aki. You didn’t know you’d be stuck in the Devil Hunter’s district with him for weeks after you’d completed your mission. It was weird at first, because you’d fully intended to cut ties with Aki and go back home. But for some reason, your higher ups made you stay.

The awkwardness of adjusting to still living with Aki after sleeping together in a dirty, dark alley soon faded and quickly turned into quick hookups whenever you got the chance. It went from pretending nothing happened to Aki bending you over the bathroom sink in the mornings before Denji and Power got up, you sucking Aki off under his desk at the office, Aki practically fucking you through the mattress every night then you sneaking back to your own room in the morning before Denji and Power woke up. You were sure they knew what was going on. You both weren’t particularly quiet and sneaking back to your room soon turned into you sleeping in Aki’s bed, wrapped in his arms every night.

Every night with Aki brought you two closer, brought you to where you are right now. Sitting in silence on the balcony, drinking the coffee Aki made you while he reads his newspaper and you take in the hustle and bustle of the city below you.

Inside the apartment, the phone rings.

“I’ll get it,” you tell Aki, standing and making your way inside.

You cross through the living room, to the kitchen and pick up the phone from where it’s mounted on the wall. “Hello?”

You hear your name from the other end. It’s one of your higher ups assistants. “Sorry for the delay on this. Now that everything has been reviewed and your mission has been completed, we’ve received word you can return. Would you like to come back today? Or do you need time to get your belongings together?”

You’d never really unpacked in the first place. You lived out of your suitcase. You hadn’t brought much with you to begin with: a couple sets of your uniform, a few casual outfits and sleepwear. But lately, you’ve found yourself lounging around and sleeping in Aki’s large t-shirts, wearing his button ups on casual days out, sometimes letting him treat you to an outfit he sees you eyeing when you’re out and about. They’re all hanging in his closet.

Your gaze falls to the kitchen sink, full of dishes and you roll your eyes because it was Power’s turn to wash them last night. Of course she didn’t, though. You’ll have to literally wrestle her later to do them.

You’ll miss her when you’re gone, aggravating as she may be sometimes. You’ve grown pretty fond of her. And Denji. He sees you more like he sees Power. He no longer tries to “accidentally” catch glimpses of you changing or stare at your chest when you’re all together. Denji considers you a friend more than anything.

Then there’s Aki.

Your gaze lifts back up, catching him eyeing you through the window. And there’s something in his stare that makes your heart leap. There’s adoration in those dark blue eyes of his. He’s looking at you like you hang the moon and every star in the sky just for him. And there’s fear in them, too. Like if you go out there and tell him what he thinks you’re going to tell him, he’ll shatter into a million pieces before you.

“Hello? Are you there?” The assistant on the other end calls. Aki looks away, now staring out over the city. If he looked back, he’d probably see that you look at him like he hangs the moon and every star in the sky just for you.

“Actually, can you send over some transfer paperwork? I think I’m gonna stay.”

Tags: @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @mykyoon @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @alpacapum @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @sukunasseventhfinger @rumi-rants @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300

[sentientgolfball]

Giving you my Delta headcanons cause I’m really trying to not think about the storms in the area

-Delta was the first ghoul in Ministry history to transition elements. In fact, the Clergy had no idea it was even a thing until he came to them with the idea. The notion was of course just simple legend in ghoul culture, but Delta’s heart broke watching the scramble for a new quintessence ghoul. Every failed summoning left him feeling worse, so he came to them with a solution. Water is infinitely more easy to summon than quint.

At first the Clergy thought he was screwing with them and was a liiiittle pissed, but after Special appeared from the shadows and confirmed its very much real they went ahead with it.

-The transition was unfortunately botched. Firstly, it was the first time they were trying one. Things take time to learn. Second, because of how unique quintessence is as an element becoming one is exceptionally difficult. A ghoul can only transition elements if they’re brought to the brink, wholly consumed by the desired element. Delta’s heart stopped during the ritual but Omega refused to let his family die. Delta was only in this mess because of him.

-Unfortunately instead of becoming a full fledged quint he became more of a hybrid. I actually base his design off of an electric eel cause of this. He still has all of his water traits, but now he has more of a purple hue to his skin. His eyes changed the most, no longer deep blue like the oceans, but completely black and void like. Raw quint periodically ripples over his body, barely contained in the vessel made for water.

-He talks to himself a lot now. At first everyone thought his mind was gone, eaten by the void, but when Phantom came along everyone discovered those two share a unique gift. They can see spirits and commune with them. Delta can also see auras.

-If you were to ask Delta the what the worst of it all is he’d tell you it’s the fact that he essentially has no control over any element now. He lost his ability to control water and he can’t take quintessence. He hates it because he could never teach his daughters the things he knew.

-Speaking of his daughters! I have a little storyline in my head that Omega, Delta, and Alpha were all summoned together. A gift from Lucifer Himself to show his approval of the Ghost Project. Delta didn’t tour for a while though because buddy fell head over heels in love with a gorgeous quintessence ghoul. They had kits and Delta didn’t end up touring until he was certain his mate would be okay on their own for a little.

-His daughters grew up with his love of human music. They are water/quint hybrids. The older of the two is Cassiopeia (Cas for short), the younger is Marina. They end up becoming the cellist ghoulettes who performed at the LA rituals.

-Delta may not have been able to teach them what he knew about elemental magic, but he was always their number one when it came to music. He taught them everything he knew. Knowing they were able to perform for the Ghost Project just like he did makes him a little weepy.

[quotergirl19]

Today I keep wondering if this season one Colin line was foreshadowing for season three.

Imagine Penelope’s chosen a beautiful and flattering dress for the first ball of the season because she finally spoke up and convinced her mother to let her control her own wardrobe, and bitchy bully Cressida finds a way to tear the dress and humiliate Penelope who’s rescued by Colin (despite the fact that she’d been avoiding him all night).

Colin sees what Cressida’s done and how upset Penelope is and insists on escorting her home since she’s not quite herself. Her confidence has clearly been crushed and she’s convinced she will end up a spinster after word spreads about her incident.

Colin is desperate to lift Penelope’s spirits the way she did for him when he was at his lowest last season but she won’t listen to him, insisting he’s only pretending to be her friend out of pity. She tells him she knows he’s ashamed of their friendship because she heard the way he spoke about her when she wasn’t around at Featherington Ball.

Colin doesn’t know what to say, he’s horrified that he’d been so careless with his comments, especially because his dearest friend thinks he is ashamed of her. He insists he was only trying to silence those men because they knew he’d sworn off women since Marina and were teasing him because clearly he hadn’t sworn off Penelope that season since they’d been seen together at the races, multiple events and parties and also danced together.

Penelope is apprehensive but after the way Colin swooped in to help her escape the Cressida incident with as few members of the ton noticing her damaged dress as possible (and the fact that she still adores him despite her best efforts to forget her unrequited love), she forgives him but is still very worried that she’s bound for spinsterhood because she’s only ever been criticized by her mother and sisters for her many flaws and she had hoped that night could be a fresh start for her, that she might be able to change the way society sees her, so a nice man among the ton would think her a desirable wife but now she’d probably die alone, never having even been kissed.

When Colin insists hope is not lost, not realizing that Penelope is in a full negativity spiral and she snaps back at him with a thoughtlessly blurted out, “Do you intend to kiss me, Mr. Bridgerton? Oh wait, of course not. You would never dream of kissing me, not even in another man’s wildest fantasy, you would rather die.”

In that moment, standing before him in that shimmering gown with her hair down in the moonlight, her skin glowed and her blue eyes twinkled and she was so beautiful Colin couldn’t help himself. His eyes locked on Penelope’s full, kissable lips and without thinking he leaned in and took her in his arms, shocked by the immediate and intense passion between them when she kissed him back.

In an instant, they pulled apart, Colin stunned that he’d just taken such a liberty with Penelope, immediately proposes and Penelope, equally shocked by what just happened, dismissively, thanks him for seeing her home safely, tells him they will never speak of what happened and she goes inside leaving Colin wondering why the girl who always looked at him like he hung the moon, and who clearly wanted a husband wouldn’t want to marry him.

Penelope is literally up all night thinking of that kiss before she knows it the sun has risen and she’s never even dressed for bed.

Colin spent the rest of that night grappling with why he was so moved by one kiss and so bothered by Penelope refusing him. He finds himself wanting her to want him because the kiss they shared was soul stirring and he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.

When they run into each other browsing merchant’s carts, neither of them speak of the kiss but it’s clear something has changed between them. Penelope is still determined to marry this season. Colin is eager to do anything he can to secure Penelope’s happiness, seemingly oblivious to the way he’s started following her around like a lovesick puppy, and every time their eyes meet, the unspoken secret of the one perfect kiss they shared is all either of them is thinking of.

[dicktat]

*grabbie hands* gimme the greek myth au, who’s who in the pantheon???👀👀

Hiiiiiiiiii I’m glad you asked!!!

