#and yet... despite that... the image of bonds too...

[mail-forwarding]

I am so unwell about Nightglows MC (and also just MC in general). Gets told that Duo's grand plan hinges on them sacrificing themself, and accepts it without any complaints. "I understand what's needed of me. I trust your decision, Commander." Only objection is that they don't want to put this burden on Duo's shoulders. "You're still just a kid." Is asked to keep that entire convo a secret, and then obediently doesn't mention a word to anyone else, not even Lil Sal. Throughout the remaining days left till the final battle, talks about dreams and plans for after the war, laughing and enjoying the presence of others, despite knowing what Duo's planned.

Sees enemy Cthugha, still lost in the Nightgaunts, and senses his suffering from so far away. Realises immediately that he's not just a shadowbugger, he's a person. All that before they've even met Cthugha. And when told to disregard that by Breke, immediately puts themself on the same level as shadowbuggers. "Wouldn't you consider me an unknown too? Don't I also possess a dangerous power?"

Gets dream-napped by Nodens/Nuada/Nightgaunts and empathises with him. "You're trapped in this weird place?" "Are you suffering?" Disobeys Bertro's command to retreat just to have a chance to talk to Nodens and better understand him.

Promises Duo to keep his plan's sacrifice secret. Promises to help Lil Sal find out about his past and his creator. Promises to find Breke again. Has kept each of these promises, through different lives if necessary. They're so bad at lying and so bad at coming up with excuses, but they always keep their promises.

"Still, you laugh together and enjoy each other's company. It's the best you can do with the time you have left."

"Win or lose, times like these are fleeting, and should be enjoyed for all they're worth. Because either way, this will end."

Their last words before the final mission starts: "I'm so glad I met you (Cthugha)." Their last words before the loop resets: "Thank you. I love you all."

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: (lil backstory) you and Rafe have been a couple since day one and are pretty closed off but a new bombshell has come and chose Rafe for a date and now it’s time for her to choose who she wants to couple up with.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,070

A/n: Inspired by the whole ordeal between rob liv and leah in love island usa lol SECOND PART IS HERE

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The villa was buzzing with the usual pre-recoupling jitters, and as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup, you heard Rafe’s voice echo down the hallway. “Babe,” he called out, his tone relaxed yet filled with that casual affection you’d grown to love. “Yeah, I’m in here!” you responded, smiling to yourself.

Through the mirror, you caught the familiar image of him entering, his sandy-blonde hair tousled, sun-kissed skin accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the edges of his mouth softened into a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer and bending down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make you feel like he was truly checking in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a playful glint. He watched your reflection intently, as if trying to read your every expression.

“Just making sure,” he murmured, pulling a chair up beside yours. He settled in, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he watched you apply the last bit of powder. You raised an eyebrow, feigning a casual tone. “Why? Should I be worried? Is there something you’re not telling me about your date with Kayla?” You smirked, trying to keep it light, but deep down, you were fishing for any reassurance you could get.

His hand found its way to your thigh, his grip warm and reassuring as his thumb brushed soothing circles. “No, of course not,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I told you everything, and, honestly, I don’t think she’ll pick me. We don’t have that spark—you and I do, though, yeah?” His eyes held yours, his expression open and genuine.

His gaze was steady, his smile reassuring, and despite the flicker of insecurity, you let out a slow breath, his words sinking in and soothing the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. “Okay,” you said finally, a genuine smile breaking through as he chuckled.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses along your bare shoulder making you giggle, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that he seemed to crave as he pulled back, grinning. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asked, scanning the room with an approving gaze as his eyes landed on the green dress you’d laid out on the armchair nearby.

“That one.” You nodded toward the dress, and he hummed, his smile widening in approval. “Good choice. It’s gonna drive the others crazy.” “Glad you think so,” you replied, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you noticed the way he looked at you—like you were the only person who existed.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready,” he said, standing up and moving behind you. Through the mirror, you caught yourself staring. How could you not when Rafe looked so... edible. He met your gaze in the mirror, catching your look, and smirked. “Like what you see, Mrs. Cameron?” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, almost dangerous tone that made you laugh.

“Very much,” you replied, tilting your head back as he leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss that was both soft and full of promise, a reminder of the bond that the two of you had since day one. But before things could get too heated, you gently placed a hand on his jaw, pushing him back with a giggle.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he said, chuckling as he stepped back. Before he could leave, the door opened, and you both turned to see Kayla enter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Rafe. “Hey,” Rafe greeted her casually, his tone polite but distant. You watched them exchange brief smiles before looking away, busying yourself with your lip gloss as Kayla approached her drawers.

“Hey, Y/n,” she greeted you brightly, her tone friendly as she settled beside you. “Hey,” you replied with a polite smile. “Excited for tonight?” “Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m so ready to sleep next to someone again; it’s been way too long.” She giggled, and you chuckled in response, keeping the mood light even as you fought off a pang of unease.

“Do you know who you’re choosing?” you asked, carefully applying your lip gloss as she fiddled with something in her drawer. She nodded confidently, her fingers tapping lightly as she glanced at you with a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. I knew who I was gonna pick the second I walked in here.”

You nodded, hoping your expression didn’t betray the subtle tightening in your chest. It was in these little moments that the villa’s intensity hit, the constant swirl of emotions and unspoken fears. But as you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, you reminded yourself of the quiet confidence in Rafe’s words, of the unspoken bond you’d built.

~

The night air felt thick with tension as everyone gathered around the firepit, the familiar crackling flames casting flickering shadows across the group. You sat beside Rafe, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. The warmth of his touch had been a quiet comfort, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along your skin—a small reassurance that whatever happened tonight, he was there.

But as Kayla’s voice broke through the murmur of anticipation, her words twisted the air around you, each one slicing deeper than the last. "I'm coupling up with this person because, from the moment we started talking, I definitely sensed that we had potential and that there was a spark there that I want to explore," Kayla said, her tone confident and unwavering as her gaze locked on the group.

Your eyes dropped to the flames, heart pounding, silently willing her words to be about someone else. When she finally spoke his name, “The person I want to couple up with is… Rafe,” the world seemed to freeze. Your breath hitched, and a wave of shock washed over you, cold and biting, despite the warmth of the firepit. Around you, a few gasps broke the silence, the girls’ faces mirroring the same surprise that you felt.

Your eyes darted to Kayla, disbelief clouding your expression, and then turned to Rafe, who sat motionless beside you, his face an unreadable mask as he stared blankly at the ground. “Really? Nothing to worry about?” you said, your voice low but sharp, brushing his arm off your shoulder. Anger surged through you, raw and uncontainable. You’d trusted him, taken his reassurances at face value.

And now, every promise felt like it had shattered between you. Rafe’s shoulders slumped slightly as he raked a hand through his hair, a long sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Rafe, you look surprised at Kayla's decision,” the host, Sophie commented , looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, his gaze finally flickering up to meet Kayla’s. “Yeah, uh—I don’t know what to say, really,” he mumbled, the frown deepening across his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t really interested,” he shrugged, but his words felt hollow to you, hanging in the tense air between him and Kayla. Kayla’s eyes flashed with indignation, and she crossed her arms, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Wow, yeah—that’s not how I felt during our date,” she said with a pointed look, and you felt a pang of betrayal twist in your stomach as her words settled over you.

The whole night, the small reassurances Rafe had given you, the gestures, the closeness—it all felt tainted. Sophie's voice cuts through, pulling you from the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Well, Kayla, if you could switch places with Y/n… and Y/n, if you could come stand beside me.” Standing, you avoided looking at Rafe or Kayla, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You forced yourself to breathe as you stepped away from the firepit, feeling the collective gaze of the group on you. “Y/n, you are now single, which leaves you vulnerable here on Love Island,” Sophie announced. You nodded slowly, your jaw tight as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately holding back the flood of emotions welling inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe looking anywhere but at you, his gaze flickering across the ground as if trying to distance himself from the situation. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on you, every unspoken word thickening the air between you. As soon as Sophie left, the girls immediately swarmed around you, their arms linking through yours as they ushered you away from the firepit and into the makeup room.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to Sofia, who gave you a sympathetic squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve so much better than that,” she whispered, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft but strained as he appeared behind you, his presence looming uncertainly. “Can we please talk?” His tone was laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing in him. His gaze drifted to your face, catching the redness around your eyes, the remnants of tears. You sighed, dabbing away the traces of mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, Rafe.” You shrugged, brushing him off as you tried to compose yourself. “Y/n, please,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice tugging at the edges of your anger. “I swear to god, I was making it crystal clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her, over and over, that I was in a happy situation with you.”

You felt the flicker of an ache under your ribs, a small crack in the wall you’d put up. “Then why, Rafe?” Your voice rose, bitterness spilling over. “Why did she pick you? She wouldn’t have done that out of the blue if she didn’t think there was something real, something genuine, between you two.” Your words struck him, and he took a small step back, almost flinching.

He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, as if suddenly unsure. “I don’t know why she chose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you have to believe me, Y/n. None of this meant anything to me—she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at you, and for a split second, you caught something raw, almost pleading, in his expression.

But the anger and the hurt still clouded your heart. You shook your head, exhaustion coating your words. “I’m just… I’m really tired, Rafe. I just want to go to bed.” You didn’t meet his eyes, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. He paused, the silence stretching painfully between you both. “Right. Good night, then,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a sadness that lingered in the air as he turned and left.

By the time you walked into the bedroom, Sofia was already there, her arms opening for you without a word. You melted into her embrace, the comfort of her support soothing your frazzled nerves. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered, squeezing you tightly before you finally pulled away, giving her a small, grateful smile.

As you made your way to your bed, your gaze involuntarily flickered to Kayla’s. She lay there, already settled in, Rafe’s pillow on the other side, and it made your stomach churn. You slipped into bed, laying in the center, feeling an aching emptiness beside you. Rafe should have been there. His warmth, his steady breathing as you fell asleep, had been a constant.

Then, as if on cue Rafe walked into the room. His eyes skimmed over you for a second before he headed toward Kayla’s bed. The air was thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and for a moment, you wanted to reach out, to say something, but you held back, the bitterness fresh in your chest. Rafe leaned over, whispering something to Kayla, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his pillow, stepping away from her bed and heading out of the room. You caught Sofia’s gaze across the dimly lit space, her knowing look meeting your own. She offered a small smile of understanding, and you returned it faintly before letting your eyes drift shut, hoping sleep would bring a break from all the emotions.

next

[acid-ixx]

Lmao a&a reader sticking pics of all her milestones and events her family missed and unreplied texts all over the house (a father daughter day at school pic sticked twice on Bruce's door) out of anger and pettiness (srry abt the bad English I just had this idea suddenly)

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

oh my god anon, you are so brilliant because this will happen eventually. like as much as i want a hurt, constantly aching pain to happen to the reader, i also portrayed them to be still bitterly petty towards their family. that translates to shoving it in all their faces about just how much they - specifically bruce - lost so much years of bonding with them just because they chose to be ignorant enough.

just picture this: an entire manor, with hallways filled with printouts of all of dick's unreplied texts, picture frames upon picture frames stacked on every corner where it's just you and alfred against the world, leaning on to the old butler in every image, reminiscent of a father figure more than bruce could ever be.

there're also pages of ripped diary entries stuffed under the couches' mattresses. pages which documented all the years and moments where you write and rant about your bitterness towards the family— how 'dick never looks at me, jay won't even spare me a glance whenever i talk to him, i think tim genuinely doesn't think i exist, and maybe damian just wants me dead'.

and all those entries, despite causing you more burden of having to confront bruce in his office about your mental health, about how it's unhealthy to dwell in the past; it genuinely gives you a sense of control within your trapped cage— if you could even call it that.

yet the more you shove it in their face, the more they smother you with attention: trying to overcorrect.

then suddenly your petty plans turned into a ploy, an excuse for them to bond with you even more because of course! of course those bitter reminders are just you wanting their attention individually! of course, it's your stubborn call to them that they do have a chance of reconnecting with you!

just let them spare themselves the heartbreak and instead replace the hurt upon seeing you so adamant of denying them the love; turning it into a way to become closer to you— a genuine apology in their part if you will, despite your refusal to call it that.

whenever you mention how dick never looks at you eye-to-eye, suddenly, his eyes are all over you, like he's burning the memory of your entire form under his eyelids. every time you mention his dismissal towards your request of hanging out, suddenly, it's him inviting you to every small thing. hell, his attention became too much to the point he suggests that you just sleep in his bedroom because, "it's only right that we spend all the lost moments together, right baby bird? now, don't we have another movie we have to catch on? and don't worry, it's only gonna be just the two of us."

he says, with a saccharine sweetness to his voice, masking the overly possessive undertone in the last sentence, as if there never was those past years filled with yearning, as if it was never you who chased after him. the more your diary entries are read, the more dick takes note in every missed invitation he never entertained. it doesn't even matter if you've already watched the movie, you'll rewatch it, with him, and only with him. because in his eyes, your requests to spend time with him specifically means that all your future moments are exclusively spent with your eldest brother.

with just how much he takes your time every day, you almost feel like it's his attempts of filling that void thirteen years without him.

then there's jason, who once knew what your boundaries were. and although he respects it now, he couldn't deny just how heavenly it is to have his angel in his arms. and could you deny all those diary entries rambling about what it's like to be in your big brother's arms? those documentations of your feelings at its purest form just means to jason that you still want, no, yearn to be embraced by him. the second eldest never really initiates contact first unlike dick, but whenever he does, it's always with you. the first time he hugged you, in his lonesome apartment, he couldn't really bring himself to let go despite your complaints— so what could stop him now that they have you in their grasp?