I think I touched on this silly topic a while ago with you and it’s brief for now but really you can add to it!!!

So far we got:

Aiden/Hermes: this one is simple this boy runs fast and he’s such an icon, he’d be running around doing errands and being a little agent of chaos. And guess what? His other job is sending human spirits to Hades and spoiler! That’s his old man. Yes I’m shoving my Aiden Waltz bio son agenda here too.

Hakon/Aphrodite: because of course. He’s got four wives and no one fits his title better. Also imagine him wearing something like this. With luscious braided hair and the pretties eyes able to make anyone weak for him.

Lawan/Artemis: need I explain further with her and her stupid crossbow?

Waltz/Hades: let’s be real I’m a hades apologist, this man is the most unproblematic amongst the few options here and I think the renegades as faction is very fitting when it comes to underworldly aesthetics

Vincenzo/Hephaestus: forging! Also he needs more love, he’s fucking awesome

Sophie/Athena: she always strikes me as the intelligent type, and I can see her with very silky blonde hair in this au wearing something like this

Barney/Ares: I know you’re here for your boy so I have to include him. I’m choosing ares because of his brash and unpredictable personality and how that little rascal is eager to start a war in Villedor.

Aitor/Poseidon: okay this is mainly because of that one thing in Greek mythology where Poseidon and Athena fights each other for the role of protector for a city named “Athens” and yes can you guess where I’m going with this. It’s uncannily similar to what the game is about, plus the fact Poseidon sending a flood to punish the city is also similar to PK attacks. And he’s blue lol.

Juan/Dionysus: honestly? The idea that started this whole au. This role just fits him perfectly and I’d say he’d wear something like this

Rowe/Apollo: this is me bringing my headcanons into this but I see Lawan and him being very brother and sister like so call me biased tho I’m still going with this. Ironically he’s terrible at singing and perfect for the role of god of music/j

I also have other ideas which I haven’t finalized. Like I would like to add either Demeter or Thanatos, and possible Thalia. This is an incredibly self indulgent au with a lot of stupid headcanons but I’m hoping you’re enjoying this so far and if anyone is remotely interested with this please please please send me asks or add on to it. For real I would love to actually make this into a thing with more characters that anyone can enjoy!

[theyellowobsessedwriter]

The brain said "cheesy and wholesome", but turns out I don't exactly know how to do that, lol. Take this as my best attempt at it.

Azutara Teashop AU, part 1 of maybe 5? 1793 words.

Not for all the tea in Ba Sing Se - Part 1

Azula had never held much appreciation for Ba Sing Se. In her eyes, the city's greatest quality was the corrupt and fragile system of government that had allowed her to pull off a coup d'état within a week, but that wasn't exactly something that could be admired and savored from the outside. Also, who knew if the puppet king had yet started to learn anything from the lessons that had been beaten into him.

Point was, Azula's opinion of the Earth Kingdom's capital wasn't likely to improve now, not when the perspective from which to look at it was that of the dilapidated streets around the teashop. She did enjoy the not-so-subtle irony in that both conquerors of the city were now behind a counter, serving its citizens… as much as that could improve her mood.

Working in the back of the shop, among whistling kettles and pastries to be baked, had at least the advantage of sparing her the sight of the former crown prince of the Fire Nation mingling with those he’d had the nerve to call "respectable customers". For all the obvious flaws the old man hardly made any effort to hide, the show of the Dragon of the West sinking so low would for sure affect her mental health in counterproductive ways. And they had already established during the initial days that Azula's talents did not lie in the front of the house.

Spirits help her understand what had gone through the minds of Zuzu and the Avatar when they’d proposed this probation agreement, but far be it from her to miss an opportunity of reducing by a year the time spent in that useless lunatic asylum. Though, to be honest, not having electrocuted her uncle when he’d commented that the experience would help her “turning over a new leaf”, should’ve been a sufficient display of self-restraint to grant her pardon on the spot.

She irritably rang the bronze bell for the third time, without anyone coming to take the tray from the pass. Instead, as if to mock her further, the old man's laughter resonated even louder in the room. Azula grabbed the order herself, almost throwing it onto table ten and then stomping towards her worm sloth of an uncle.

However, as soon as she got close enough to the booth, where he’d even allowed himself to sit down beside his consumers, she regretted ever having left the back. Because those people talking to her uncle weren't just any patrons, no. They were none others than the Southern Water Tribe siblings.

— … happy to finally be able to sit in the new shop and order something, — the girl was saying with a toothy smile.

— When I heard about your arrival, I really hoped that you’d manage to spare an hour to come and visit!

The first one to notice her was the peasant nonbender, at which point Azula realized that her time window for a strategic retreat had vanished. She approached the table, causing the conversation to suddenly die down, but she didn't spare the two foreigners another glance and simply said: — I'd like to remind you that we have other tables to take care of, uncle.

The two commoners kept staring at her. And there some who considered Azula to be the one who didn't know how to behave in social situations.

Her uncle's expression had become neutral as she saw her appear. — Of course. Would you be so kind as to take our guests' orders, then?

The Fire Nation princess opened her mouth to clarify that, first, she wasn't kind, and especially not so kind as to willingly humiliate herself in front of the Avatar's friends. Still, her uncle didn't wait to hear a single word and vanished with a speed that was supernatural for someone his size.

Azula blinked. Her gaze then fell back on the two guests, taking a moment to study them better. Both of them stood out like a sore thumb amidst the shop, dressed in blue and white as they were, though their fashion was embarrassingly basic for the role of war heroes and ambassadors which, she’d heard in passing, they had taken on. The boy (she couldn't remember his name. Suki? No, maybe Suki was someone else) had a few extra hairs on his chin that perhaps represented an attempt to grow a beard, but otherwise neither he nor his sister looked very different than the last time they met; the latter had only changed hairstyle, sporting her mane natural. A variation that suited her, noticed Azula's mortified-but-certainly-not-forgotten sense of taste.

Despite hating her own concern, the princess shuddered at what the pair of siblings must’ve been thinking of her right now. With her long, perfectly groomed hair a distant memory, wearing only a baggy green tunic and the shop apron, even the crumbling version of herself during the Agni Kai had appeared much better.

The waterbender had started to nervously fiddle with the menu, while her brother cleared his throat and began: — Well… long time no see, huh?

That lameness should’ve been far more illegal than any war crime the court had ever thought of charging Azula with.

— Welcome to The Jasmine Dragon, — she replied instead, choosing to hide behind the routine she’d memorized through her attempts at serving tables. — We are proud to serve the best tea in Ba Sing Se. Customer satisfaction is our priority, so take a minute to consider your options and all the combinations that the menu includes. If you would like to experiment with some variation, just ask and we will try to accommodate you.

Their expressions now turned into those of two people who just saw a nine-headed platypus bear appear in front of them. Her uncle hated that introduction she had written as well, but Azula remembered it being more or less what a waiter had recited the only time she'd set foot in a teashop, and it had been much classier a place than The Jasmine Dragon, so it had to count for something.

— Okay, um, — the waterbender muttered, scanning the menu. — I think I'll have…

— We also serve peach oolong as a seasonal specialty.

— Oh, right.

— So, Azula… — the other peasant interjected, sparing no thought for her rightful title — do tell, would you say it was a shock to adapt to life in Ba Sing Se?

She clenched her jaw. — … my uncle also recommends the lotus-flavored green tea.

— Wow, don’t you look crazy about this job? — This time he earned a jab from his own sister. — What?

— Really? — the girl hissed.

— Alright, let me just try something.

The southern native leaned toward Azula to wave a hand in front of her face, and her reflexes took over, slapping it away.

— Ouch! — he complained with a pout. — Well, thank goodness. I was wondering if Long Feng had brainwashed you into a Joo Dee or whatever.

The waterbender giggled behind her palm, and Azula only then realized that, at some point during the interaction, a forced smile worthy of the Dai Li's army of tour guides had appeared on her lips. That realization alone was enough for the corners of her mouth to turn downwards into a grimace.

— If you want to order something — she blurted out, in a harsh tone that invigorated her incredibly — just do it, or leave!

He gave her a pacifying gesture. — Easy, easy. That's what I was going to do anyway. Tea and cakes is not for me, I’d rather go check out the food stalls down the street. And you be careful with your order, you know what happens in teashops to unwanted customers, — he concluded, addressing his sister.

And with such words he left, although not before he shot Azula a glare that took her a couple of seconds to decipher as a warning.

She frowned a bit. — What in the spirits’ name was he referring to?

— I think he meant they spit in their tea.

— How barbaric. He should undoubtedly reconsider the places he frequents.

Now Azula received a curious look, only adding to her frustration.

— I guess some things never change, — the guest quietly said.

Perhaps. But the biggest revolution, one the Fire Nation’s princess had already had the opportunity to observe and of which she was seeing more and more confirmations around her, was that people no longer acted afraid of her. The distrust remained, but the fear had vanished. The truly disturbing fact seemed to be that she was already starting to get used to it.

— As for your order…

— Peach oolong sounds perfect.

— Any pastries?

— Um, only some butter cookies, if you have any.

— Obviously. — She risked giving the girl a sidelong glance. — Just try not to keep my uncle at the table. Even if it doesn't seem like it, he has work to do. — She was about to add: “If you intend to lounge, you can very well do it at home”, but, considering that uncle and niece now shared the same apartment, it would only mean more headaches for her.

— Ah, by the way… — the waterbender resumed as she handed her the menu. — It's Katara, from the Southern Water Tribe.

— What?

— My name, — the girl clarified, furrowing her brow.

It was Azula's turn to stare. — I know. Why do you feel the need to repeat it?

— You… Oh. I thought… I really believed you didn't remember. It's not as if, well, we were ever formally introduced.

— It’d be hard to miss your name, it's been tremendously popular in the last three years. — Along with her brother's… whatever it was. She may have learned it at some point during the war, but then it slipped from her memory once it had no more utility.

The gaffe seemed to make the waterbender blush, though it was slightly hard to tell with her complexion. Something about the whole situation didn't sit well with Azula's mind. The entire Avatar’s posse may indeed be made of insufferable, sappy do-gooders, but this girl acted far too calm and well-disposed towards her. And it was plain as day that she wasn’t the kind of person who’d be good at pretending.

— I'll go make your tea, — she announced, impatiently turning on her heel.

For a moment Katara looked like someone rapidly searching for an appropriate response to give but, with Azula's sudden parting, the reply never came.

The firebender made sure to use the menu to hit her uncle on her way to the kitchen, and regained a satisfied smirk when he almost fell flat over the table of the customers he was chatting with. After closure, she would reiterate the fact that she didn’t want to take orders again in her life. Not for all the tea in Ba Sing Se.

[dispatchwithlove]

In Your Arms Chapter 9: Heat

(old chapter, i just love this part)

When he’d first laid eyes on her it hadn't been her height that he noticed, but the immense quality of her spirit. From his desk, he and Nihlus had watched her approach. She wore black military-style boots, but shorter, just to the ankle. Black unbuttoned jacket, black pants, and a light blue shirt neatly tucked in but also defiantly loose. Her hair, shorter then, framed her face, brushing her cheeks as she turned to take in the room, her desk, him, with green, sharp eyes flicking from one place to the next. She was so warm, soft but searing. He’d immediately felt lulled, but also on edge, like something important was about to happen, and he better be ready for it.   

How do you tell someone they came into your life like a supernova, though, tipping an equilibrium, setting everything ablaze, without admitting that you’d been mesmerized by them ever since?

Measure it back, of course. “I thought you looked strong, and smart,” he said, voice steady but still too warm. “And when you told Nihlus to get his ass off your desk, and he actually listened to you, I thought I was luckier than all the other detectives, so I better hold on to you. Damned glad that I did.”

Her smile didn’t fade, but something happened, some shift in her demeanor that was so subtle, and so sudden, that he wasn’t sure if his words were the cause, or something else. The scattered starry warmth in her eyes gathered into sparkling clusters. 

Suddenly she felt too close, too close for him to keep her in a compartment where his feelings didn’t overtake the space between them. 

His chuckle was meant to wash away the awkward silence, but then he felt pulled into her so close and so tight, that the birds, the coffee shop, and all the quick-footed people shifting down the sidewalk blurred. It didn’t feel like he was sinking, or lifting, but spinning. The galaxy spun and all he felt was heavy and solid and all he saw was her. 

“Not going to share your actual first impression of me?” he asked, trying to settle despite the whirling. 

She was going to say something funny, thankfully, he could tell in the way she kept her face straight but hunched her shoulders an inch. Her hand rustled her hair.   

“My first thought was that they would’ve recruited more people if they'd sent you to Earth to stand next to the asari C-Sec rep.”

“The unhinged, uptight turian? Pardon my pessimism, but I’m doubting your sincerity.” 

She smirked. “Notice that I said stand there , not open your mouth . You’re pretty, but…”

A laugh pulled out of him, his mandibles fanning out wide. 

When they stopped chuckling she said, “I was terrified, honestly. But you kept your talons filed, and no one else did. And you lifted me up on crates when other humans were told to focus on evidence easier to get to. And you were funny. And you liked my cat, and you were so sweet to Gran and Papa when they wanted to get to know you. Didn’t take long to see that I got lucky, too.”

As the last note left her, everything slowed, but the heavy feeling persisted. How could she not know how easy it had been, being her partner? It should have felt like a struggle, like it did for everyone else, but it never felt that way to him.   

“Ed and Alice are wonderful,” he said. “ My family…”

“Is perfect.”

“Forced you to come over for dinner once a month.”

“It was nice enjoying a meal with a family. It was something to look forward to… Still is.”

They stopped talking then, only smiled with the chickadees over their heads hmming to each other. Just as Garrus thought it would take a cataclysm to pry their gazes apart the chickadees burst from their perch into the bright sun, Jane’s eyes sank down to her omni-tool, and he was left staring at her, pulling in a quick breath. 

“Shit, we’re late,” she said. 

He stood. “Yeah.” 

Everything stilled, finally. The sky-bound birds with flickering wings, the packed coffee shop, the rushing people, all settled, tethered by rigid rope to solid ground. 

His mind focused on maps, streets, traffic lights and travel times from point A to point B. A car shooting thruster patterns into free-growing grass, and a watch lying haphazardly on a wet concrete ledge. 

They had a case to solve with, so far, no leads. 

[breitzbachbea]

Help me, I'm Holding On For Dear Life

So. For the past few days, I have spent an inconsolable amount of hours annoying @someone-you-do-not-know with an AU idea: Alternative history, some world that resembles the late 18th and early 19th century. I'm mostly concerned with social rules and etiquette around marriage and love. Michele and Harry have been happily courting each other for a year, only waiting to get the go-ahead from Michele's parents to make it all official. Suddenly, out of the blue, it is announced to Michele that his father has betrothed him to Antonio, the son of a count. Invited to the wedding and arriving for the engagement and to assist with the wedding are Michele's relatives, the Vargas family. Which is how Lovino finds himself his cousin's best man and soon the confidante of his fiancé. Literally NO ONE is happy with this arrangement.

TLDR: SicIre in a Romeo and Juliette bind, Spamano as pining idiots with only themselves to blame, SpaSic as the arranged marriage that causes the predicament in the first place. And you all should totally listen to the Stage Musical Version of El Tango De Roxanne and feel Harry's and Lovino's pain as you read this.

Here's the fic - enjoy!

"I hate –" Lovino said.

" – this display,“ Harry got out through gritted teeth.

~*~

Certainly, Charlie was right that this was masochism right now. “And now Frecky, what you were into when you were in bed with Michele is none of my business, but … this isn’t it, is it now?”

It was easier to bear now, in a way. To see Michele look with a certain fondness at Antonio. Hear him laugh at whatever jokes the idiot made. Harry knew it wasn’t forever, since he intended to keep the promise he’d given Michele and he knew Michele knew that. The plan to elope with was all that occupied him in every minute he could spare and also any that he couldn’t. This wasn’t forever. This was an act. See! Antonio leant in for a kiss and Michele leant away.

Afterwards he shyly batted his eyelashes. Oh, how he wished he could see him and he didn’t have to hide away in the rafters. But such was the lot; any contact was forbidden, any trace of their relationship that had been so publicly obvious to anyone who laid eyes upon them now nothing but a whisper.

It did pain him. Charlie was right. But he couldn’t help it – hadn’t been able to help it since the first moment. He still remembered being there on their engagement night. Hidden away in the crowd but in the room nonetheless, thanks to Charlie’s connections and ability to charm people. That engagement night was seared into his mind’s eye. Sometimes, when he laid awake at night with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he remembered it and saw red.

His Michele. His beloved, witty, spirited, wicked in the best of ways Michele in his best suit, a smile on his face he could never keep for long. At the side of this trumped up, pomped up, happy-go-lucky Count’s son. So proud and so regal to have some half-forgotten city nobility hang off his arm – and who wouldn’t when it had a face like this! A voice like this that had serenaded Harry, not this peacock! An elegance that even made the suit that could not hold a candle to half the guests in the room look as if it was fine silk! Stolen valour it was, all this prick had to do was rich and have a title that Michele’s father wanted!

He had done nothing to earn Michele’s laugh, but now he got to hear it. His dark chuckle, not that high, ringing tone that was Michele’s earnest laughter, of course. Still, to see it and not hear it over the people had been enough to make Harry’s heart sink into his guts. This Antonio had done nothing to deserve it, but he was the one to hold Michele’s hand in his grasp. To gently stroke it while he looked him in the eyes and Harry had felt his limbs gone numb.