"hey angel, don't you think it'd be nice if i read you 'little women' tonight?" jason asks you, because of that one day where you filled his vacant room with copies of all the books he recommended and promised to read with you - but never fulfilled doing so - it kind of backfired on you. and now you're wrapped around his muscled arms, beside him in his supposedly cozy, yet suffocating bed, his hair pricking the skin of your sweaty forehead, damp from the sheer heat - despite the air-conditioning - because he straight up refuses to give you space. if you just lean back a little more, then you could almost feel the tremor of his voice narrating the entire story, the warmth of his breath hitting against the nape of your neck.

for a book so lighthearted, all you could feel was the heaviness of your heart.

unlike dick and jason, you never once spent a moment with tim. that in itself is what made him motivated to learn all about you on a more personal level. in his eyes, (or rather, through his delusional reasonings), he reckoned that because he never once had any memories with you— your hatred towards him would be the least harrowing thing to deal with. he's always been a mystery to you, you've been a mystery to him, too. through your empty texts with him, entries spanning from not even knowing anything about him at all; he figured that now's the chance to take you away in the least expected moments, cauterize his words with promises for escape from other more smothering members of the family. unlike the others, since he's never once had personal moments with you, he knows your objective prefences, your boundaries and what makes you tick.

"ah, (name)... mind moving your hand to the left? yeah, that's way better." yet despite the fact that you have more freedom when you spend time with him, doesn't mean that he'll spare you the space of being alone when he's just like all the others still: obsessively taking note of every little movement, swooning in secret with a small quirk in your lips, kissing his teeth when he's exceptionally pleased the more your emotions are vividly displayed in front of him. except now that you willingly chose to be his model - you're unaware that he plasters the polaroid's all over his own version of a diary mirroring yours... - for just a moment of respite from the other's overbearing physical affection, it doesn't mean that tim isn't an obstacle himself; he just... knows you more than you know him, more than you know anybody else actually.

in fact, the longer his cryptic stare is pinned only on you, the more you notice how he never really takes his eyes off of you for more than a second.

"who says it's your turn to be with my sibling, todd?" your youngest brother, the one who you unwillingly spent the most time with. your tormentor, the one who you almost despised. damian hates it when you smother him with hints that you're closer to anybody else but him. he hates it when his older sibling generally spends more time with others. and although he's countlessly apologized to you, you never quite find it in your heart to fully grasp his sorry's. even if he offers you friendship bracelets, emerald green stones matching the shade of your favorite ones, whilst looking away with a puff in his cheeks— you just can't see him in a different light anymore; constantly reminding him of the threats he threw your way back them, shoving papers upon papers stained with salty tears and smudged ink; all piled with texts ranting about your endless pain because of him.

but just like dick, your youngest brother just sees it as your stubborn way of calling out his name. he may look like he bites, and yes he does bite, but not at you, never at you. at least, not anymore— but to everybody else who threatens his so-called precious bonding time with his older sibling. weirdly enough, despite his smaller frame, he's the most suffocating, the one whose hold on your body tightens just a bit more every time you move away from him. he's arguably the most possessive, the one who'll fight tooth and nail just because he wants you, his older sibling, to be his beloved muse for a portrait he imagined.

as much as he tormented you in the past, you can never deny how his life centered on you as much as it did now.

lastly, bruce, your father, a figure that was never there, just a silhouette to you. and even until now he still is. you can't comprehend his care, a type of fatherly love you never felt all those years ago. after all this time, you're more petty now than you were in the past; sticking picture frames of you and alfred spending memories where it's supposed to be you two, in hallways you know he frequents. it hurts him, it truly does pain him every time you look at him distantly. but he knows patience is the key, even though guilt devours him at every passing glance— he still loves you so. he should've shown his care early on, but what can he do now that it's too late?

"(name)," he calls your name all too fondly, accurately even — like he's practiced calling your name every night, afraid you'll be gone in his arms — and for a moment, you can almost hear him mouthing the endearing term 'dear' under his breath. as the world's greatest detective, the first thing he does is wanting to entertain the sick idea of reenacting the memories plastered all over those picture frames. just to make the regret lighter, to find a reason to be closer to you than he already makes himself out to be. don't mistake him, he's grateful that alfred was always there to aid you, but he's your father, first and foremost, and just because he missed those birthdays, that graduation, your prom and so much more— it doesn't mean there's no more room for him to still spend time with his beloved child, no? he'll find a valid, yet almost desperate excuse every time; to make a grander celebration. your missed birthdays will be replaced with countless vacations, your graduation picture smiling together with alfred nailed right at the front of his door will soon be a frame with you and the rest of the family. he'll find a way for you to never write those wretched entries about them anymore— he swears, with all his heart, you'll love him as much as he loves you.

and maybe, just maybe, you should've never presented your bare heart in front of them so willingly after all.

a/n: leave comments because why not lmao. idk half of what i wrote here but i'm back to answering asks and anon, i hope you like this because i used your ask to make a drabble ��� this is the batfam after they become yanderes and how they enact upon their obsessions so ykyk. again, i forgot whatever i've written here.

[bucketbueckers]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: language, slight cheating (deserved? 🌚), messy, toxicity, gaslighting, angst (w a happy ending bc angst without a happy ending makes me want to jump)

wc: 9.2k

synopsis: The unspoken truth between you and Azzi was that the two of you weren’t just friends. There was always something more, something that lingered just beneath the surface, something that was so glaringly obvious to your mutual friends yet something neither of you wanted to fully acknowledge. You thought that it was safer this way – keeping your relationship with Azzi strictly platonic, saving the both of you from an eventual heartbreak. Unfortunately, it seems that a toxic girlfriend you weren’t quite committed to was actually all it took for the two of you to give up on trying to stay away from each other.

notes: this was supposed to be a lighter read but 💛 anon said i should make a really angsty fic and well. who am i to deny the people. this was not originally going to have as much plot as it did but my fics never stay on track 🌚 also this is a little all over the place so im sorry!!! as always i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

For as long as you’ve known her, Azzi Fudd wasn’t just your friend. There was always something more between you. Gazes that lingered a little too long, a hand on a waist that burned in the most pleasant way possible, softer smiles that seemed to be reserved only for each other.

You met her during your freshman year – she was a freshman, too, a little wide-eyed and definitely out of her element at the crowded frat party. You were only there for “team bonding” and you quickly realized that “team bonding” meant your teammates were going to get plastered and you’d have to be the babysitter. You’d spotted Azzi from the corner of your eye while you were rummaging through the refrigerator for a water bottle, and, in a rare moment of smoothness where you didn’t stumble over your words because Azzi was drop dead fucking gorgeous, like stunningly beautiful, you’d asked if she wanted a water, too. She told you yes. For good measure, you stole a bowl of hummus and some pita chips from the pantry, asked if she wanted to get some air, and that was that. She told you her name under the glow of the porchlight and you told her yours through a coughing fit (which she’d been endlessly amused by) because the hummus was spicy for whatever reason – either way, you and Azzi had an instant connection, one that went a little deeper than hummus and chips at midnight and an easy conversation you’d never expected to have with a stranger, and frankly, you were a little too scared to give up what you had with her to ever think about acting on your growing feelings.

So, you never did. You never let anything slip – never gave any sort of indication that occasionally, you jolt awake late at night, your skin burning with what feels like the phantom press of Azzi’s lips against your skin. You don’t tell anyone how you’ve spent years organizing that little compartment in the corner of your brain that’s dedicated purely to Azzi – the meticulous system of filing cabinet-esque thoughts and facts about her; you know that you store her favorite color right next to her coffee order, only three rows down from vivid images of her smile, the dimples on her cheeks, the slight pout of her lips.

If anyone asked, Azzi Fudd was just your best friend, and you were hers. It seemed as though Azzi was none the wiser – or perhaps she was too polite to say anything otherwise, or maybe she’d felt the same way, too, and was just as afraid of ruining your friendship as you were – no way that was actually the truth, though. Despite your best efforts, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. Paige was convinced that you and Azzi were meant to be. Caroline always glanced at you meaningfully when you and Azzi walked into the room at the same time or when she caught you staring at her from afar. It was as though you and Azzi were just one big inside joke that everyone was in on but the two of you.

It’s a late night at Ted’s when you find yourself nursing a drink at your usual table. Paige had stolen Aubrey and Ayanna away to play some pool, KK, Jana, and Ice were dancing, and Azzi and Caroline went to the bathroom to freshen up. In times like these, you wish you were just a little better at saying no to Azzi – there’s something in the air that’s bringing your mood down and you can’t figure out what it is. It’s like a heaviness weighing down on you, a sort of dread that fills your veins. You’re sure the liquor isn’t helping either. Granted, you’re only a few sips in, not one to ever progress past tipsy, but you’re not really feeling the night out. Azzi had gazed at you with her big doe eyes, lips drawing into a pout. You figure you’d have a better chance at fighting off a bear than living with yourself after denying Azzi something.

“Hey–”

You can’t help the way you startle, lost in your thoughts. Azzi’s tinkling laughter reverberates in this small bubble of space you’ve created in the back corner of the bar; despite yourself, your lips curl into an amused smile, Azzi’s presence alone enough to lift your mood. “How’s the brooding, Batman?”

Huffing out something akin to laughter, you roll your eyes a little, sliding over in the booth to let Azzi in. She sits, eliminating the space between your bodies completely; you swallow, trying to not fixate on the way her shorts ride up on her thighs as her skin presses against yours, and Azzi? She’s the perfect picture of nonchalance, taking a sip from her drink like she’s completely unaware of how she’s turned your brain into mush. “Not brooding,” you argue. You don’t comment on how weak your voice sounds. Blessedly, Azzi doesn’t either, but she sets her drink down on the table to gaze at you. 

Her brows draw together when she asks, “You okay?” Her fingers brush across your cheek and up your temple, which makes all of the blood rush to your head. “You’re feeling a little hot. You sure you’re not catching whatever bug Kayla and Jana had?”

You try for a chuckle, but even that comes out unconvincing. “Might be the alcohol,” you deflect, knowing full well that the two and a half sips you’ve had weren’t even enough to get you buzzed. The truth of the matter is that after a while, this just gets exhausting – pretending that you weren’t completely head over heels for Azzi. She’s your best friend. It’s easy to hide your feelings during the day when you’re both occupied – Azzi with basketball, you with softball – but things change at night. You’re looser, less-restrained, and all of the walls you keep up during the day to keep your feelings at bay come crashing down. Everything just feels so much more stronger and part of you starts to wonder if it’s worth it anymore – harboring your feelings. Maybe saying them out loud would be enough for you to start working through them and finally get over Azzi. Maybe you could finally be just friends again and you could spend time with her without hyperfocusing on how each and every one of your nerve-endings light up with activity at the slightest brush of her skin against yours.

Then, Azzi’s smiling at you, something soft and warm and mischievous all at the same time, like she’s got a trick up her sleeve and she knows that you’ll spend hours trying to figure out what it is. Her next words surprise you, moreso when her hand circles around your wrist, intertwining your fingers. “Come dance with me,” she requests.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, glancing at her hesitantly. “What?” you say smartly.

Azzi rolls her eyes, standing and pulling you to her feet. “I said–” She plants her hands on your shoulders and all you can really do is let yours fall to her waist, your fingers catching on her belt loops, “–come dance with me. You’ve been sitting too long. No wonder that half a shot of alcohol is kicking your ass.”

“It was like two shots,” you shoot back, but you let Azzi drag you across the room. You catch Paige’s eye as she leans over the pool table, lining up her shot, and she gives you a knowing look that just makes your cheeks heat up all over again. If you never got the chance to tell Azzi how you’d felt, you were sure that Paige Bueckers and that big ass mouth of hers would find a way to slip up and tell Azzi herself. “And you know that bartender uses that strong tequila.”

“I think you’re just a lightweight, babe,” Azzi states, pulling you into her space as she leads you to the beat of the music. You try to not focus too much on her words, but babe has begun to circulate through your mind on repeat, bumping into things haphazardly. Before you know it, one of your last remaining brain cells has caught the word in a jar like a butterfly and has stored it in that compartment in your brain next to everything you know about Azzi. The jar is tucked onto a shelf, only a few rows down from your filing cabinet system; one day you’ll worry about just how much space in your brain is dedicated to Azzi Fudd, but as her hands burn marks into your skin, guiding your body against hers, you find that you don’t really care.

Neither of you say anything as you dance along to the song. You can feel the bass in the ground, reverberating through your body as it races up your spine. You feel Azzi’s hand splayed across your waist, her grip firm, like there’s some sort of unspoken promise that she’d lose it if you weren’t in her personal space at all times – she spins you around, your back to her front, and the drag of her fingertips against your skin makes your head dizzy. Her breath tickles the back of your neck, her voice sweet as she hums in tune with the singer through the crackling speakers.

It’s in times like these that everything fades away – your hesitation, your insecurities, the worries that Azzi may never truly reciprocate what you feel for her. All you can truly focus on is the gradually lessening space between the two of you, the cloud of her perfume in the air, each and every one of her whispered lyrics and the smile she presses against your temple. You’re not sure if there’s a chance in hell that you’d be able to get over her. But for now, that’s the least of your worries, far too lost in the warmth of her palm against your bare skin where your shirt has ridden up – until you’re dragged back into the real world.

Azzi’s grip has tightened on you, but you barely register it as you open your eyes to see who has interrupted you. It’s a girl, probably around your age, hair dyed a red so dark that it’s nearly brown. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress, and sure, she’s conventionally attractive, but Azzi has had your attention for nearly four years; you can’t think or look at anyone that’s not her. When the redhead asks Azzi to dance, a hopeful smile on her face, you feel your stomach churn immediately. It’s enough to sober you up fully – drunk not because of the alcohol, but because you’d allowed yourself to fall into Azzi as if the two of you were actually together. You’re reminded of the fact she’s just your best friend. The way she’s holding you means nothing. You feel Azzi’s gaze on you, but before she can say anything, you extract yourself from her hold, smiling unconvincingly at her, and you’re too unfocused to notice the way her face falls.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you say, nodding meaningfully to the redhead as bile pools in your throat. “You have fun, okay?”

You’re gone before Azzi can say anything else, unwilling to look back. You push your way through the crowd to the bar, swallowing back the humiliation and the fact that despite everything, a part of you still yearns for Azzi, and you motion to the bartender, requesting another drink. You dig through your wallet for your card, fingers trembling, cursing under your breath when it refuses to slide out of the little pocket it’s nestled in.

“I got it,” someone else says. You glance up to see an unfamiliar woman offering her card out for the bartender to swipe. She flashes you a charismatic smile and in return, all you can do is raise your brow.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say, but you slide your wallet back into your pocket, anyway.

“Seemed like you needed a pick me up,” she says, shrugging a shoulder. “Saw you dancing with that girl over there – I was hoping she wasn’t your girlfriend, because I’ve been wanting to buy you a drink all night.”

You take a cautious sip, glancing back into the crowd of people, your eyes finding Azzi immediately. She’s dancing half-heartedly with the redhead, a generous amount of space between the two of them, and she seems to feel your eyes on her because she turns her head, locking eyes with you. You stare for a beat, then avert your gaze, making eye contact with the woman before you. She’s blonde, easy on the eyes, and she seems nice enough. Why not? “We aren’t together,” you state – although you wish you were – and her smile seems to grow.

She tells you her name – Alex – and the two of you dance for about fifteen minutes until Jana, with the grace of a bull in a China shop, interrupts to complain about a tummy ache and that everyone needs to go home. You weren’t sure where she got the logic on that one, but Jana had seemed desperate, and you weren’t going to tell her off in front of Alex.

You and Alex exchanged numbers. Still, she was nice enough, but she wasn’t Azzi. Maybe she was what you needed to get over Azzi, though. Conversation flowed nicely between the two of you and you had some things in common. Maybe you could grow to like her. Maybe you just needed to find someone the opposite of Azzi – blonde, boisterous, and short – to get over the crush you had on her (though you weren’t stupid enough to actually think it was a crush).

Azzi drives you home after Ted’s that night. You’re both silent for the first few minutes until she speaks up. “Did you have fun?” she asks cautiously. You don’t need to ask her to clarify – you know what she means.

You also know that you can’t lie to Azzi. You’ve never been any good at it. She glances at you from the corner of her eye and you feel yourself sink a little further into her passenger seat. “Would’ve had more fun with you,” you confess, watching as some of the tension melts from her shoulders.

“Then why didn’t you?”

You shrug a little, picking at your cuticles. You know exactly why you pushed her away. You just weren’t strong enough to admit it to her. “The redhead seemed to like you,” you say softly. “You don’t have to spend all your time with me. You can like…see other people. Do shit. Have fun. I don’t wanna be your clingy best friend.”

Azzi’s jaw ticks as she signals left, coming to a stop in the turn lane as she waits for the light to change. “What if I want to?” she murmurs. “Spend time with you, I mean. It’s not clingy. It’s just us.” That’s kind of the issue. You don’t voice that thought out loud, trying to ignore the rapid pounding of your heart, too. She speaks again before you can, her voice coming out in an almost petulant huff. “I don’t even remember her name.”

At that, you choke on a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at her. “Whose?” you ask. “The redhead?”

“Yeah,” Azzi confirms, pressing on the gas once the light turns green. “She wasn’t you.”

You swallow thickly. “Alex’s not you, either,” you whisper.

Azzi makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. “Alex,” she repeats, like she’s in disbelief. “Do you like her?”

You shrug again, noncommittal. “She’s…nice,” you say. “And she bought me a seven dollar drink, so…” Azzi doesn’t find that as humorous as you did, her lips drawing into a pout, one you would have teased her for had the situation been less tense. “Az, what’s the issue? I was with her for like, twenty-five minutes. I’m not getting married to her.”

That makes Azzi fall silent again, contemplating her next words. “No issue,” she says, clearing her throat, as if sobering back up. “I’m sorry. I think the alcohol made me moody.”

You don’t comment on how she barely made it through her first drink before switching to water, but she didn’t comment on your lies and deflections, either. “It’s okay,” you say, summoning the courage to nudge her gently. She glances at you once more, a soft look on her face as you say, “Who’s brooding now, Batman?”

That makes her roll her eyes, giggling under her breath before she refocuses on the road. The tension in the car dissolves as she turns on your shared playlist, continuing to drive. For a moment, it feels like nothing is wrong. Tonight was just weird. There’s nothing going on between you and Azzi. Then, your phone buzzes in your lap, the screen lighting up with a text notification from an unknown number. It’s Alex – letting you know that she enjoyed getting to meet you and that she’d like to see you again. You feel the unmistakable feeling of dread wrap its iron fist around your heart. Too caught up in your own reaction to the message, you don’t notice how Azzi’s knuckles turn white as they grip the wheel.

Against your better judgement, you do see Alex again. You stared at her message for a few hours, trying to come up with one good reason why you couldn’t give her a chance, but your mind came up blank every time. She was nice, attentive, had a good sense of humor, and she was wholly focused on you when you’d spend time together. Still, no matter what, you couldn’t shake the image of warm brown eyes from the forefront of your mind. You tell yourself that it’s not supposed to be an overnight change. You don’t love someone for four years and expect it to go away. So, you give Alex that chance (even though it feels so wrong), and she treats you to a few dates over the course of three weeks.

You get to know her. At the very least, she’s a good friend and a charismatic date. She tips well, makes you laugh, and she has an adorable little weiner dog named Bruiser (��Legally Blonde style,” she’d said jokingly, which did make you laugh, mostly because Bruiser, despite his name, was dressed in a cute pair of pink pajamas). By the third date, you start to feel a little hopeful that you’re finally making progress. Alex doesn’t push you – she seems to understand that you want to take it slow, which is something that you’re grateful for. She hasn’t asked you to be her girlfriend yet, either, which is also something you’re grateful for. Becoming her girlfriend this early feels too real, like the idea of you and Azzi is something that you’re fully leaving in the past. Keeping up the facade around Azzi does weigh on you, but it’s become something that feels like a core part of you and being without it feels wrong.

Speaking of Azzi, you don’t tell her too much about the Alex situation. She doesn’t ask much about her, either, a barely concealed look of irritation clouding her features whenever her name is mentioned. She hasn’t told you that she doesn’t like Alex, but at this point, you think her telling you is more of a formality than anything else. It’s clear as day that she hates Alex’s guts, although you don’t suppose Azzi will ever tell you why.

Maybe you’ll be better off this way – having one part of your life that doesn’t revolve around Azzi – well, doesn’t revolve completely around Azzi. Hopefully this little bit of independence will be good for you. This feels more like blind reassurance than actual confidence, but you’ll take what you can get at this point.

As you and Alex spend more time together, something changes with Azzi. At first, it’s nothing serious and you hardly even notice it. Azzi’s texts come a little more frequent, your FaceTimes a little longer. It’s miniscule especially because you and Azzi already text frequently and you spend hours on FaceTime together, but it’s more like a concerted effort to keep you with her and talking to her for longer periods of time. You’re not exactly sure why, although you’re not complaining; you’ve always enjoyed your late night phone conversations where Azzi loses her filter and rambles on and on for hours about the funny things that happen at practice or the latest picture of Stewie that her mom had sent her. You do have to admit this change in behavior makes it a little more difficult to get over Azzi – the constant proximity and speaking isn’t doing you any favors – but you can’t just abandon Azzi because you’re talking to Alex now. Your goal is to go back to a complete, platonic friendship with her, not ice her out completely.

Azzi’s behavior does progress, though. Still, it’s subtle – she’ll come over to your apartment more often or invite you over to hers more frequently. You’ll spend the night watching movies, giggling over the shitty acting or singing along to the Disney movies that Azzi ropes you into watching with her (as if you’d ever say no to her). It ends with her convincing you to stay over or her coming up with a slick excuse how she should just stay the night since her apartment is so far away (that you see right through – Azzi Fudd is a lot of things but a good liar is not one). Sometimes she’ll leave behind a shirt or a hair tie at your apartment; when you ask if she wants you to bring it over, her response is always the same: “Nah, keep it. I don’t have enough space in my closet for that shirt,” or “I noticed you were running out of hair ties anyways – you should just keep it.”

(When Alex comes over, she’ll notice each and every new addition, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Azzi left her sweatpants this time?” she asks, gingerly moving them from the foot of your bed to your desk chair. You don’t notice the bothered look on her face as you hum.

“Yeah,” you say, not thinking much of it. “She said she has too many.”

“Right,” Alex hums, not quite convinced. “You don’t want any of mine?”

Confused, you glance at Alex, busy folding your own laundry. “Your what?”

Alex huffs quietly. “...Forget about it.”)

Then, the behavior ramps up. Azzi is touchier, borderline clingy, which is different because you’re usually the clingy one between you and Azzi. It’s not that obvious when the two of you are watching movies at night – she’ll just lean against you, her head on your shoulder and a leg slung over yours, but in public? She’s almost possessive, always needing to be in contact one way or the other, a firm arm wrapped around your waist at all times. When tipsy randoms approach you to ask to dance, she doesn’t even let them finish their sentences before she’s tightening her arm around you, shaking her head with faux sympathy, and saying, “Sorry, she’s spoken for.”

In public is one thing. But in public when Alex is around is when Azzi really shines. You and Alex aren’t official yet, which is something that Azzi seems to take advantage of. Azzi buys all your drinks, glancing at Alex when she smiles that honey-sweet smile and says, “C’mon, you know I got you, right?” She always whisks you away to dance before Alex can get the chance to, and to be honest, you let her. Deep down, you know that you’d rather be doing this anyway – dancing with Azzi, letting her pull you close like she’s trying to stake a claim or prove something to someone, letting her whisper the lyrics in your ear and the both of you laughing when she starts making up her own words because the actual ones don’t make any sense.

You don’t think much of Azzi’s behavior until Alex calls you that night when Azzi’s in the shower. Alex offered to drive you home, but Azzi stepped in to let her know that you’d be staying over with Azzi to watch a new movie that had recently come out – you weren’t aware those were the plans, but you didn’t mind, either. You’re doing your skincare at Azzi’s vanity when your phone rings. Part of you is tempted to let it go to voicemail, but Alex had seemed bothered, and while the two of you weren’t official yet, you didn’t want to be an asshole.

“Hello?” you greet, pressing the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you rub in your moisturizer. 

“Hey,” Alex says. You hear her exhale sharply. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t really know how to, like, explain this, but I feel like you keep blowing me off for Azzi,” Alex states, which makes you pause in your movements. “I feel like Azzi is jealous – of me – and she keeps trying to, fuck, I don’t know, worm her way in between us to keep you away from me? And you just let her do that shit.” You’re silent, letting her words echo in your brain, but she keeps speaking before you get the chance to. “I know she’s your friend. But ‘friends’ don’t behave like that. She’s one day away from pissing on you like a dog to mark her territory and I just need to know – do you even like me? Is this going anywhere? Because I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. I’m trying to be nice about it but at this point I can’t tell what you want from me.”

You open your mouth, then close it, looking vaguely fish-like in the mirror. You can hear Alex’s breathing from the other end of the line as you try to gather your thoughts. Finally, you settle, and gently you say, “Azzi is my best friend.” You can almost visualize Alex’s eye roll, the soft huff that she thinks the microphone doesn’t pick up on. “She’s not jealous. Just…protective, I guess. She’s not trying to get in between us – we’re just always close like that.”

“Then tell her to chill,” Alex says frustratedly. “It’s making me feel like I’m the other woman – like I’m just something you’re stringing along in case Azzi gets bored. Did she ever act like this before I started taking you out? Why is she suddenly so obsessed with being all over you now that she doesn’t have all of your attention?”

“Alex,” you say calmly, surprising yourself. “I am not your girlfriend.”

She laughs bitterly from the other line. “Oh, it’s like that? What, I take you on a few dates and it didn’t mean shit to you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you hiss. “You don’t have a claim over me. You’re acting like a dog trying to mark its territory. You are not the other woman. There isn’t even a woman. Ask me to be your girlfriend – or don’t – but leave Azzi out of this.”

Alex doesn’t say anything for a few beats until she scoffs. “Okay. Whatever. Have a good fucking night – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up without a second word. You roll your eyes, huffing, dropping your phone face down on the surface of Azzi’s vanity as you continue your skincare routine.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Azzi’s voice startles you, which causes you to groan and Azzi to giggle. She murmurs an apology as she comes up behind you, resting her palms over your shoulders, her thumbs pressing into your shoulder blades pleasantly. “Everything okay?”

You shrug, sighing again as her fingers work out the knots in your back. “Alex is just being weird,” you say, grunting when her fingers dig in harder than intended at the mention of her name. Azzi whispers another apology, softening her motions.

“What’d she say?” Azzi coaxes.

You meet her eyes through the mirror, seeing nothing but concern and a willingness to help on her features. “She just…I don’t know. She said you’re ‘one day away from pissing on me like a dog trying to mark its territory.’”

Azzi’s jaw drops, pausing in disbelief for a moment until peals of giggles fall from her lips. Her amusement makes you feel a little bit better about the situation. “Gross,” she says.

“I know,” you agree. “She thinks you’re trying to get between me and her. I told her there wasn’t even a ‘me and her.’ She hasn’t asked me to be her girlfriend.”

Azzi snorts. “How’d she take that one?”

“She told me to have a good fucking night and that she’d see me tomorrow.”

“Yikes,” Azzi says.

You hum again. “Yeah. I’m not really bothered, though. Don’t really wanna deal with it right now. She thinks you’re obsessed with being all over me and that you’re possessive. I said we’re just best friends, like we’ve always been like this?” It’s then that you catch onto Azzi’s sudden silence. Concerned, you turn in your chair to look at Azzi directly. “Az? You good?”