He had lifted his hand and put it on Michele’s cheek, a touch that Harry was so familiar with that he could feel it on his own hand and it made his arm tremble. To see Antonio lean close to Michele, his cheek brushing with the other’s – it had driven Harry insane that he could not see what the rest of his face was doing. Whether he was whispering something in Michele’s ear, Harry suddenly was able to remember every single innuendo, love confession and line of poetry he had ever whispered to Michele, or to have his lips brush against Michele’s soft cheek, his own caressed by Michele’s hair –

Harry had been overcome with rage. Every single muscle in his body had tightened up, a heat stoked in the depth of his guts that boiled his brain in rage. A careless whisper, a thoughtless provocation – in this moment he had been ready to kill Antonio. Anything to make this farce stop. Anything to vanish the mockery of his love, a mockery that was sold to him as exaltation of it all and only he could see it as the counterfeit it was, everyone else dazzled by the fool’s gold. Anything to prevent the doom that was the thought of never, ever again getting to experience the treasure that Antonio was holding. It was more than he could stand.

That was the engagement night. Now, as he watched them from the rafters, his emotions didn’t run as high. This wasn’t for forever – still, reassurance would be nice as he looked onto the couple. If only Michele, after he kissed Antonio on the cheek, could spot him and blow a kiss his way. Anything to satisfy the beast within him with its murmur of doubt that it was for forever. That the way Michele sometimes looked at Antonio was not a shade of the love he had for Harry, but the growing bud of passion.

No, his Michele would never betray him. He knew how much Harry loved him and he’d never throw that away. That had to suffice as Harry slipped into the shadows.

~*~

“Do you want a glass of sherry, Lovi? I heard it’s lovely,” Feliciano asked as Lovino was staring grimly at Antonio and their cousin.

“No, thanks,” Lovino said without facing his brother.

“Uh … anything else you might need?”

“Nothing.”

Feliciano sighed and sat down next to him. “Really nothing? Not thinking of anything that could cheer you up right now?”

“Nothing short of that pest being hit by lightning,” he said and it was hard to get the words through his tensed jaw. Oh, Antonio was in a good mood, wasn’t he? Made Michele laugh again – or rather, Michele laughed along out of kindness, as that duplicitous snake surely would have put it – and leant in for another kiss that was denied to him even mid-laugh.

“Man, do you think there’s something in the attic?” Feliciano said with an confused and annoyed expression towards the ceiling and Lovino finally turned to him.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, I just thought I heard something stomping overhead. Probably imagining things.”

“Huh. Probably.” He couldn’t help it, he had to look back towards the couple. Antonio still had his arm around Michele who didn’t even acknowledge it. Water from a stone would have been easier for Antonio than love from his fiancé, but of course he couldn’t say that. At least not in front of all these people. Sycophants, all of them, and he was one due to peer pressure. Michele made a match that made everyone green with envy and he looked into his wineglass and twirled it as if he wanted to drown himself in it. And still, Antonio’s arm around his waist.

“Feli, do you think this is fair?”

“Huh? What, Lovino?”

“Do you think it’s fair that Michele, who doesn’t got half the shit to his name that we do, gets to marry a future count? That I’m made to play best man instead of taking care of my own future wedding with someone who deserves me?” As much as he wanted to simmer in his own rage and let it be fuelled by the event in front of his eyes, he did turn sensible and to his brother.

“Well … yeah, I don’t think it’s fair,” Feliciano said. “Between you and him, it should be you engaged to someone like Antonio. Seriously, sometimes I wonder if Mamma is right and Uncle Salvatore is blackmailing Fernando or something.”

“Quite right! It should be me!” Lovino said and downed the rest of his wine in one. “I should be engaged – I should be married! To a count! A duke! Not play Michele’s best man! Not always have to hear ‘Oh, congratulations on Feliciano’s match, where are your plans? Gonna have to work hard to trump your brother, won’t you, Lovino?’ And then that laughter! I loathe the laughter! They can all shove it up their ass, for all I care!” He glared at his wineglass. “I changed my mind about the sherry.”

“I don’t think I should get you sherry anymore,” Feliciano responded. He winced when Lovino glared at him, but quickly found his tongue again: “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. Mamma is of the same mind as you, so you’re gonna have a wedding that puts both me and Michele to shame!” He grinned, so reassuringly and confident that Lovino wished he could smile. But it was easy for Feliciano to believe that everything would fall into his lap. Lovino himself had always worked hard to keep that illusion for him.

A ruckus from the betrothed table – oh dear Lord, it looked like someone should have told Antonio no to the sherry as well. Lovino was about to down the whole barrel to make the view bearable. Michele, pulled into Antonio’s lap, hands on his shoulders to save some distance for his modesty’s sake. He looked genuinely surprised by this – well, maybe if Lovino didn’t have to spend most evenings with either of the sadsacks, mostly Antonio though, Michele wouldn’t be so surprised at his fiancé’s touch. And Antonio wouldn’t have to resort to desperate measures like stroking his face gently with his fingertips, obviously negotiating a kiss with his big, green eyes and that sweet and excited smile on his face.

Michele shook his head. Lovino’s hands balled into a fist.

Antonio cocked his head and said something else and Michele sighed.

“Where’s that fucking sherry,” Lovino asked and pulled his chair back, got to his feet wit his eyes still on that ghastly spectacle of the kiss. Pity kiss it was, for both of them, but neither of them knew that. Sure, Michele thought he was kissing Antonio out of pity, but he still thought that the other was naïve enough to fall in love with him. As if he was the hot commodity, he thought himself to be. As if he was deserving of all of this. If he was, then so was Lovino! Tenfold! A hundredfold!

“Look, they’re playing again! Come on Lovino, let’s find someone to dance with!” Feliciano grabbed his brother’s arm. “Let’s show them how it’s done!” He grinned and Lovino was somewhat soothed in his rage.

Until there was a tap on his shoulder. Unorthodox and plump way to ask him, really, what oaf was this impatient and –

He turned around and nearly jumped back into Feliciano when he found himself faced with Antonio himself.

“Did I scare you? I’m so sorry, Vino!” Antonio laughed, sheepishly but heartily. His face was tinted red with blush, the sherry’s work, surely. Not Michele’s. Not Lovino’s …

“Vino?” Feliciano asked and Lovino could hear that curious smile in his brother’s voice, not to mention could feel Feliciano lean onto him. Alright, enough of that all.

“Man, get it together!” Lovino told Antonio. “First that shameless display with Michele, then calling me nicknames – Only because your dad’s not around doesn’t mean you need to be embarrassing.”

“Ah, yes, I guess that’s right,” Antonio said. “But … no one’s parents are around! No chaperones tonight, so let’s live a little, we deserve it, don’t we! You, too, Lovino!”

“I’m enjoying myself, thank you very much,” Lovino responded staunchly.

“Did you come to ask Lovino for a dance?” Feliciano asked and there went that staunchness.

“Oh, no, I didn’t,” Antonio answered.

“Quite right!” Lovino answered, but Feliciano was convinced to dig a deeper grave for him:

“Aww, you should. No chaperones around and all! I bet everyone would be jealous of you two!”

Through gritted teeth, he managed to murmur out: “Feli, quit talking.”

“I bet, but I don’t want to hog Lovino’s fun.” He leant closer to Lovino and put his hand in front of his mouth. “Actually, I just wanted to tell you that you don’t need to wait on me or Michele tonight, we’ll spend the night together. I thought a notice would be courteous, since you always keep us such good company – no need for it tonight. Please, enjoy yourself.”

A kick in the face would have been kinder. “S-Sure,” Lovino said. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for the heads up. Finally, some time to myself!”

Antonio put his hands on his shoulders and smiled gratefully at him. “You deserve it, really. I don’t know how I deserve your help, I am in so much debt to you.” His smile grew. “Now! Let’s find a dancing partner, will you!” He patted his shoulder before he turned, doubtlessly to return to Michele.

Feliciano blew out a sigh. “You sit around and talk with him all the time, seriously, he should marry you and not Michele.”

“Will you shut up?!” Lovino asked and whirled around. Feliciano wasn’t much impressed, the pout on his face matching his voice.

“I mean it! It’s like he’s leeching off of all your hard work!”

“I’m not doing this because I want Michele’s fiancé! I’m just doing it because Papà asked me to! And I don’t need to – Whatever! I’m going home!” Lovino turned around and headed for the door.

“Lovi! Come on! I’m sorry, if it’s what I said!” Feliciano hurried after him while he stomped off. "Don’t let that ruin your night! Let’s dance! Drink! You have no obligations tonight!”

“Yeah, like the non-obligation of staying here!” He ripped the door open.

~*~

Outside were two hooded figures, a few meters from the entrance but still within the gates. They seemed to be arguing.

“Are you sure your ankle’s fine?”