“You know you could do better than her, right?” Azzi’s words surprise you. Your jaw falls slightly, brows drawing together in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Azzi emphasizes, “what’s so good about Alex?” She spits her name like it’s poison. “She danced with you one night at a bar and thinks that makes you exclusive. She’s jealous, possessive, and she doesn’t even try to be cordial to me, Paige, Jana, or anyone. You could do so much better than her. You know you don’t have to settle.”

“I’m not settling,” you argue, even though you know you 100% are settling because you can’t have Azzi.

Azzi gives you a knowing look, one that softens when she sees the confusion in your features, the angst, the insecurity that no matter what, the decision you’re making isn’t a good one. “I just feel like I’m losing you to her,” she admits in a whisper. “That you’re gonna choose her over me.”

“Az,” you breathe out, your heart aching. “I’d never do that. You’re not gonna lose me.”

“I feel like I already have,” Azzi says. She swallows, her eyes searching yours, and she takes a deep breath like this conversation is physically destroying her. She shifts, staring at the wall instead of you, and the way her next breath comes out in a shudder makes you feel like she’s realized something damning. “I don’t… I like being us. Before there was an Alex. And I know I don’t have a claim over you – but it feels like things are changing faster than we realize. That we’re changing and I can’t even figure out why or what’s different because you’re with Alex.”

You soften, standing to face her fully, and you cup her cheeks, pulling her attention back to you. “We aren’t changing,” you promise. “You’re still you. I’m still me. Alex won’t change that.”

“Do you even like her?” You falter, not expecting Azzi to ask you that, and your silence is all the answer she needs. “Why are you with someone you don’t even like?”

“I’m not with her,” you say weakly, but Azzi is shaking her head, pressing on.

“You don’t have to settle,” she reminds you again. “She is not your only option.”

You can’t tell if Azzi is trying to convince you or herself of that. You don’t have the courage to be honest with her, to tell her the real reason you’ve spent so long trying to make yourself believe that you truly liked Alex. So you don’t. Instead, you whisper, “Do we have to talk about this tonight?”

Azzi’s face falls slightly, but you hardly notice it, too caught up in the way your heart nearly pounds out of your chest. She nods, stepping back, and she clears her throat. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

You can recognize the look in Azzi’s face from a mile away. Softening again, you reach out, wrapping her in a tight hug, one that she immediately melts into. “Thank you,” you murmur into her neck, her skin still a little warm to the touch from her shower. She doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead tightening her arms around your waist, and exhaling deeply.

Alex asks you to be her girlfriend the night after your conversation with Azzi. She’d showed up to your apartment unprompted, bouquet in hand and an apologetic expression on her face. “I was out of line,” she’d said, sincerity in her features. “It wasn’t right of me to get upset or accuse you and Azzi of what I accused you of.” Your heart was pounding out of your chest while she explained herself, apologizing and making it right all in one, but the way your heart raced wasn’t out of anticipation. It wasn’t because you’d spent so long wishing that Alex would ask. Your pulse thrummed because of pure dread and adrenaline coursing through your veins. This wasn’t what you wanted. Not at all. You wanted Azzi – you’ve wanted nobody else but her for close to four years.

But Alex wanted you. Azzi didn’t. You needed to get over her. So, feeling as though you’re making a terrible decision you may never be able to come back from, you say, “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

For a while, things are okay. Azzi clearly isn’t happy with you and Alex now being official, but your friendship stays the same. You try to split your time between the two of them, not wanting to feel as though you have to make a choice between your best friend and your girlfriend, and for the first month that you and Alex are together, it works well enough.

At least it does until Alex decides that it’s not enough.

It’s a Friday night, and you’re supposed to go over to Paige’s dorm to hang out with her and the rest of the team. They’d had a nailbiter game on Thursday and between practices and exams, you all just wanted to take the time to spend together and relax. KK was supposed to be bringing her Switch and you were looking forward to beating Paige’s smug ass at Mario Kart.

“You’re seriously going out?” Alex says from her bed, where she’s been watching you touch up your make-up in the mirror.

You resist an eye roll, not really wanting to argue, so calmly, you explain, “I’m just going to Paige’s to hang out with the team.”

“Feels like you never want to make time with me anymore,” Alex complains. You don’t respond to that, focusing on your mascara, until she speaks up again. “Is Azzi gonna be there?”

Your hand falters, smudging against your cheekbone, and you sigh in frustration as you dig through your clutch for a makeup wipe. “She’s on the team, so yes, Azzi will be there.”

“You do know you’re not with her, right?” That makes you stop moving completely, sliding the wand into the applicator. You turn to meet Alex’s gaze, who seems proud at having elicited a reaction.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not with Azzi,” Alex repeats, as if you needed a reminder. That’s the reason why you’re in this fucked up mess anyways, trying to make yourself like someone who’s not actually the woman you love. “So why do you keep running back to her at the end of the day? You’ve been friends for, what, four years now? If she wanted you, don’t you think she would have done something about it by now?” Despite the anger bubbling in your chest, embarrassment also blooms on your cheeks. “I want you. She doesn’t. Stop chasing her and running away from me – it’s not going to change anything.”

For that, you have no true response, your heart racing. You just feel trapped now. This isn’t what you wanted at all, but you feel like you’re too far in to quit now. “Stay in with me,” Alex states. It’s not a plea, not a request. It’s a demand – and for a moment, you think maybe she’s right. You’re still her girlfriend. You have to spend time with her. 

You text Paige, letting her know that you can’t make it tonight. Her response is swift, an over dramatic series of crying emojis followed up by a message that makes your heart constrict – “Az was lookin forward to this all week, she’s gonna crash out lol.” You don’t really know what else to say, so you just send Paige another apology before powering your phone off, knowing that as soon as Azzi finds out, you’re going to be the first person she calls.

You and Alex curl up on her couch, browsing through Hulu for a show to watch. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders feels wrong. It’s too stifling, too possessive. It’s nothing like the way Azzi would wrap her arm around you – making you feel safe and grounded all at once. Alex is nothing like Azzi and in the beginning, you thought that was just what you needed to let go of Azzi. Now, it feels like giving up Azzi feels like giving up a part of yourself.

Another month passes by in a blur of daily disappearances, shitty excuses, and daydreams of soft brown eyes and a dimpled smile. Anytime you’d try to make plans with Azzi or her teammates, Alex would remind you of all the reasons why you shouldn’t. You’re with me – not them. Why did you pursue me if you were just going to discard me? And at a certain point in time, the edges start getting blurry. You can’t even remember if you’d truly made those promises to Alex in the first place.

Azzi tried to reach out a few times, but Alex’s watchful eye had creeped into every facet of your life. She was there to pick you up from your practices. There wasn’t a single plan you’d made that she hadn’t carefully looked over and approved – most of them she invited herself along for, just to make sure you wouldn’t stray too far away. Weeks passed and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a life to yourself that wasn’t corrupted by every inch of the woman you’d danced with at the bar.

Escaping feels too difficult. Lately, it feels as though Alex knows more about you than you know about yourself. She strings you along just to yank the chain, leaving you unmoored and choking around a collar you were sure you’d fastened yourself. She’s devoted and loving one moment, cold and apathetic the next when she feels as though you hadn’t done enough to earn her affection. She’s attached at your hip for one week, then leaves you drowning the next when she suddenly ghosts, leaving you wondering if you’d truly had a girlfriend at all.

The irony isn’t lost on you. Alex had accused you of stringing her along for the ride to get over Azzi, and now here she is. You don’t think she’s trying to use you to get over someone, but perhaps she’s punishing you for the way you’d chosen Azzi at every opportunity at the beginning of your relationship. You’re doing the time now, you suppose, although every morning you wonder if and when your sentence would end; you hope that Alex would grow tired of you one day and finally dispose of you. You weren’t sure if you had the confidence to drag yourself out of this mess despite how easily you threw yourself into it.

“You know Azzi’s like, in love with you, right?” Alex asks you one day. You’re sitting at the table, poking at your chicken and spinach mindlessly. Your girlfriend sits across from you, arms crossed and plate clean. Her words make you falter, your fork stilling, and you don’t glance up, not wanting to confront the expression on her face. “I recognized it the first night at the bar. She was all over you while you were dancing, holding you like she owned you. When she went to dance with someone else, it was a complete shift – she didn’t even want that other girl. Just you.”

At that, you glance up finally, searching Alex’s eyes. They’re cold, nothing like the Azzi’s warm brown that you’d spent years memorizing the exact hue of. “What are you trying to say?” you ask, because you truly don’t understand her point. Doesn’t she understand that she’s won? That she’s broken you down, separated you from your friends, that she’s interwoven herself into the very fabric of your life? What else could you have for her to take?

Alex shrugs, a picture of nonchalance, but you see the tension in her shoulders anyways. “I just want you to know why I’m doing this,” she says, which makes a cold feeling course through your veins. “I don’t want to be the bad guy. You know that, right? I just want to protect you, from someone who wants to take you from me. Azzi couldn’t take care of you like I could. She always had this agenda from the very first night we met. Do you understand that?”

Your fingers are trembling around your fork. “Alex,” you whisper, drawing her attention to you. Her head cocks like you’re a wounded animal on the side of the road and she’s studying you to determine if she should leave you – or at the very least, move you out of harm’s way. You know her, though. She’s the type of person to keep on driving. “I’m tired. Can we not do this right now?”

Her lips curl into a smug, self-satisfied smile, because she knows. She knows she’s elicited a reaction, even if it’s not as obvious. She knows that she’s won this round. She stands, leaving her plate behind, and she looms behind you as her hand trails across your shoulders. Then, she leans in, planting the barest of kisses to your temple that makes your body tighten with barely concealed fear and dread. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” she whispers, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “One day you’ll understand what I’ve done for you.”

She leaves and it’s only then that you allow your body to relax. Exhaling deeply, you bury your head in your hands, feeling tears of anguish and frustration building at your waterline. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You don’t need to look at it to know who it is. Azzi has been trying to reach you for a while. She hasn’t given up, but you haven’t had the energy to text her back, to tell her about what’s going on. Now, you think you might have to take that chance.

That night, while Alex snores unknowingly next to you, you collect your bag and all of the clothes stored in her drawers. With quiet footsteps, you exit her apartment, already reaching for your phone with trembling fingers as you dial the one number you know will pick up at any time. It barely rings once before the line clicks through.

Azzi’s greeting is a murmur of your name, both in disbelief and ever present relief. “Azzi,” you say back, your voice barely reaching her. “Please come pick me up.”

“Do you want water? Juice?”

Azzi’s voice cuts through the haze in your brain. When she picked you up, neither of you had said anything, but you’d hugged her tight enough that she groaned a little, which made you smile for what feels like the first time in forever. She let you into her apartment wordlessly, took your bag to her room, and sat you down on the couch.

“I’m okay,” you say. All you really wanted was to feel comfortable in your own skin again, but being in Azzi’s presence is doing wonders for you. You can’t help but feel a bit of residual guilt – all of this could have been avoided had you been braver, if you’d denied Alex from the start or if you could just muster the courage to tell Azzi that you’ve been in love with her for four years. “Can we just…can we go to bed?”

Azzi nods quickly, murmuring an affirmative, and she links her hand with yours as she leads you down the familiar hallways. It shouldn’t bring you as much peace as it does, but holding Azzi’s hand makes you feel like you’re a sailor coming home after a long voyage and finally spotting the lighthouse in the distance. Azzi’s bed is a welcome comfort and you fall into place next to her, feeling the tension melt out of your shoulders.

You can feel her next to you, the warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume in the air, and you feel your heart ache all over again. This was where you were supposed to be. Not with Alex. Even if you and Azzi remained friends forever and you kept your feelings for her close to your chest, it would still be better than going through these past few weeks with Alex on repeat.

“I missed you,” Azzi admits, her voice cutting through the darkness in the room. She shifts. You can feel her eyes on you, so you shift, too, coming face to face with her.

“I missed you too,” you whisper, watching as a soft smile spreads across her face. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

You swallow thickly. “For everything. For Alex. For leaving you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Azzi promises. Hearing those words is like coming up for air after being submerged for so long. You don’t know if she knows just how healing it was to hear her say that. Her hand finds yours, squeezing you gently. “I’m sorry for not doing more to help you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shoot back, a coy smile on your face, which makes Azzi giggle.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Azzi murmurs.

You think that you should – that you owe it to yourself and to Azzi to be honest about the last few months. So you do. Azzi listens to you as you start from the beginning, outlining the course of your and Alex’s relationship and where it derailed. When you finish, Azzi’s face is full of concern, sadness, and a slight determination. She’d apologized again. You told her it was okay, mostly because it was okay. You would be okay.

“Do you love her?” Azzi asks a few beats later, perhaps a bit selfishly. 

“No,” you confess, feeling Azzi relax against you. “I never did.” She nods, and you both fall silent for a moment until you speak up again. “Az?” She hums, her fingers brushing against your skin. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth? Alex said something earlier and I’m…I’m just tired of feeling like I’m crazy.”

“Anything,” she promises. 

“Do you love me?” The words come out less composed than you’d been trying for, your voice cracking at the end, but you don’t really care. You need answers. You’d spent so many years loving Azzi from afar, but for Alex to say she’s confident in Azzi loving you back? This could change everything.

“Of course I do,” Azzi says, her words a little jilted. “You’re my best friend.”

You feel your heart drop, but you press forward. “Not in that way, Az.”

You can hear her breath hitch. At first, you’re not sure if you’re going to get a response, but she tightens her grip on your waist, and admits, “Yeah. I love you.”

Silence encompasses the both of you. Azzi doesn’t push – she never does, and that might be one of the things you love most about her. She lets you process that revelation on your own. At first, a part of you wonders if it was truly that easy in the first place, if all you ever needed to do was ask Azzi. The fear of her saying anything but yes outweighed the hope. Now that you’ve heard it, you can’t deny how much lighter your chest feels, the hope that swells in your chest. “Say it again,” you request.