“Yeah! I just … maybe the fall wasn’t as well-calculated as it should have been …”

“Good, because I’m not getting Paddy! Or carrying you!”

“Good, because I don’t need it! Let’s just – “

“Who the hell are you?” Lovino asked and the two jumped. For a moment they faced him and he looked into two very pale, very freckled faces. Jesus, he had never seen someone with eyebrows this big on either of them.

“Isn’t this the country ball of the count?” The slightly taller one asked – a man, thinner than the other one. He lacked a tooth.

“Private event, I’m afraid,” Lovino said.

“How did you even get past the gates?” Feliciano asked.

“Aww, darn it,” said the other one, apparently a young woman. “Thought there’d be fun to have. Well, then we’ll be on our merry way! Goodbye, gentlemen!” She turned to go, but he seemed suddenly transfixed by whatever was going on inside. “Harry?”

Lovino made the mistake to look over his shoulder.

Of course, there they were. Antonio, who turned around, Michele at his hand, to lead him to the dancefloor. That bright and expectant, hopeful, delusional smile on his face as Michele chuckled and cocked his head. He briefly kissed Antonio’s hand before they parted to take their positions.

“Harry, come on, we’ve got to go.” She took the man’s arm and he looked to the ground, brows still furrowed and a frown on his parted lips. As if he was a mirror to Lovino’s emotions.

Lovino shook his head. The figures were already hurrying towards the gate.

“Strange …” Feliciano said.

“I don’t know, maybe they were beggars or something,” Lovino said. “Or some jealous pricks that didn’t get invited. Who cares? They’re gone. And so am I.”

“Aw, come on, Lovino – “

[clementine-thedestroyer]

(Just more of me yapping about Simon in a Legend of Zelda AU, first post can be found here)

When talking about Simon being Link in a BOTW AU, I imagine him as looking pretty rough- at least compared to Link.

I mean, he’s tall and pretty well built, that alone would make him pretty intimidating. I know the longer hair would be pretty on him, but I’m inclined to say he comes out of the Shrine of Resurrection with kind of like a buzz cut, but then as he goes around Hyrule doing his thing (smacking bokoblins, eating things he shouldn’t) it starts to grow out more and more. I think it would be a cool little way of showing him changing as he adjusts to Hyrule and becomes more confident in minding the hand he’s been dealt.

I also see him as having a few scars, I’m not sure how the Shrine of Resurrection is supposed to work, but we’re going to say it let him keep his battle scars.

He’s got one across his upper lip, starting under one of the high point’s of his Cupid’s bow and going diagonally up and out. He’s got another stretching from his brow to his hairline, along with a particularly ugly one where he’d nearly had his ear torn off.

Naturally, he keeps the earrings. They’re essential, and Simon would look hot in Link’s iconic little blue hoops. And of course, the champions tunic is still a thing, but I think he has some sort of brown scarf or handkerchief with a traditional design (similar to what’s on the Hylian or champion’s tunic) that he pulls up over his mouth and nose whenever he’s in crowded places or doesn’t want people to talk to him.

He’s also a frequent user of the Hylian hood, likely in conjunction with his little mask. That combined with his stature and frame is enough to make most people duck their heads. He doesn’t like being recognized as who he is, partially because he hates the attention, and partially because he feels so disconnected from who he was. How could he not? The old Simon was gone, what was left of him rattled around in Simon’s brain like a caged animal. Simon was not Simon.

Maybe that’s where the moniker of Ghost came from- he didn’t want to be called by the same name of the man that he was trying so hard to distance himself from.

Or maybe he never began going by Ghost, maybe it was just an off handed comment shared under the stars with the pretty girl he met at the stable in the Tabantha Snowfields who didn’t seem to mind his aversion to speak or show his face.

Maybe it was just a whispered admittance that he felt more like the ghost of Simon haunted him than anything else.

I know people are divided over whether they read Link as completely mute, selectively mute, or not mute at all, but at least for this AU, I’m going with the selectively mute route. As in, Simon will avoid speaking if at all possible. Mostly nodding his head, pointing, or using other means of communicating whenever possible. It gets worse the more people who’re there, especially if they’re strangers, and the only exceptions are Mipha’s spirit, Zelda, maybe the other champion’s spirits (excluding Revali), and maybe the girl from the stable if we’re still including the x reader aspect of this.

For Mipha, it’s frankly because it’s Mipha. She’s genuinely one of the sweetest people(?) ever, and operating off the idea that Simon feels really disconnected from himself before loosing his memories, and that they’re almost haunting him, I think that the past closeness of his relationship with Mipha would make her one of the only people he might be able to speak around. I also think that talking with her about who he used to be might help him get some closure and better understanding of who he was before. It’s similar with Daruk and Urbosa- although probably to far lesser extents. With Daruk, maybe it’s more of the kind of comfort that comes with having a stupid friend that you can always rely on to fuck around with- or in Simon’s case, knowing that he used to.

Btw the part where Link/Simon ate rocks is cannon in this AU.

[thattrable]

a Night of Wings and Roses

Summary: Feyre asks Azriel to escort Elain out for a night in Velaris.

Notes: Mature / Spoilers for the entire ACOTAR series.

Sneak peak:

“Because I. . .” Azriel looked down at the forest they flew over for a moment before looking back at her gorgeous face. “Because it’s hard to be around you. Every second that I’m in your presence, I feel like I’m fighting for my life. I’m trying to keep my composure when all I really want to do is taste you, protect you, tell you how strongly I feel for you.”

_____

The sky was painted deep shades of pink and purple, the last of the golden light disappearing behind snow-capped mountains as the sun set on Velaris.

Azriel flew above the city, watching the people bustle through the streets. They were all either completely unaware that one of the strongest Illyrian warriors in history, their High Lord’s spymaster, flew above them, or they simply did not care. Az shifted his wings and banked right to follow the sparkling sapphire waters of the Sidra River. Though it was spring, the night air was still crisp and the wind stung his face and bare hands. It was a relief to land on the balcony of the River House and walk into the warm sitting room.

No one was present to greet him, though he needed no invitation to further enter the house. Az flexed his wings, taking in the warmth from the fire place, and sent his shadows out to locate Feyre. They returned quickly and whispered in his ear that she was in the nursery. They also whispered of another presence in the house. Not that he’d needed them to tell him she was here; He’d scented her the moment he entered the threshold.

He would have to make this visit quick.

Azriel strode through the halls of the spacious house and couldn’t help but wonder how Feyre had made such a large, elegant manor feel so cozy.

As he approached the nursery he allowed his normally silent footsteps to fall a little heavier, signaling his arrival. He came to a stop in the doorway and Feyre looked up at him, her blue-gray eyes shining. Azriel nodded his head in greeting, but his eyes fell to Nyx, sleeping soundly in her arms. Tiny-He was still so tiny, so delicate. But fierce. Az had seen the spirit in the babe’s eyes and knew he would be just as wild and unruly as he and his brothers had been as kids.

The thought had Azriel itching to take him to the skys. He and Cassian had already spent hours debating over which techniques they would teach him when he was old enough- Nevermind that Rhys would want to teach his own son to fly.

“Az?” Feyre said softly, drawing his attention back to her. He wondered how long he’d been silent.

Azriel crossed the room silently and held out the small stack of books he’d been carrying. “I hope these are the right ones.”

Feyre shifted Nyx to one arm and took the books with her free hand. “These are perfect,” she said, examining the colorful covers of the children’s books. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He replied, his eyes again watching the still-sleeping babe. Feyre had asked him to bring some books from the library at the House of Wind so she could read to Nyx.

“Could you do another favor for me?” Feyre asked, placing the books on a nearby table.

“Anything.”

“I had plans to go out with Elain tonight, but Nyx has been fussy and I finally got him to sleep.” She looked down at her son, then back up at Az. “Would you mind?”

Azriel’s heart began drumming in his chest. “I didn’t realize Nyx was giving you trouble.” He eyed her suspiciously. Nyx was one of the least fussy infants he’d ever seen, not that he’d been around many.

Feyre looked away, but not before Az caught the ghost of a smile on her lips. “He’s usually so good, I think he’s just had an off day. I should stay home with him tonight. That’s why I asked you to bring the books. Rhys will be home soon and I’d like to spend the evening with them. ” She turned to him again, and this time her smile was lupine. “I just figured since you're here . . . You could escort Elain.”

Lupine indeed, his High Lady. Intelligent enough to trap him into this. She knew. He was sure of it. Feyre was extremely observant, especially when it came to the romantic lives of the Inner Circle. He was sure she’d noticed the sudden increase in work that kept him away and the way he skipped many family dinners. If he was being honest with himself, he was just surprised it had taken her this long to step in and meddle in his love life. On many occasions, his shadows had warned him of Feyre’s watchful eyes as he stared longingly at Elain from across the room.

Azriel started to open his mouth to object but she cut him off. “She misses you, Az.”

He averted his eyes, and in a low voice said, “No, she doesn’t.”

“Please,” She scoffed. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I’ve also seen the way you look at her.”

Azriel stiffened defensively, as if his body was subconsciously preparing for battle.

Feyre released a long-suffering sigh. “I know you think I’m being a busybody, but I just want you both to be happy.

His hazel eyes widened. Feyre laughed. "Relax, Az, I'm just asking you to take her out on the town, not take her to bed."

"Yes, but Rhys-" He protested, heat blooming high on his cheeks.

"Rhys will enjoy some extra time with me and our son,” she nodded towards the sleeping babe in her arms, “and if he wants to be angry with anyone about this, he will be angry with me. I'm giving you an order, as your High Lady; take Elain out and show her a good time.”

And that was that. Azriel simply nodded. Feyre almost never pulled rank with any of them, even less than Rhys.

"And as your friend," Feyre continued, stepping closer and gently placing a hand on his upper arm, "I'm asking you to stop worrying so much. You should enjoy yourself too." She smiled, and Az had to admit defeat.

"I will show Elain a good time, as well as keep her safe." He dipped his head, kissing Feyre’s temple, then leaned lower and kissed Nyx's head. The babe stirred in her arms, but did not wake.

“Thank you, Azriel.”

“I’ll be in the sitting room.” He muttered, stalking out of the nursery.

—--

“I thought I’d find you here.” Feyre said by way of greeting as she entered the kitchen. Nyx was blinking lazily in her arms, as if he’d just woken up.

Elain, seated at the kitchen table, closed the book she’d been reading. “Feyre. I was just looking for a new recipe.”

“What do you want to make?”

“I was thinking it would be fun to bake a pie.”

“I’m sure Nuala and Cerridwen will be happy to help.” Feyre offered.

“Oh, yes,” Elain nodded. “They said they’ll help me learn anything I choose.”

“I can’t wait to taste it.”

Elain glanced at the clock on the wall, and then took in her sister’s clothes; Comfortable clothes more suited for lounging at home, not a night out in the city.

Feyre noticed her stare and her face became apologetic, “I’m sorry, Elain. Nyx has been fussy today so I’d like to stay in with him tonight.”

“Oh, no,” she stood up. “Is he falling ill?” She asked, looking at the babe more closely. Now that he was fully awake, his blue eyes were clear and he was playfully cooing to himself.

“No, I’m sure he’s fine.” Feyre said, adjusting him in her arms. “If you’d still like to go out, I’m sure Azriel wouldn’t mind going with you.”

Elain’s cheeks flushed at the mention of the Shadowsinger. “Would he really?” She asked.

“Yes,” Feyre nodded. “When I told him I was going to have to cancel on you tonight he offered to take you out instead.”

Elain’s breath caught.

“He’s waiting for you in the sitting room.”

“He’s here, already?” Elain gasped.

Feyre chuckled, and the sound of it earned her a giggle from Nyx as well. “Yes. Go have some fun.”

Elain looked down at her rouge colored dress. It was a simple, cotton dress with an empire waistline and long sleeves. Suddenly, Elain felt too plain. “Should I change?” She asked, her voice hoarse. “No, you look beautiful.” Feyre said.

Elain followed her to the sitting room where Azriel stood near the large glass door that led to the balcony. How long had it been since she last saw him? Too long. He turned to look at them and Elain thought she might be gawking at him, much the way she did the first time she ever saw him. Azriel was the first man-male-she’d ever thought of as beautiful. She took in the elegant planes of his face, his golden skin, his dark hair, and his eyes. Those beautiful, hazel eyes that looked back at her, but concealed any emotion or thought. Even the shadows that curled around the tips of his wings were beautiful.

He nodded. “Elain.”

“Thank you for offering to take me out tonight.” Elain smiled, stepping up to Feyre’s side. “I hope you didn’t have to cancel any other plans.”

Azriel’s attention flickered to Feyre and Nyx, then back to Elain. “Not at all. I am yours for the evening.”

Elain couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

“Shall we?” Azriel asked, gesturing towards the glass door.

“Oh,” Elain started. He would be flying her then. She tried to hide her excitement. “Yes, let’s go.” She walked past Azriel and through the door he was holding open and onto the balcony. The night air was brisk and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep from shivering.

Azriel noticed. “One moment,” he said, and disappeared back into the River House.

Elain stood near the balcony railing and wondered where Azriel would take her. Had he really wanted to accompany her tonight? Before she could think too much on it, he reappeared, a cream colored cardigan in hand. “It’s chilly tonight. Feyre said you can wear this.”

“Thank you,” Elain said, reaching out to take her sister’s cardigan.

Azriel held it up by the shoulders, and Elain knew what he meant for her to do. She turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves, allowing him to adjust the neckline of the cardigan against her. Elain hoped he couldn’t hear her heart beating as she felt his hands linger by her shoulders for a moment.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yes.” Elain breathed.

Azriel effortlessly scooped her up, holding her tight against his chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and wondered if the color on his cheeks wasn’t entirely from the cold as he spread his wings and took flight.

—--

She was going to be his undoing. He should have waited by the front door so they could walk, but he’d gone to the upper floor near the balcony door. He wasn’t sure if he’d done so out of habit, or for an excuse to hold her close like this.

One thing he was sure of was that Feyre had set him up. She had tasked him with a stupid errand just to get him to the house and then came up with an excuse to stay in and ask him to go in her place. Nyx hadn’t been fussy at all. In fact, he was awake and playful when Feyre appeared with Elain in the sitting room. It was almost as if the babe himself was in on his mother’s scheming. The other thing Az was sure of, was that Elain was driving him absolutely insane. Her soft body held firmly against his, the smell of jasmine and honey filling his lungs, it was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

“Where are we going?” Elain asked, her first words to him since they’d taken to the night sky. She kept her eyes on the city below them.

“Wherever you would like to go.” He responded. This was probably something they should have discussed before leaving the balcony, before he’d impulsively swept her away into the night.

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“I could eat.”

She was silent for a moment before turning her head to look him in the eyes. “Take me to your favorite bakery.”

All Azriel could manage was a nod of his head. It was an effort not to stare into her big, brown eyes for too long.

He landed them in the Palace of Bone and Salt, the market square best known for its food and prepared confections, and carefully set Elain on the ground.

She smoothed out her dress, tucking a strand of wind-blown hair behind an ear, and looked around.

They stood in front of a small bakery, built from warm sandstone, nestled on the corner of a block. Iron tables and chairs were placed outside, surrounded by large planters filled with various plants and flowers. A wooden sign hung from the side of the building that read Lumio Bakery.

“This is Lumio Bakery.” Azriel explained. “I come here often.”

Elain’s eyes were wide, her cheeks slightly flushed as she said, “I saw this place a while back. I’ve wanted to come here ever since.”

Azriel’s heart skipped, and he willed himself to keep his emotions hidden. Even when Elain looked up at him expectantly, even when he extended his arm and she locked hers in it, even as they entered the bakery and his shadows whispered to him about more than one set of eyes on them. Eyes that he knew fell upon Elain’s beauty.

He breathed in the slightly sweet, yeasty aroma, and Azriel felt like someone had wrapped a warm blanket around them.

“Azriel!” A familiar voice called from behind the counter.

“Hello, Sylvie,” He greeted, tucking his wings in tight and leading Elain up to the glass case. Sylvie had worked at Lumio Bakery for as long as Azriel had been coming here-and that was a long time. She was always cheerful and had his favorite order memorized.

“Who might this be?” Sylvie asked, her eyes bright as she took in Elain and their arms still looped around each other’s. “It’s not often that you bring company.”

That was an understatement. Az never brought anyone to Lumio. It was his secret reprieve from the world. He liked the quiet of the bakery, and though he loved them, he knew Cass and Mor would ruin the atmosphere of the sleepy little shop. In fact, he’d once made the mistake of taking a box of treats to a solstice party. Cassian had eaten half of the box himself and to this day still hounded Az to tell him where he got them from.

“Sylvie, this is Elain,” he said, nodding his head. “Elain, Sylvie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Elain!” Sylvie extended a hand over the counter. “Is Azriel treating you to a night out?”

“Oh,” Elain unhooked her arm from Azriel’s and took Sylvie’s hand, shaking it once. “Yes, my sister asked him to be my escort tonight.”

“Ah.” Sylvie’s eyes shot to Azriel’s. She grinned and Azriel stiffened, his shadows coiling around his feet. “Well, what can I get you two tonight? Azriel, I’m assuming you’d like your usual?” “Yes, please,” he nodded, “and anything Elain would like.”

“I’ll take a strawberry donut, please.” Elain said, gesturing to the case of sweets.

“Sure thing.” Sylvie wrapped a donut in paper and set it on the counter. “Anything to drink, sweetie?”

“Some hot tea, please.”