“I love you,” Azzi swears, her voice a little firmer this time, her hands holding onto you like she’s afraid you’re going to disappear completely. “I love you. I have for years. Seeing you with Alex almost destroyed me.”

Feeling a little braver, you sit up, moving your legs to straddle her waist. There’s nothing inherently sexual about it, but the sheer closeness makes you feel a little more grounded, especially when her hands steady you by the hips. “I’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

“Don’t be,” Azzi murmurs, her thumb brushing against your hip bone.

“I was only with her because I thought I could get over you,” you confess, which makes her jaw relax, her face soften. “God, Az, I’ve been in love with you forever. I didn’t think I could have you.”

Despite the heaviness of the moment, Azzi’s lips quirk into a fond, relieved smile. Her hands leave your hips, fingers brushing your arms as she trails them up. She hooks a finger into the collar of your shirt, pulling you down to her as she whispers, “You have me. Completely.”

You’re not thinking about the consequences as you finally kiss Azzi Fudd – you’re not concerned about the fact that technically, you have a girlfriend that you’re technically cheating on, nor are you concerned about what this means for you and Azzi. The logistics are a problem for you tomorrow. Azzi sighs against you, her lips insistent, fingers tangling in your shirt – and to be honest, it’s a pleasant paradox. Alex is a taker in every definition of the word, but Azzi swallows each little sound you make against her lips, pressing firmer against you to take everything you’ll give her, but there’s a bit of mutualism in the way you and Azzi simultaneously take and give.

One of her hands releases your shirt to cup your cheek, her palm warm against your skin as it rapidly heats. You’re both passionate, a little desperate, but despite it all, the love between the two of you is palpable – you can feel it in your heart and the way it swells; it courses through your veins, leading you home, reminding you that this is a love you’ve spent years harboring and cultivating. 

People always say your first kiss with someone you love is a little earth-shattering, that it’s like fireworks or coming home. To you, this kiss with Azzi feels something like freedom. It feels like you don’t have to keep any more secrets from her or yourself.

Azzi breaks away, her chest heaving and her breath warm against your lips. “I love you,” she whispers again, holding you tighter, insistent. “Leave her. Please.”

You’re nodding before Azzi has even finished her plea. “I will,” you swear, kissing her again. You grin when Azzi chases you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before a soft smile spreads across her features. “I love you.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything in response to that – she doesn’t have to. She presses a kiss to your temple and you stretch out across her body, her arms wrapping around you once more. You fall asleep next to her feeling free and at peace – you’re not quite out of the woods yet, but you’re almost there, and you have more moments like these to look forward to with Azzi.

She has an early practice that next morning, so she’s gone before you’re awake, but you know what you need to do. You walk the short distance to your apartment, make yourself a coffee to mentally prepare, and you send a quick text to Alex – ignoring the fifteen unread messages she’s sent between the hours of 2am to 7am – telling her to come to your apartment so you can talk. You don’t wait around for a response. You get a trash bag and start collecting all of the shit she’s left at your apartment during the time you were together – clothes, toiletries, a lone coffee mug (that you’re sure shatters once you drop it into the bag, but you don’t really care).

All of Alex’s belongings are secured in the trash bag when there’s a knock at your door. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, dragging the bag behind you as you step up to your door. You open it halfway, raising a hand and making an annoyed noise when Alex tries to walk in. “No,” you say firmly, “stay outside.”

A look of annoyance flashes across her face, but she does as you’ve commanded, crossing her arms. You reach for the bag, throwing it haphazardly behind her. “So, here’s what’s happening,” you begin. “We’re breaking up.” She opens her mouth to say something, but you cut her off with a raised hand again. “I don’t really care what you have to say. We’re done. This is all you’re getting from me. Lose my number and get fucked.”

Unceremoniously, you slam the door in her face, locking it immediately. You bury your head in your hands as your pulse pounds against your ribcage, but as you listen to the sound of her footsteps fading away, that familiar feeling of freedom returns tenfold. You could cry with relief, although you don’t, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You’re free now, and you know who your first call will be to.

Azzi picks up on the first ring, sounding a little out of breath as she greets you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond, feeling the smile creep up onto your lips – you’re sure she can hear the excitement and the relief in your voice.

And she does. She laughs a little, sounding relieved, too. “I’m on my way,” is all she says, bidding you one last goodbye before she hangs up.

You can’t get rid of your smile, and thankfully, she only keeps you waiting for about fifteen minutes. She opens your door with her key and walks in like she’s been here hundreds of times before – which she has, because there’s no part of your life that is complete without Azzi in it. She spots you immediately. You stand up from the couch, dropping your phone on the cushion, and you meet her in the middle.

Azzi is a little sweaty, disheveled from practice, but you don’t care as her arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush into her with pure relief in her laughter. You wrap yours around her neck, standing on the tips of your toes to reach her. You kiss her, something softer than the first one you’d shared the night prior. You feel her smile against your lips, which only makes you smile, too, your noses brushing against each other as you both share a breathless little laugh. She tightens her grip around you and you can’t find it in yourself to mind – you know that Azzi is always going to be there to protect you, and finally being hers after all these years is something you know that you’re not going to screw up – you did your time.

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.

Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.

( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)

***

• How it all began…

You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”

What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.

“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.

You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.

“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”

He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.

Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.

“Let us ride, shall we?”

And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.

Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:

“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.

Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?

When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.

You are the light of my world, Y/N.

As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.

“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”

That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.

“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.

You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.

A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.

Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.

“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”

A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.

Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.

“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”

“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.

You shrug your shoulders.

“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”

And you flash him a mischievous smirk.

Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.

It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.

*

There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.

“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.

You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:

“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”

Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:

“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”

You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.

“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”

Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.

“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.

You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.

“Perhaps.”

And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.

***

• Summer Children.

His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?

Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.

Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.

Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.

Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.

Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.

Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.

“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”

“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”

Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.

“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”

One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.

“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.

“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.

You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.

“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.

Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:

“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”

“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.

That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.

*

Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.

“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.

You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:

“I performed my duty well.”

Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.

“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.

The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.

“My brothers.”

“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”

“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”

Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.

“Are you well?”

“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”

“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”

“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”

No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles… who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.

“I must see her!”

Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.

You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.

“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”

“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”

You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.

“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”

“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.

The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.

Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.

“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”

Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”

You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.

“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”

A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.

“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”

“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.

“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.

You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.

“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.

Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.

“I cannot believe I am his father.”

“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”

At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:

“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”

***

Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.

“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”

Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.

“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”

“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”

“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.

“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”

Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.

*

“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.

“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”

“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.

“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.

Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.

“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.

“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”

Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.

“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”

But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…

***

• Midnight Sun.

Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.

“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.

“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”

Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.

“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”

“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”

“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.

“Mommy… flew.”

“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”

And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.

When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.

It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:

“Amazing!”

“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”

“Yes! More, more! Please!”

Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.

Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.

“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.

“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.

You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.

Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.

Such is the dance of the dragons.

**

The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.

“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”

“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.

“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”

“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.

You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.

Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

“…mine and yours are the same.”

***

• Epilogue.

Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.

Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.

She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.

She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.

“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”

Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.

“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”

Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.

“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.

Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.

“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”

“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”

For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.

“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”

Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.

“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”

“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”

You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”

And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.

“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.

“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”

“I know. But…”

“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”

“I just worry. I do not wish…”

Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.

“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”

Aegon smiles quietly.

“How can you convince me that easily?”

“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”

“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.

You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.

Oh these delights…

[milswrites]

Sweetened Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Dream Weaver Fem!Reader

Summary: Having access to the people of Velaris' dreams was a gift you did not take for granted. Having access to your mate's heated dreams? Absolutely delicious.

Warnings: 18 + mdni (f oral, p in v, sex dreams).

Word count: 2.6k

You watched on from the balcony as rosy fingered dawn made her appearance. The warm light of the morning sun bled into the horizon, casting an amber glow over the sleeping streets of Velaris.

It was early — far too early for you to be awake on your day off. And yet, despite the remnants of drowsiness which still lingered in your system, you found yourself incapable of succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

Rather, you welcomed the gentle breeze of the morning air as it kissed your reddened cheeks on the balcony of your home, the wind working to quell the heated blush which had risen in the wake of your untimely stirring.

You were no stranger to being awake at unreasonable hours — it was the gruelling nature of your job. Gifting dreams to the slumbering citizens of the Night Court. Yet, in all your years of working, never had you been disturbed by another person's dreams as you rested. Not until now.

The soft, lingering touches as his gentle hands explored your curves.

The salacious cry of pleasure which slipped from his parted lips.

The mouth-watering drag of his hips languidly meeting your own.

Azriel was dreaming.

Dreaming of you.

The sensuous image of Azriel's lustful fantasy, alongside the blinding wave of arousal being passed down the bond, was enough to leave you flushed. Dawn's cool air provided you with no respite from your mate's titillating thoughts as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer with each minute passed.

The heated kiss of his soft lips trailing across the sensitive skin of your neck.

The grounding touch of his calloused hands laced between your own.

The desperate groan which followed each passionate thrust he delivered.

It was impossible to block him out — whatever meagre control you once held over your magic had since been relinquished. Unable to change the course of his temptuous dream, your mind focussed solely on the primal surge of your mate's pleasure as it travelled down the bond. Finding every ounce of him overwhelming — your swirling thoughts were consumed by Azriel, and Azriel alone.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Lost in the haze of the male's lustful vision, images of his mouth latched onto your skin caused a pleasant warmth to pool between your legs. Desire rising in your chest, you failed to notice that Azriel's dream had ceased. The familiar hum of your unruly magic had long since subsided and yet, even in the absence of its presence, your amorous thoughts remained solely on him.

Absorbed by the insatiable pulse of your growing hunger, you startled as the low voice of your mate called out from behind you. The remnants of sleep clinging on to Azriel's words as he huskily uttered, "my love, do you ever rest?"

"The city is sleeping, and so I'm awake," you answered simply, pausing for a moment as your mate's tender hands came to wrap around your middle — Azriel's welcoming warmth enveloping you as his chest firmly pressed against your back. You released a small sigh of contentment at his action, your head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you continued, "when you sleep, your . . . thoughts -" Azriel's nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a wave of pleasure washing over your body as his soft hum urged you to continue, "-they're quite loud."

A low sound of amusement rumbled in Azriel's chest at your words. Yet, the male's efforts remained focussed on leaving a trail of languidly placed kisses along the expanse of your neck, until — finally — the ghost of his heated breath enticingly blew against your ear as the Shadowsinger confessed, "I was dreaming about you."

You were helpless in stopping the quiet moan which slipped from your lips as Azriel gently tugged you closer towards him, goosebumps rising on your skin as the light touch of his growing member brushed tantalisingly against your back. Breathless, you replied, "I know . . . I saw it."

"And was this your doing?" Azriel enquired, a small cry of frustration escaping your mouth as the male halted his sensuous actions. His teasing lips torturously hovering over the sweet spot on your neck as he continued to press, "have you been blessing my dreams again, my love?"

"Not this time," you answered truthfully. Whilst soothing Azriel's restless slumber and unsettling nightmares came naturally to you, never have you had the courage to bless your mate's dreams with the sweetness that he was referring to, "those thoughts were yours alone."

"A pity," Azriel concluded, the male lessening the grip of his arms around your waist as he devilishly smirked down at your faltering expression, "I suppose if you've already seen it, I needn't provide you with a demonstration — oh, but what a sweet dream it was."

You pouted at the absence of Azriel's searing touch as you turned to face the male. Your hand moving to slowly graze your mate's bare chest as you lifted your playful gaze to meet his darkened eyes, "now that you mention it . . . I may need a reminder of exactly what it was that I saw."

"Is that so?" the Shadowsinger asked with a raised brow, his wings twitching with a mind of their own as he noted the pleasant shift in your honeyed scent.

"Hmm . . . how did it start again?" you mused, an alluring smile working its way onto your face as you moved your lips to lightly brush against his own, Azriel's breath catching in his throat at your teasing contact as you seductively whispered, "like this?"

"Actually," Azriel's wandering hands slipped down to meet the back of your thighs, the male swiftly lifting you up into his arms as he began to retreat back into the comforting warmth of your bedroom. The promise of a fulfilling morning upon his lips as he purred, "I think it began with my head between your legs."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The experienced swipe of his salacious tongue against your slick.

The cooling bliss of his restless shadows as they moved to explore the soft contours of your writhing body.

The heated lust in his sultry gaze as he worked to keep his sight on your hooded eyes.

Azriel devoured you like a man starved.

And yet, despite the fervent nature of his actions, your mate's passion was delivered with an air of intimacy. The Shadowsinger's gentle hands moving to lace between your own as he softly groaned in satisfaction against your dripping sex.

It was almost too much to bear — your back arching from the bed in response to the carnal swipe of Azriel's tongue against your pulsing heat. A low whine falling from your lips as the male contentedly lapped up the taste of your sweetened arousal.

You mewled when Azriel turned his attention towards your clit, your mouth parting breathlessly as the male lazily trailed small circles around your aching bud. Gripping his hands tighter, you helplessly bucked against his face, your eyes closing in ecstasy as you lowly begged for more.

It was utter bliss.

Your senses were wholly consumed by your mate as he eagerly worked to bring you to completion, each delicious movement succeeding in ebbing away the last dregs of drowsiness which still remained from your early wakening.

Yet, your feeling of intense pleasure was gone all too soon, Azriel having pulled away just as you were on the precipice of your high. Groaning at the absence of his heated touch, your eyes fluttered open to meet your mate's mischievous gaze, a matching smirk etched onto his handsome face.

A lucky female indeed.

"Is this stirring your memory yet, my love?" Azriel crooned, the male slowly crawling up the length of your body until his swollen lips came to brush against your own. That same glint of unbridled mischief reflecting in your own eyes as you hummed your reply, "possibly . . ." Your hand leisurely trailed down Azriel's chest until it came to rest upon his hardened cock, "but I may need a little reminder of what came next."

A frenzied growl broke from Azriel's throat at your action, the male's eyes growing dark with lust before he finally sealed his lips against your own.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The kiss was searing — a passionate clash of tongues and teeth. Your mouths moved together in a wondrous synchrony as the two of you sought to sate your growing desire.

You were insatiable; wanting nothing more than to be consumed by all Azriel had to offer.

His sweetened scent.

His delectable taste.

His heated touch.

Every last inch of him was intoxicating.

You needed your fix of him, and so, desperate to quell the pulsing ache which had risen in your core at his fervid touch, you impatiently rolled your hips against his own. A feverish moan spilling from your lips as the head of Azriel's leaking cock brushed tantalisingly against your dripping folds.

Softly chuckling at your growing frustration, Azriel playfully nipped at the push skin on your lips as he pulled away from the kiss. Admiration pooling in your mate's hazel eyes, he stole a moment to take in the radiance of your morning glow. His once darkened gaze softening as it swept over your heavenly features, the male's mouth parted in awe as he quietly asked, "am I still dreaming?"

You blushed at the innocence of Azriel's question, your hand moving to lovingly rest against your mate's face as your thumb began to gently caress his pinkish cheeks. A soothing smile crossing your lips, you replied with a question of your own, "and what would you do if you were still dreaming?"

Azriel lent forwards, the heated touch of his breath softly tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he purred, "I would do this." The male placed a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck, your body quivering with anticipation as he began to trail his mouth lower. "And this," he uttered, sweetly placing another kiss onto the curve of your breast. "And also this," he finished, his lips moving to ghost over your pert nipple. Azriel's mouth parted into a soft 'o' as the male lightly blew onto your stiffened peak, a warm smile stretching across his face before his swollen lips finally came to close around your breast.

Sighing in bliss, you arched into the male's touch, your body writhing underneath his own as he delicately sucked at your tender skin. "Is that all?" you taunted breathlessly as Azriel moved his mouth to tend to your other breast, whining as your mate teasingly rolled his tongue around your peaked nipple.

Yet, the wondrous sensation which had risen from your mate's salacious kisses did nothing to sate your ever-growing desire. And so, needing more, you ground yourself against the male's hardened cock — your eyes heavy with want as you urged him to act.

So Azriel did. A soft cry spilling from your lips as the male slowly pushed his cock into your pulsing heat, your mate euphorically mumbling into your skin as he did so, "gods, you're perfect... my beautiful, beautiful mate." 

You flushed at both his sweetened words and the pleasant feeling of his cock as he fully sheathed himself inside you. A languorous moan emitted past your lips as he stretched you fully; the sound turning into one of incredulous frustration as your mate failed to move. Locking your legs around his waist, you impatiently ground your hips against his, asking — no begging — the male for more. "Eager little thing," Azriel whispered as he began to move his hips at a torturously slow pace, "let me enjoy you, my love."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was impossible for Azriel to look away; his drunken gaze lust-filled and half-lidded as the male fought against his growing pleasure to keep his eyes locked on you.

On the delectable bounce of your plush breasts as they followed the slow rhythm of his passionate thrusts.

On the darkness which had consumed your irises as lust and desire took hold of your gaze.

On the shape of your parted lips as you let out sweet sounds of pleasure as you milked his warmed cock.

If this were a dream, then Azriel wished never to wake — the male longing to stay in his slumber forever, so as to memorise every intricate detail of your face.

Craving a more intimate connection, Azriel entwined his hands with your own, his face moving to burrow into the curve of your neck before softened words of love and adoration began to tumble from your mate's awestruck lips.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he quickened his pace, the male chasing after the addicting high of his release. His heart pounding at the way you clenched around his cock as your own organism grew nearer. And it was there, the sweet sound of your mewling slowly working to coax your mate's eyes open, that Azriel once more bore witness to your ethereal glow. 

A bright warmth radiated from your skin, the soft light reflecting in Azriel's reverential gaze. It was as though you had been blessed by the stars themselves; your skin holding a golden lustre which made you look utterly irresistible.

You were a gift.

To Prythian.

To Velaris.

To Azriel.

Basking in the light of your other-worldly power, Azriel's grip on your hands tightened as he continued his bruising rhythm, his wings twitching as he took in your godly form beneath him. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped your lips at the male's deep strokes, his fervent passion succeeding in tipping you over the edge of bliss as the heated wave of your orgasm finally washed over you.

Guided by your glowing light, Azriel continued to chase after his own release. The male's thrusts grew desperate as he moved deeper and deeper inside of you with each stroke delivered. Until finally, Azriel reached his own high. The low tones of his frenzied groan reaching your ears as your mate came undone, ribbons of his white hot cum painting your walls as he did so.

You both lay there for a moment, the weight of Azriel's chest heaving against your own as the two of you fought to catch your breaths.

Stealing a moment to bask in the peaceful silence of dawn, you admired the male's post-sex glow. The glistening sheen of his sweat-soaked brow, the delicate curl of his tousled hair, the satisfied smile which lazily stretched across his swollen lips.

It was difficult to believe that Azriel was real and not simply a conjuring of your own imagination — a manifestation of your sweetest dreams. Yet, the grounding touch of his hands clasped between yours reminded you that this was real; that he was real.

It was only when the crushing wave of your highs had subsided, and the golden glow of your shimmering skin had dwindled, did Azriel then then pull himself from you. The male slumping onto the bed by your side, his large wings dropping in fatigue before he pulled you into the the warm embrace of his arms.

Softly sighing at the cool touch of his wandering shadows which still trailed across the length of your heated skin, you began to tease, "Was that everything you dreamed of then?"

"Everything and more," Azriel replied, his thumb working to rub small circles into your hip as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck once more, the male placing a gentle kiss onto your skin before he continued, "what a lucky male I am, to have had my dreams turned into reality by a being as beautiful as you."

You blushed at his words, amazed at the effect that the male still had on you even after years of being together. Glowing in domestic bliss, you answered, "perhaps I may have to start blessing your dreams myself if this is the treatment I'll receive. A good morning, indeed."

Azriel sleepily chuckled into your shoulder at your reply, his bright eyes finding yours before he warmly stated, "It's always a good morning when I wake to the sight of the sun between my arms."

Notes: so I'm back on the writing grind (hopefully)! I have a few more ideas for this pairing so let me know if you want to see more of them! Thank you to @itsswritten and @writingcroissant for sparking this idea and to @sarawritestories , @ninthcircleofprythian and @daycourtofficial for dealing with my mental breakdowns whilst I wrote this lol.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

[sanakiras]

HEAVEN

PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.

TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)

♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx

NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁

LIKE MOST PEOPLE, YOU FELT RATHER INTIMIDATED WHEN YOU MET JEON WONWOO FOR THE FIRST TIME.

stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.

though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.

and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.

it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—

you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.

wonwoo is cute when he smiles.

and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.

a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.

he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.

the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.

with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.

and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.

yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.

normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.

because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.

maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.

but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.

though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.

it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.

the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.

the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.

and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.

so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.

the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.

“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”

he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.

“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?

“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”

but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”

all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.

jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.

so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.

you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.

the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.

“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.

“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.

you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.

“fuck, really?”

“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”

he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.

for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.

his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.

you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.

“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.

unfortunately for him, you do.

with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. “what if i want you to?”

“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.

of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.

so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.

discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.

“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”

a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.

you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.

the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.

“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.

he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.

it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.

it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”

there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.

once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“i’m that good, huh?”

“yeah.”

“wanna keep going?”

“mhm.”

“okay. take off your shirt.”

wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.

if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.

he feels good.

especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.

his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.

“where do you keep your condoms?”

the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.

thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.

his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.

the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.

wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”

you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”

once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.

you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”

“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.

“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.

so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”

he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.

then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.

“have you thought about this? fucking me?”

despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.

“yeah, i did.”

“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?

wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”

his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.

“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”

he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”

teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.

“yeah? try me.”

“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”

“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”

that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.

his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”

“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.

he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.

the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.

“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.

once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.

burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.

he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”

god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.

“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.

“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.

then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.

he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.

surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.

“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.

“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”

“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”

you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”

he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.

“... yeah.”

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[whimsicalazriel]

fae in a china shop → Azriel x female!reader

summary: in which Azriel’s mate is clumsy

warnings: it gets a little spicy towards the end, just kissing lol. just pure tooth rotting fluff otherwise! a few spoilers

word count: 2k yay

a/n: thank you so much for the support on the first one-shot, it means the world to me 🤍

masterlist

Azriel was sure he’d have a heart attack the first time he met you. The market in Velaris was as usual filled to the brim with fae shopping last minute for winter solstice, and there you were, appearing to argue with a market stall owner, fruits of all kinds on the ground by your feet, some continuing to roll down the icy street.

The bond snapped into place, almost bringin the spymaster to his knees. You were the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. You wore a thick long coat, a few sizes too big, the sleeves falling over your gloved hands. On your head was a hat, homemade or old as loose pieces of yarn stood straight out. He found it endearing.

“Ah,” You groaned, not feeling the heavy gaze of the Illyrian a few meters away, his shadows dancing around him as if they’re containing themselves from reaching out to you. “I’m sorry,” you sounded flustered as you kneeled down to pick them up, a few rolling off your arms and into the crowd.

Azriel was frozen on the spot, his mind reeling. After 500 years he finally found you. He felt his shoulders slump in pure relief.

His shadows hissed at him to go and help his mate, but as much as he tried to move; he couldn’t. He felt foolish.

“My mother almost forbade me from going to the market today–gods knows I’m clumsy.” You joked awkwardly as you stood with an armful of fruits. “Do-how-do I just,” you gestured towards the box of fruits. “Drop them in there?”

The stall owner nodded, dumbfounded as he stared at you. You awkwardly bent over and opened your arms, letting them fall into the box. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was worried or amused as he watched you fumble.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you backed away. “Best get going before I accidentally start a fire.” You joked, choosing to ignore the horrified expression of the stall owner.

Azriel’s feet finally decided to work as he took careful steps towards you, his shadows hissing out warnings as you backed away into the crowd, not being mindful of the stray fruits and patches of ice.

Azriel quickly found himself behind you, grabbing ahold of your shoulder when your feet left the ground with a small shriek. “Careful.” He breathed out, his chest aflamed as his hands held you against him.

You turned around, a small sheepish smile on your lips. Azriel wanted to die. You were absolutely perfect.

“Gods, thank you! It would be quite embarrassing if I fell and cracked my head open.” You snorted.

Azriel winced at the image conjured in his head, “You’re welcome.” He smiled, his wings tucked in tight as he simply looked at you. He never knew how strongly felt the bond would be. He felt like an asshole for keeping Elain away from Lucien. And suddenly he found himself admiring the emissary, who kept a straight head on his shoulder despite it all.

He watched as your eyes widened, your lips pursing. “Oh.” Dread began to build up in his chest, the voices of his dead brothers coming back to haunt and taunt him.

“I-“ you began before clearing your throat. “This has never happened before,” you said softly before snorting, a big smile growing on your lips. “Obviously.”

Azriel found himself breathing out with a smile. “Would you like some company?” He softly asked, his shadows slithering towards you, not yet touching you.

You nodded quickly, holding back your excitement. He was definitely the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen, and he was your mate.

He held out his scarred hand, a small twinge of insecurity in his stomach which quickly was stomped down as you grabbed his hand without a second thought.

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ .･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙

Azriel had proudly introduced you to the inner circle, ignoring Cassian’s grin and wriggling eyebrows. You were nervous, hands shaking as you all dined in the river house. You had already spilled the glass of expensive tasting wine, much to everyone’s amusement. Azriel held your hand under the table for the rest of the night, his thumb caressing your skin.

You were a nervous wreck when you stepped into the home of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. But Rhysand and Feyre welcomed you with open arms.

“So, finally we get to meet the spymaster's mate.” Cassian spoke, Nesta sitting quietly beside him, observing you, a small smile on her lips every time you dropped something. She found you endearing to watch.

Whilst Azriel was quiet, walking in shadows to stay hidden, you tumbled around like a fawn, loud yet shy. She couldn’t get enough. She decided that night that you would leave the house being her friend.

And she was right.

Nesta, to everyone's surprise, had seemingly taken you under her wing, introducing you to her books, books you were ashamed to read but couldn’t put down. She found herself adoring your quiet yet clumsy presence, weird sense of clothing style and quickly introduced you to Gwyn and Emerie.

You had yet to formally accept the bond, both agreeing to getting to know each other the traditional way; dates and picnics by the Sidra.

Azriel knew he had fallen for you when he came to your apartment for the first time. He waited as he heard you running towards the door. “Coming!” Your voice was faint but his heart reacted the same way it always does. A thud shook the door before you opened it with a flustered smile.

“Hi!” You greeted him. Azriel could feel himself staring to laugh. “Are you okay?” He asked, gesturing to the red old door. “Oh-yeah, I tripped on the carpet.” You laughed and quickly invited him into your cluttered home.

He couldn’t imagine a place that would represent you better than your home. Mismatched furniture and carpets layered on top of each other. It was the most cozy apartment he’d seen. It smelled faintly of vanilla and there were candles on every surface.

A roll of tangled yarn laid on the floor. You saw him looking at it, and felt yourself getting more flustered. “I picked it up as a hobby a few months ago, and then it got tangled so I gave up. I did make a hat though.” You smiled proudly. If he wasn’t in love with you before, he definitely was now.

He found himself thinking back to when he first saw you. The hat that caught his attention.

You grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. “Come sit, my parents are on the way.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. “What?” He sat down on the rickety chair, adjusting his wings to get comfortable.

“Yeah.” You nodded, rushing around the kitchen to prepare something easy to eat. “It’s only fair since I met your family.” Azriel’s eyes widened further as he watched you prepare the food. ‘Is she accepting the bond?’ He thought to himself.