“Comin’ up!” Sylvie quickly gathered Azriel’s usual order and placed the treats in a paper bag with Elain’s donut. Then she poured Elain’s tea and Azriel’s coffee into white paper cups and set them on the counter next to the bag. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

“Thank you.” Azriel handed Elain the cup of tea and took his coffee and the bag.

“You two have fun tonight!” Sylvie called.

Azriel only waved a hand at her, but Elain replied, “Thank you!”

—--

The chill night air bit at Elain’s fingertips, and she was grateful for the warmth of the hot tea seeping through the paper cup. They walked slowly along the Sidra, watching the light reflect off the water’s surface.

Azriel leaned against the railing and held out the paper bag. Elain shifted her tea to one hand and pulled out her strawberry donut. “Thank you.” She said.

“Lumio is one of my favorite shops in Velaris.” He offered.

“You must visit often, if Sylvie has your order memorized.” Elain nodded towards the paper bag, curious as to what was in it.

Azriel smiled, and Elain’s heart skipped. She took a tentative bite of her strawberry donut. “It’s delicious!” She said, mouth full, then blushing at her outburst.

Azriel almost choked on the coffee he was sipping at. Elain covered her mouth with a pale hand, but Azriel only tilted his head back and laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you get?” She asked.

Az perched his cup on the railing he was leaning against and shoved one of his scarred hands in the paper bag. “A lemon tart and pain au chocolat,” he explained, pulling out a pastry. Elain studied the flakey bread. “Is that a type of croissant?”

“It’s similar, but there’s a surprise inside.” He held the pain au chocolat out towards her. “Take half.”

“Oh, no Azriel,” Elain started.

“I insist.”

Elain held the other end of the pastry and pulled it in half. She studied her end and found a filling inside the bread. “Is it chocolate?”

Azriel nodded, the corners of his mouth curving up.

She took a bite of the pain au chocolat. The bread was light and fluffy and the chocolate filling was sweet. “Mmm,” she groaned softly. Azriel stiffened slightly at the sound of it. “I can see why you come here so much. Is this your favorite baked good?”

His eyes were trained on her mouth as she took another bite. He cleared his throat and said, “yes, actually. These are my favorite treats.”

Elain nodded, finishing her half of the pain au chocolat. She watched Az stuff his entire piece into his mouth and eat it in one bite. Was he blushing, or was the color on his cheeks from the cold? At least she’d learned what sweets he liked. She would ask Nuala and Cerridwen to teach her how to make them. Maybe she could surprise him.

Azriel took a sip of his coffee and then started on his lemon tart. “Where would you like to go next?”

Elain looked down the street towards the various shops. The pathways glowed softly under hanging string lights. “Wherever,” she said, turning back towards Azriel. “Oh. . .” At the corner of his mouth, a crumb of lemon filling had gotten stuck. Without really thinking about it, she reached up and carefully swiped a finger over it. Then she brought that finger to her lips and licked it clean. Azriel went completely rigid, his eyes wide. The color on his cheeks darkened and Elain felt her own face flush. “You had some. . . Lemon. . .”

“Thanks.” Azriel mumbled.

Elain averted her eyes and drank from her tea.

When he finished his lemon tart, Azriel offered, “There’s a flower shop down the street. We can stop by.”

“Yes, I’d like that!” She replied, linking arms with him.

They walked in content silence for a while. Azriel nodded to a fae male they passed but no one else paid them any mind aside from a polite smile or two from strangers. Elain savored his warmth at her side and was grateful that he’d borrowed a cardigan from Feyre for her.

Arms still wound together, they rounded the corner and Elain spied the flower shop. It was built with red stone bricks and had two large windows covering the storefront. White and sage colored umbrellas stood on the patio covering large buckets of fresh cut flowers.

Elain felt a smile spread across her face. “Look at all the flowers!” Azriel released her arm so she could move freely and she bent at the waist to smell some roses. “They smell heavenly.” “Good evening!” A male voice called from inside the shop. He walked over to the open door and asked, “Do you need help with anything?”

“No, we’re just looking.” Elain replied.

“Ah, I’m here if you need anything.” He wiped his hands on his sage apron. “We have more flowers and some vases inside. Feel free to come in.”

“Thank you.” Elain nodded.

The shopkeeper disappeared back into the store. Elain continued walking around the buckets.

“Do you know what all these flowers are?” Azriel asked. He was walking behind her, wings tucked in tight so they wouldn’t bump any of the displays.

“Yes, most of them at least. I have some of these growing in my garden at home.”

“I recognize these.” He pointed to a bucket filled with bouquets of small yellow flowers.

“Those are daffodils,” she explained, stepping closer to him. “They grow best in the winter.”

They continued wandering through the arrangements, making small talk about Elain’s garden and her plans for the spring and summer. When they’d seen everything the shop offered they started down the street again. Before they got very far Azriel stopped.

“I’ll be right back.” He turned and jogged back to the flower shop.

Elain waited patiently for him to return, cupping her hands in front of her mouth and blowing into them in an attempt to warm her cold fingers. Shadows crept around her feet and along the street, as if Azriel had left them to keep watch over her. She was watching them, still breathing against her hands, when he returned.

“Sorry, I thought I dropped something.”

“It’s not a problem. Did you find it?”

He nodded, his gaze falling on her hands. “Are you cold?”

“A little, but I’m okay.” She admitted.

Azriel took a step towards her and placed his hands around hers. He bowed his head and blew his warm breath onto them. Elain felt all the air leave her lungs.

—--

Azriel stared at Elain’s perfect fingers in his scared ones and cringed. He shouldn’t be touching her like this, tainting her beautiful skin. Gods, he shouldn’t even be out with her.

It was wrong.

Rhys would be pissed.

But Az could have sworn Elain’s eyes glazed over. She didn’t look opposed, wasn’t pulling away. In fact, she looked. . . Happy.

Fuck it. Feyre said she would deal with Rhys. He could have this. Tonight. These small moments. The stolen glances, occasional touches. He would take anything she would give him. Cauldron knew he’d give her anything she wanted.

He blew on her hands again and asked, “better?”

“Yes,” she responded, a little breathlessly.

Azriel was faintly aware of music playing nearby, but the roaring in his ears was drowning it out. He’d forgotten there were others around them. Looking into Elain’s rich brown eyes he could hardly remember what they were even doing out here.

A faint breeze rustled Elain’s hair and sent a chill down his spine. His wings flexed slightly and he noticed Elain’s attention shift to them.

“Do you think. . .” She bit her lip briefly and the only thought in his head was how badly he wanted to put his own teeth there. “Do you think you could take me flying?”

She wanted to fly? “Where?”

“Anywhere.”

He studied her for a moment, his large hands still cupped around her delicate fingers. “Of course. Do you like it? Flying, I mean?”

She smiled shyly. “I think I do. It’s a little scary, but also very exciting.”

“Then let’s fly.” Azriel scooped her into his arms and waited until she’d wrapped her own arms firmly around his neck. His grin turned feral as he said, “hold on tight.”

Elain squealed as they shot into the night sky, her arms tightening around him. He couldn’t help but chuckle against her neck, his wings flapping steadily now as he carried her off towards the mountains. “Did I scare you?”

She loosened her death grip enough to pull back a few inches and look into his eyes. “Yes, I was terrified!”

“I’m sorry.” She giggled and said, “Don’t be. That was fun.”

“You truly like flying?”

“I do.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Even though it’s scary?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “It is frightening, but I feel safe when I’m with you.”

Azriel struggled to calm his heart.

“Thank you for tonight.” Elain said suddenly. She turned her head and her arms shifted around him as she pressed her lips against his cheek. Then, just as every thought left Azriel’s head, her hand brushed against the edge of his wing.

A surge of pleasure shot through him and he sucked in his breath.

Elain, seemingly oblivious to his reaction, ran two fingers along his wing again. “I’ve never touched them before.”

Azriel held her a little tighter against him. “Illyrian wings are sensitive.” He explained, trying his best not to moan in her ear from the touch.

“I’m sorry!” Elain pulled her hand away and rested it on his shoulder instead. “Does it hurt?”

Azriel chuckled. “No. They’re sensitive in. . . Other ways.”

“Oh,” She said. “Oh!” Elain’s cheeks turned the most beautiful shade of pink he’d ever seen.

“Illyrians are so protective of their wings they’ll often attack anyone who touches them.” He felt Elain stiffen up a little. “But I,” Azriel struggled to compose himself, “I feel safe with you too. Elain’s doe eyes sparkled, the stars themselves shining in them. “So it feels. . .”

“It feels a little like this,” He leaned in, his nose grazing the creamy skin of her neck, and brushed a soft kiss under her ear.

An almost inaudible moan escaped Elain’s throat. The sound threatened to be his undoing. “That feels. . . Nice.”

At the whisper of a taste, his cock strained against his pants. Azriel had to get control over himself. Being alone with her like this was dangerous.

No, they could have this. Tonight was theirs.