“Um, darling…” He began softly, standing up to walk up behind you. His hands found themselves on your hips, squeezing softly as he rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing you in.

You hummed in acknowledgment, trying to regulate your breathing. “You’re preparing me food.” He murmured. You nodded in agreement, slightly confused.

Azriel’s sigh blew hot air over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s what one does when accepting the bond.” He explained, his lips touching your skin with each word spoken.

You froze before asking tentatively, “Is it okay if I am?” Your hands shook. “I just-I really want my parents to meet you before accepting the bond.”

A groan left Azriel’s lips and he tugged you towards him. “Fuck, I love you.” He admitted with a soft laugh. You turned around in his arms to face him, your hands grabbing ahold of his neck to meet his lips with yours, but a knock halted the both of you.

Azriel’s forehead rested on yours, his hair tickling your skin. “It’s them,” you breathed out, before detaching yourself from the Shadowsinger to open the door.

Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes when your parents stepped in. He now knew where your sense of style came from. Your mother wore a green overall with a mustard yellow sweater tied around her waist. Your father also wore an overall, though it was definitely more sun bleached. On his head was an old ratty hat, hiding his unruly hair.

Azriel would never dream of ever saying someone’s parents looked interesting, but yours did.

He took notice that you and your father shared the same smile, but your eyes were definitely your mothers. Warm and loving.

A shriek left your mother as she sprung towards Azriel, her arms wide open to embrace him. He stood awkwardly, not knowing if he should hug her back. He wasn’t used to any platonic affection that came from outside the inner circle. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Mother,“ you groaned, “we talked about this. Personal space-“

“Personal space,” your mother finished the sentence with a huff and a glint in her eyes. “Yes, of course, but he’s so handsome!”

Your father laughed, a deep from the belly one as he looked at Azriel. “If he wasn’t so big I would've fought him for that.” He joked, before walking up to slap Azriel’s shoulder with wince. “He’s very strong.” He said approvingly.

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ .･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙

Your parents ended up staying for three hours, though neither of you minded. Azriel quickly warmed up to them, though a bitter taste of jealousy coated his tongue when he found himself comparing his childhood to yours.

Your father was a local fisherman whilst your mother was a bartender on certain weekends. It was all fascinating for the spymaster, who’s lived anything but an ordinary life. It was nice to imagine himself with you that way. No war, no cauldron or High Lords, just you and him.

He noticed that you and your father shared the same clumsiness as the older man knocked the kettle over after tripping over the yarn.

Your mother laughed softly with the look of raw love in her eyes. “It’s never an ordinary day with those two around.” She gestured towards you and your father as you fussed over your broken kettle.

Azriel found himself laughing along.

The moment the door closed you quickly forced Azriel to take a seat at the table once more. You sat beside him with a nervous look in your eyes.

His eyes never left yours as you fed him piece after piece of the homemade bread. You felt whole after he finished the last piece.

“I love you, Azriel, so much that it hurts.” He could only stand up and lift you on the table, ignoring the clatter of porcelain. He grabbed your neck and pressed his lips to yours. The bond stretching between the two of you, lighting up like a beacon.

His shadows caressed your skin, their cool touch leaving you gasping for air. He laughed into the kiss and tugged you closer so that he was snug between your legs. The kiss felt never ending as though time was simply a suggestion. “The bed,” you gasped between kisses.

Azriel nodded before he paused, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Where is your bed?”

You stole a few more kisses, “left door by the kitchen,”

Azriel hummed into your lips, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked you up, your thighs around his waist as he navigated through your apartment whilst kissing you like his life depended on it; which to him, it did.

He laid you softly down on the plush bed, and he took note of the three different duvets with a chuckle.

He sighed in pleasure as your lips found themselves on his neck, kissing, sucking and biting on his warm tan skin. The taste of him was like nothing you’ve ever experienced and you were willing to never stop kissing him.

Azriel grabbed ahold of your chin, his lips meeting yours in desperation.

“I will never let you go.” He murmured against your lips, his hazel eyes shining silver.

“I will never let you go either.”

Nesta could beat me up and I would thank her for it.

[angstyhikka]

REUPLOAD because I'm dumb and should've done close-ups from the start. GUYS, I SPENT A WHOLE WEEK GIVING BIRTH TO THIS, I SWEAR! I was completely obsessed - could only think about this poor feathered woman with a kid, nothing else. 😭 Didn't even finish the canvas - ran out of steam for that corner sketch. 😔 And this isn't the final design yet because I made Eda way too cutesy, when her actual character is much harsher. More on that below.

WHO SHE IS

Eda's a side character in "The Axe", but I stuffed her so full of drama even Ludwig got pissed. Here's her backstory:

• Homeless (lives in a broken-down wagon);

• Killer:

— At first her parents tried treating her at home - hid her, prayed, did magic. But the curse won: one day Eda broke free and tore a random passerby to shreds.

— Guards arrived, saw a "monster" - wanted to execute her on the spot. But her parents stood their ground: proved she wasn't a monster but their cursed daughter. Convinced the court to send her for treatment at the castle.

TREATMENT: GLYPHS, RITUALS AND THE CRYSTAL

What happened at the castle wasn't just "treatment". It was months of experiments:

Diagnosis:

— First the mages studied her: walked her through glyph circles, made her drink potions with sacred herbs, even tried "extracting" the curse with silver needles.

— Conclusion: she'd merged with the owl beast at soul level. Separating them would be like cutting a person in half.

Treatment attempts:

— Purification rituals: dunked her in ice water with runes, burned incense, chanted spells. After each session she'd pass out from pain.

— Restraining glyphs: drew suppression symbols on her skin. Worked for a couple days... then the beast broke through again.

The crystal - last resort:

— When all else failed, the mages created an artifact:

• Partially separated her consciousness from the beast

• Blocked her magic (which was fuel for the beast)

• Bonded to her sternum - if removed, she'd turn back

Her parents took her home "healed"... but for Eda, this was just the start of new hell.

PHILIP WITTEBANE

Now here's something fascinating about Eda - despite everything she's been through, she maintains this peculiar fascination with Philip Wittebane:

• She actually produces and performs puppet shows depicting him as this Robin Hood-like character who steals from the corrupt and helps the innocent - basically complete fairy tales

• She knows about him both from the various legends circulating around the islands and from having read one of his many diaries (yes, there are apparently multiple)

• She's fully aware that Philip was actually a complete asshole in reality, but that doesn't stop her from idolizing him as the ultimate model of the perfect swindler and rogue

• She actively strives to emulate this idealized image of him

• In her mind, there's absolutely nothing wrong with theft or even murder - she sees it all as natural selection at work ("if you were quick enough, you got to eat")

• The delicious irony? She has no clue (just like everyone else) that Philip is actually the Black Guard

• What connects her to the Guard is actually the whole history with her crystal... but that's spoiler territory. Let's just say she's absolutely terrified of him.

THE CURSE (AND HOW IT BREAKS HER)

This isn't some back-and-forth transformation. It's constant discomfort:

The body changes slowly... almost:

— Feathers grow in gradually but itch like mosquito bites. Everything itches: back, arms, even fingers.

— Her face stayed human, but her eyes - golden with black sclera like an owl's. Her gaze became piercing, alien - sometimes even she's scared by her reflection.

The world irritates but doesn't torture:

— Sunlight makes her squint

— Strong smells like smoke or rot "hit her nose"

Instincts - a quiet nightmare:

— Worst of all: her instincts see King as prey. "He's small... weak... eat him." For now she copes by freezing and distancing herself, but who knows how long that'll last.

Shame and pain:

— Remembers being a witch - strong, whole. Now her back's covered in pathetic wings (they can't even fly!), every step reminds her: "You're not human anymore."

— Wants to go back but can't: fixing the crystal means becoming helpless again. Not fixing it means King dies.

Aaaand that's the main stuff^^

Would love to hear your thoughts and opinions :>

[benz12313]

Letters From Home - Ridoc x Reader

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You get a disturbing letter from home, and you have to deal with those emotions....while being tortured for class. Luckily your friends are there with you.

Warnings: extreme violence, torture, pain seeking behavior, self-harm thoughts? (not quite sure if this counts or not), abusive/shitty parents, talk of death, friendship angst, mental health struggles, grief

Author's Note: This honestly is me getting out a fraction of my emotions recently, trying to put some things into words. Sorry if it's a bit everywhere, I'm hoping that getting some of it out on paper will help me process and get back to 'normal'. Plus I love me some sweet and protective Ridoc so it's a win-win on my end. I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,843

I stared down at the letter sitting on my desk, innocently laying, despite the hateful writing on the page. Just a mere two sentences, yet they were able to wreck me to my core.

Don’t write again. Our daughter died when she stepped foot on the parapet.

Written in Mum’s handwriting, yet unsigned. 

Tears didn’t come, I was too shocked I think. Sure, she and Dad had screamed and yelled and cursed me out of their home when I’d said that I planned on joining the Riders Quadrant but…I’d never thought that anger would stick. 

That after a year, when their daughter was finally able to write to them again…this was the reaction. 

I’d told them of how successful I’d been, how I’d manifested a useful signet, bonded my dragon, spoke about all of my friends. Talked about how close Ridoc and I had been getting lately.

It was hell at times, living here, and I yearned for the warm fireplace of home. Of mother’s freshly baked bread, and father’s horseback riding lessons. Of my younger brother’s teasing and my younger sister’s gossip sessions. Something I’d probably never experience again. 

A sob caught in my throat but I was pulled from my grief by a knock on the door. I swallowed my pain, and shoved the letter in my drawer, before pulling myself together. Careful to paint neutrality on my face before opening the door. 

Varrish. And two of the guards he usually has following him, flanking him on either side. Shit. RSC. 

“Time for class L/N.” 

~~~~~~

I sat silently with our squad as we waited for the teachers to come back. I told my friends my ‘secret’ was that I was too afraid to write to my parents. The only thing I could think of. Not really the truth, but the look Ridoc had shot me amongst our friends giving me encouraging statements told me that he could see beyond my words. Luckily Violet’s lack of a secret stole all the attention away. 

Our daughter died when she stepped foot on the parapet. 

The words echoed in my head as if she’d spoken them herself. It’s all I could think of as my friends strategized. 

It wasn’t long until I was chained up next to Ridoc, the position was supposed to be uncomfortable but my body was beautifully numb. The only good thing about doing this now; my mind was so haywire that I couldn’t feel a fucking thing. I was barely here. Barely alive. My thoughts were fucking eating me alive as they began torturing Violet. Egging on my friends, my squadmates. 

Don’t write again.

They were supposed to be my parents. They were supposed to fucking love me. Who cares which quadrant I decided to go to? They should be fucking proud. Not…what? Disappointed? Angry? …Sad? I just wanted to make a fucking difference. I wanted to help people and my damn hands are too shaky for a needle or pouring medicine. Not everyone in my family had to be a damn healer. 

When the woman’s fist meets my cheek, feeling bursts through me and for a delicious second everything feels okay. I relish in every punch. Every burst of feeling that erupted from every punch the woman rained on me. I lost count, but part of me waited for the next hit. Blood pooled in my mouth, but when she knelt down and met my gaze with a sick smile I missed the pain that was fading. Fear addled me now that my brain was starting to flicker to life again. 

“Got a secret for me sweetie?” Her tone was malicious. “It can all stop, one of your squad’s secrets, the phrase. You haven’t made a single sound since coming in this room, this must be terrifying for you. It can all end. Just speak.” Ridoc thrashed next to me, swearing and spewing angry words but I can’t distinguish them past the ringing that’s picking up in my ears. 

“Hit me.” I said, voice surprisingly calm. My friends went silent as they took me in. Really took me in. But all I did was repeat in the same tone. “Just fucking hit me.” 

“As you wish.” She did. She kept punching, until I could no longer see. Until my mind shut off completely. Until I passed out into blissful silence. 

~~~~~

A few hours later I awoke, eyes snapping open, surprisingly. Last I knew I had two swollen eyes. I looked to my side, to see Ridoc sitting on the end of my…bunk? Still the torture chamber then. His eyes met mine. Relief and fear were swimming in his eyes. They darted to the side, and there I finally saw Nolan leaning over Violet, mending her…shoulder?

I missed something. Obviously. I don’t have to ask though. 

“Varrish.” He muttered to me, and then it looked like he wanted to say something but he stopped himself. His eyes were piercing though, focused entirely on me. “You good? We lost you for a while there. Not sure if you were passed out or not, but Nolan said you had a nasty concussion when he mended you.”

“We haven’t broken?” I asked and he bit his lip, but nodded. His eyes flashed with annoyance at me brushing off his earlier words. “Good.”

Maybe I’d get punched again. 

~~~~~~

But I wasn’t, unfortunately. We escaped, mostly due to Nolan’s ‘help’. I was safe in my room, as tears pooled in my eyes. My chest ached, a void building in my soul. My family didn’t want me anymore. All because I was a fucking rider. My dragon raged in my mind, but I couldn’t hear her words, her thoughts. I was consumed by my grief, my anger, my…pain. So much mental pain. 

Tears erupted. 

I shattered. 

~~~~~

I must’ve missed class. There was banging on my door. I didn’t really care though. Beyond relieving myself and a daily shower that felt like torture…I hadn’t left my room since we’d escaped the chamber. I’d stopped crying. But only because I had no energy left. 

“Dammit Y/N!” I heard a male voice yell and then my door crashed in. Like off the fucking hinges in. 

I stared, wide-eyed and sitting up in bed, seeing Ridoc and Sawyer heaving in my doorway. Violet and Rhiannon were standing behind them, looking around their bodies to see me, giving me sheepish yet hard looks. My eyes snapped to Ridoc as he stepped forward, eyes trained directly on me as he walked to my side. 