“Azriel,” Elain breathed, “I’ve missed you.” He stared into her eyes again. “You don’t come to dinners any more, and I hardly see you around the house. Did I do something wrong?”

Azriel felt his heart split in two. He’d done that. He’d avoided her and hurt her, and it was his fault that she looked so sad right now.

“No,” he almost choked on the words, “You haven’t. Don’t ever think. . .” He took a deep breath. “It’s my fault. I. . . I was afraid.”

She cupped a hand over his jaw. “Of what?”

“Because I. . .” Azriel looked down at the forest they flew over for a moment before looking back at her gorgeous face. “Because it’s hard to be around you. Every second that I’m in your presence, I feel like I’m fighting for my life. I’m trying to keep my composure when all I really want to do is taste you, protect you, tell you how strongly I feel for you.”

“Then do it," Elain said. "Tell me anything you want. Keep me safe. . ." She leaned in closer to him, and her lips brushed against his ear as she breathed, "taste me."

Azriel shuddered and buried his face in the space between her shoulder and neck, breathing in her sweet scent. He looked back up long enough to land on a ledge of the mountainside. He set her down carefully, but neither one of them tried to step out of the other's embrace. Elain kept her arms wrapped around Azriel's neck as he slid his around her back.

"Can I just. . . Hold you?" He asked, his voice low and broken.

"As long as you like."

"I'd like to all night."

"I'd like that too."

"But I-" Azriel forced the words out. "I don't deserve it-You. I'm not. . . Good."

Elain pushed away from him enough to look into his eyes. "You're wrong."

"Elain."

"You are good, Azriel."

"I'm not. I've done. . . Terrible things." His hands shook against her.

"I know." She breathed. "But not without reason. You are a good male. You have saved me in more ways than you realize. You listened to me when no one else would."

"Elain-"

His words were cut off when Elain pushed up on her toes and brushed a feather soft kiss against his lips. Azriel's entire body stiffened, heat roaring through him. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, dumbstruck and speechless.

"Everything in my life has been chosen for me. For once. . . I'd like to choose for myself." She smiled shyly. "And I choose you."

They were the nicest words he'd ever heard. And he wanted more than anything to give into his desires. But they had to do this right. He'd had suspicions that the Cauldron had been wrong in mating Elain with Lucien. Deep, deep down, he felt that he was her true mate, and he would find a way to prove it. Until then, they would have to be careful. If they were caught together. . . Azriel didn't want to think of what might happen.

"I think. . . Elain, I think the Cauldron was wrong. I think you're my. . ." His hands slid down to her waist and as he rested his forehead against hers, he whispered, "I think you're supposed to be my mate."

"Can that happen?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Truthfully, I don't know. But I feel so connected to you. It has to be."

"I would like it very much," she let her eyes flutter and close, "if you were my mate. But I would still choose you, even if you weren't."

Something in Azriel's chest squeezed. Elain bit her lower lip, eyes still closed. Azriel moved one hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. She hummed softly in response. His hand moved to her neck, his thumb on her chin, so he could angle her head up. She remained motionless, waiting, he realized, for his kiss.

How long had he dreamt of this moment? How many nights had he fisted his cock to the thought of her sweet face? And now he hesitated?

“Azriel,” Elain whispered, “Please. . .”

He’d give her anything she wanted. Himself, a field of flowers, Cauldron, all the stars in the sky wouldn’t be enough.

He bowed his head and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was gentle, and unrushed, as he slowly brushed his lips over hers, again and again. She tasted better than he’d ever dreamed, and he was going to savor every last second of this. The scent of her arousal that drifted up to him threatened to bring him to his knees, but he wanted to take this slow.

Azriel's hand tightened on her waist and Elain's lips parted for him. His tongue swept in, mingling with hers, and she moaned against his mouth. Az buried his other hand in her thick hair, pulling her against his body as tightly as possible.

He groaned as Elain placed a small hand against his jaw and leaned into him further. His cock ached for her so badly he was going to jump out of his skin. He was going to learn just what sounds she would make when he thrust it into her. He was going to put his mouth all over her gorgeous body and taste every inch of her. He was going to-

"Azriel. . ." Elain moaned breathlessly between passionate kisses.

He pulled back to survey her face. He had no words for her beauty. Her lips, now full; her eyes, glazed over. Gods.

Something fluttered into his line of vision. Snow. They were high enough on the mountain that it would still get flurries at night. A frigid wind tore through them and Azriel knew he needed to get Elain home or they would both freeze up here.

It took every ounce of restraint in his body, but Azriel kissed her temple, gathered her into his arms, and said, "let's get you home."

—--

Elain savored Azriel's warmth in the freezing night sky. As they approached the river house, it became apparent everyone was asleep. All the lights were off, except a dim spark on the balcony.

They landed, and Azriel set her down. She peered up at his face, her hands cupping his cheeks. His own hands ran up her sides, stopping over her ribs.

"When will I see you again?" She asked. She couldn't bear the thought of his absence again.

He considered her for a moment before his mouth curved up into a faint smile. "Tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'll be more. . . Involved, now that you know how I feel."

Elain beamed. "That makes me so happy."

Azriel nodded, his hands shifting around her so he could pivot her towards the door.

Elain gasped.

Sitting on an iron table was the largest bouquet of roses she'd ever seen. Azriel slid his hands around her waist and held her from behind. "For you," he whispered, leaning his head down to kiss her ear.

"When did you. . ." Suddenly she remembered Azriel running back to the flower shop claiming he lost something. "This is why you went back to the shop?"

"Yes." He admitted. “I had them delivered.”

She spun around in his arms, stood on her toes, and kissed him. Azriel couldn't help but smile against her lips.

"Thank you." She said, hugging him tightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said, voice low.

Elain nodded. Azriel kissed her temple and then stepped back, wings spreading wide. "Sweet dreams," he said, and then he shot into the starry night sky.

Elain watched him fly away until he was a speck in the night before taking her flowers inside and going to bed.

[kungukingi]

Meditations on bris/isbr [4/?] "Devouring or just Samesies"

Link to previous part.

After Team Z loses miserably to Team X, Isagi sits quietly in the locker room while his teammates argue around him, thinking about what Barou said to him. But as previously stated, he doesn't lose hope and give up, but instead tries to think of ways he could change and become someone who could survive Blue Lock.

So what he does first (of course) is launch into an analysis about the reasons why Barou dragged their collective noses through the dirt, repeating out loud much of the analysis he’d already thought of during the game itself — concluding that based on Barou’s example, what Team Z needs is “overhwelming individuality and talent”.

They talk a bit with Ego, get to thinking about everyone’s individual weapons, and Isagi realises he doesn’t really know what his weapon is. He’s still thinking about it, and Barou’s words (again), when he dines alone later. Then Kunigami arrives, and talking with him raises Isagi's spirits and gives him an idea about what his weapon is (“smelling the goal”).

Then onto the next match against Team Y: In the match Isagi meets Niko, learns about his playstyle and weapons (“eyes that precisely survey the field” and “brain that lets him use others”) that he instantly resonates with. And then… he gets a bit intense when he realises that Niko is about pass to Oikawa in front of the goal, proceeding to heavily project onto him.

And in the midst of projecting his “old self” onto Niko, he assumes Barou’s role, down to the line he speaks next.

He thinks back to the Prefectural Tournament Finals, about how he cried with regret after his pass cost him a victory, and resolves to be reborn as someone who wins with his own goals — leaving the delivery of the ball to the goal to other people’s hands (or feet) to position himself for that finishing touch instead. And he does score, spectacularly.

What happens afterwards is interesting, when it’s contextualised with how Isagi mirrored Barou’s line before. While he’s still full of adrenaline from his last play, he ignores his teammates to walk up to Niko, reflecting on the fact that he is the one who brought his team victory, that he is the one who crushed Team Y. And he’s struck by how damn good it feels, to win with his own power.

This above scene could mean two things, either:

...It’s just one more footnote proving how Isagi’s ego is similar to Barou’s

...Isagi is still in an unconscious ‘devouring’ mode with regards to Barou, instinctively assimilating attributes from him in this bout of ‘method acting’ that he (and the reader at this point) isn’t even aware of.

I tend towards the former explanation, but the latter is also intriguing. In any case, Isagi definitely used Barou’s words as both a lesson and fuel for himself in this match. it was the first time Isagi felt anything like that, and he’s a bit shaken about it later, as it goes so directly against the very grain of the kind of football ethos he’s been entrenched in before coming to Blue Lock.

But he ends up ultimately accepting his reaction as something he shouldn’t feel bad about, rather defensively thinking “who wouldn’t feel good about scoring a goal like that” — as if the (admittedly very cool) goal itself was the source of his joy, and not the fact that he crushed his opponents...

...which is what he explicitly thought about previously on the pitch.

He’s getting to be more in touch with his selfish striker ego at this point, but there’s still some work for him to do before he will fully connect with it.