“It’s been three days Princess.” The teasing nickname he’d given me felt like like an accusation as it left his lips. “We’ve let you rot in here. Made excuses. It ends now. Tell us what the fuck happened to you in there.”

“Desk drawer.” I sighed, my voice sounding broken and hoarse. Confusion flickered across his face but as he turned I realized Violet had already crossed the room and opened the drawer. She held the slightly crumpled paper in her hands. Anger then worry danced across her face quickly, as it often does with her, and she settled on comfort as she handed the letter to Rhi before settling her gaze on me. 

The note passed hands quickly, and when Ridoc’s eyes scanned the page his face softened completely. “Y/N-“

“I lied earlier. I’d written them weeks ago. I received this the morning of our torture lesson. Just before Varrish grabbed me.” I whispered, looking down at my lap. “My real secret was that I don’t know what to do now. I have no one.”

“That’s not true.” Ridoc’s voice sounded panicked, causing me to look up at him in shock. 

“He’s right Y/N, you still have us. You have Draka. You’re not alone.” Rhiannon assured, sitting on the side opposite where Ridoc stood, and pulling me into a grounding hug. “I can’t imagine-“

“I can.” Violet whispered, settling in next to Rhi, but letting me be consumed by her alone. “And I’m sorry they had such rigid expectations for you. It’s not easy.”

“They wanted me to be a healer.” I confided, never having shared that information before, but it felt…nice…confiding in them. “I didn’t. We fought about it and when I left…” My voice caught in my throat. “I never thought…” My throat closed, and words escaped me. Suddenly I had no clue what to do again and grief wracked through me as I involuntarily leaned into Rhi. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Sawyer said as I shook in Rhi’s arms, and I buried my head in her shoulder. 

“My thoughts won’t stop. The shame. The grief. Some anger too. And when that woman hit me…” I gulped, words caught in my throat again as I pulled back out of Rhi’s arms, backing up until I was leaning against the headboard. I suddenly felt dirty..or dark.. and I didn’t want that to spread to my friends. As if it could merely by touch. 

Ridoc sat, and looked at me, really looked at me. His chocolate eyes were dark, and stabbed right through me as he gave me a solemn look. It was like he could see into the core of my being. “You forgot it all.” He muttered, and Violet held her breath next to me, looking between the two of us and putting it together. “When you felt the pain your thoughts stopped. That’s why you asked her to keep hitting you.”

Fear stabbed through me when I saw the disappointed look on Rhi’s face. It reminded me of when I was a teen, and mom would… Pain erupted in my brain again and I fought off tears. 

I nodded in confirmation, I was unable to back out now, that much was obvious. 

“Y/N…” Sawyer’s voice was as disappointed as Rhi’s face as the tears escaped. 

“Guys don’t-“ Violet started but Ridoc’s steady voice interrupted her. 

“If you can’t be supportive get the fuck out.” Ridoc’s voice was unwavering, but his eyes were soft as they looked into my own. “Now’s not the time.”

My chest tightened. Warmth filled me with his simple sentences. But it was ripped away with Sawyer’s statement. 

“I’m not going to pretend that wanting to get beat until she was barely breathing is normal or healthy Ridoc! She goaded that woman until she couldn’t speak!” Sawyer seethed, glaring between the two of us. My heart stopped. Nobody had told me it had gotten that bad. Fuck, I don’t remember most of it do I? How much memory had I lost?! “If you hadn’t broken your fingers to get free and stop that bitch Y/N probably would be dead! It’s bad enough that it happened, but to know she wanted it is fucked Ridoc! We almost watched her die!”

Ridoc jumped to his feet, looking between my shocked and tear-streaked face and Sawyer’s angry and…terror filled one. I’d scared them. Badly. I cried harder. Ridoc turned to say something to Sawyer, his fist curled beside him and shaking, like he wanted to deck his best friend. All I could do was curl into myself further, shame pulling at me. Sawyer was right. 

“Enough!” Violet’s voice booming shocked us all, four heads turning to hers at once. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction to grief-“

“You can’t seriously-“ Sawyer started. 

“I am serious! How would you feel if after a fucking year of risking your life daily your parents sent you that? Huh?” She narrowed a glare on him but he shut up. “And then immediately after you get tortured? The pain feels like a gift when everything else feels impossible. It reminds you that you’re alive. She’s alive. That’s all that matters right now.” She turned her head to me, eyes softening as well as her tone. “You’re alive Y/N. I don’t care what that letter says. You are alive and they will be reminded of that every day until they get word of your death. Nothing will change that. You are worthy of living, no matter what choice you made. Their opinions of you don’t matter, because they chose for you not to matter to them. And that says a lot more about them than it does you.” 

Tears fell in rivers, my vision blurring until all I could see was the shapes of their bodies. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, before pulling up my knees and hiding my body in them, arms wrapping around my body as I curled in as far as I could go. “I’m sorry.”

Ridoc broke his fingers to help me. I terrified them with my selfish emotions. 

“Just a selfish little brat! I swear Y/N if you walk onto that parapet you will be a disgrace to your lineage. You have siblings to be an example for. Are you gonna teach them to be selfish too?! All because you have delusions of heroism.” Father’s voice rained down on me as I packed my bag to leave for conscription day. “So fucking selfish! No daughter of mine will ever be a rider! You’d never make it over the parapet and even if you did, you’d never bond a dragon. You’d die before you ever got the chance!”

Selfish.

Selfish.

Selfish. 

Selfish. 

The word kept echoing in my head. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. I couldn’t see anything, not through the tears. I couldn’t hear anything beyond my sobs and gasping breaths. And suddenly the world felt like it was falling and I flailed, panic consuming me. 

“Shhh. I’ve got you.” Was that…Ridoc? Other voices rang out but I couldn’t distinguish them anymore. I only could hear his because the rumbling of his chest helped me hear the words as I stilled in his arms. “I’m taking her to my room. We kinda broke hers, and honestly, Sawyer’s still pissing me off right now with his bullshit.” Had I lost time again? “I’ll make sure she eats and gets taken care of. Tell leadership she’s still sick. That I caught it too. I’m keeping her for the rest of the day.” He was moving now, walking. 

I was still sobbing, but luckily his room wasn’t far, and I felt my body dip into the mattress as he set me down on his bed. 

I laid there, as Ridoc tucked me under the covers, before he bustled around the room for a minute as my sobs died down. Guilt wracked through me. He’d broken his fingers because I’d goaded that woman. Fuck, I’d goaded that woman into hurting me. Had I lost my mind after those first few punches? Had the concussion knocked the sense out of me completely?

I was dragged out of my thoughts by Ridoc climbing under the covers next to me, so we were face to face. He smoothed my hair a bit before his hand rested on my neck, his rough fingers rubbing along my jaw comfortingly. He scooted closer, until we were nearly touching. “Y/N, I’m sorry Sawyer was an ass.”

“He’s right.” I choked out and Ridoc’s soft gaze hardened a tad, his face going deathly serious. 

“No. Plenty of people turn to pain to get through emotions. Sure, there are better ways. But those weren’t available to you then. You did what you could.” He affirmed, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry your parents are shitbags, and don’t understand just how badass their kid is.”

“I thought they were just scared.” I admitted quietly. “I never thought they’d actually hate me for it. They aren’t bad people. This is the first time they’ve ever…”

“Ever been awful parents?” He supplied after I’d trailed off. I nodded. “Maybe they just never saw you as your own person. But you are, and you proved that by becoming a rider. By doing what felt right to you.”

“Thanks Ridoc.” I whispered, not quite believing his words. It was something to think about later though. “You’re the best.” 

“I’ve been told.” He winked before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making me snort. He smiled at my reaction, still rubbing my jaw comfortingly. Honestly it was starting to put me to sleep. “And hey, next time you get this feeling, because I know you and I know this isn’t close to being fixed.” He flashed me a knowing grin that made me let out a sheepish smile. “Next time, come to me. I’ll help you get that feeling without you getting actually hurt. There are other ways to work through it. Better, more constructive and enjoyable ways.”

“Okay.” I yawned out, snuggling into his chest. 

“I mean it Princess. I’ve got you. Promise me you’ll find me next time.” He said as he wrapped his arms around me. His scent surrounded me, lulling me towards sleep even more as my body fully relaxed. 

“I promise Ridoc.” I sighed, and he pulled me close. 

“Good, now rest. Real honest rest.” He said, and I did just that, as I listened to the steady beating of his heart. 

~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.

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[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | seven.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 7.8k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, just hella cute moments between these two 😭, lots of kisses, dancing, alcohol consumption and intoxication, making out lol, good vibes and good company, feelings are deep af so we get a glimpse as to how they're both feeling about the future of their relationship, yunho is hella sweet bro fAWK, we also get a glimpse of seonghwa’s ‘afraid of commitment’ headass

When you get into the office, there's a brand new desktop setup waiting for you, along with a cup of coffee, the shop's new sticker for the week and a tiny bouquet. You slowly set your stuff down and smile to yourself, picking up the post-it on top of the coffee cup.

i had to create a temporary password to set up your account on this comp - it's 'yunhoisthebest01' 😊 feel free to change it when you log in (or not)! have a good day today, pretty.  - yunho

You nibble on your bottom lip, afraid someone will catch you smiling too big at the note. Since your date with Yunho, all your time has been occupied by him in one way or another. It was lunch. Small walks. Breaks to grab snacks together. Quick dinner dates. It was either texting all day in between running errands and other obligations, responding to each other through Instagram stories or even late night calls.

⇢FLASHBACK

yunho: are you awake?

you: sure am!

yunho: oh snap, what? lol catching miss pretty during the late night hours?

you: haha stoppp i'm not tired yet!

yunho: can i call you then?

You quickly finish up your night time routine and throw yourself in bed, getting ready to look presentable even though Yunho isn't physically here.

you: yes ofc!

It doesn't take long before Yunho's ringing your phone, the heat creeping up to your cheeks when you settle in bed and hear his deep voice on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Hey cutie. Did you just get in bed?"

"Just about, yup. What about you?"

"Yeah. Seora and I just wrapped up our show for tonight."

"Cute. Is she asleep already?"

"Seora? God, no. She's actually on the phone with her friends right now, too. They're hehe-haha'ing away as we speak." Yunho listens to his daughter's voice raise on the phone before laughing loudly. He typically doesn't mind but when it gets too late for his liking, that's when he'll get into father mode and knock on her door.

"That's so cute. Love that for the girlies."

"Yeah well, if she keeps it up, I'm gonna have to tell her to get off and sleep."

"Yunho." You giggle. "It's the weekend. I'm sure they won't be on for long. Besides, at least I can keep you occupied in the meantime."

"Yeah?" Yunho chuckles. "How are you gonna keep me occupied, hm?" His voice is low. You can tell he's wearing that smirk he always wears, and you can't help but bite your lip at the image in your head.

"Yapping your head off." He laughs.

"I like that." He adjusts his position on the bed, sheets rustling in the background. "What'd you do today, pretty girl? We didn't get to talk much."

"I know, I'm sorry. I ran some errands and met up with Sian really quickly. Came home, deep cleaned my apartment and changed my sheets. Was apparently exhausted at one point and fell asleep while watching my show. Then, I realized it was dinner! So I whipped something up, rewatched the episodes I missed and now I'm here."

"Busy bee. Sounds productive, though."

"Yeah, been needing to get these done. What about you?"

"She had a game again, but we ended up hanging out with some of her friends and their parents afterward. It was a later game so we weren't up too early."

"Did she win?"

"Mhm. I think they might make the playoffs this year, they've been doing really well."

"That's amazing."

"You should watch her play one day."

"Of course." You chuckle a bit.

"Would you think I'm weird if I said I kinda miss you?"

"No, never. I kinda miss you, too. But, you'll see me at work next week." You smile to yourself as you softly respond.

"I don't wanna see you just at work, though."

"Then, what do you wanna do, Yunho? You know I'm always down to go out."

"Wish I could have you here, is all."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." You mean it. You really do. You know the feeling all too well, but you know the circumstances are different. It's not easy. And it's something you and Yunho will have to confront at some point— should this continue going the way it is.

Cause you like him. A lot. The feelings are mutual.

"I'll make it happen."

"Will you?"

"Mhm." 

"That determined, hm?" You tease.

"I am. You know I don't do this unless I'm serious about you."

"So, are you saying you're serious about me?"

"And if I am?" Yunho chuckles a bit.

"Yunho." You whine playfully.

"You smiling, baby?" His voice is low, husky, and it immediately does things to you.

"I'm hanging up on you."

"No, don't." He laughs. "I don't take it back, though."

"Good, I was hoping you wouldn't." He smiles and bites his lip, his need for you growing at a tremendously fast rate and it is scary. But, he enjoys it. He enjoys you.

"You're cute."

⇢END

"Y/N, shut up." Noeul says as she trails in, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her. "He did not."

"Yeah, he did."

"He's so fucking sweet. You better give him all that ass and more."

"Okay, Noeul. It's so early." You laugh.

"Is he coming tomorrow?"

"I dunno, he said he was gonna try to swing by if he could. Depending on whether or not Seora would sleepover at her bestfriend's house and if his friends wanted to go."

"I hope so. I'd love to see you two in action even though I already get glimpses of it." You let out a content breath.

"We'll see." You sit and look up at her. "Anyway, are we still on to get our nails done after work?"

"Mhm. Sian said she's gonna have to skip because she promised she'd take her niece out while she's sleeping over at her parents' house."

"Yeah, she should spend time with her. It's been a minute since they've had some quality time."

"We have all weekend with you, though."

"Woo!" You cheer, making her laugh.

"Are you seeing Yunho at some point today?"

"Mm, gonna see if he can grab lunch or something."

"So cute." She giggles. "Full day today?"

"Not too bad, but we'll see if anything pressing comes up during the day."

"Yeah, same. Well let me know if you wanna take a quick walk later. Just text me." You nod. "Have a good day. See you later, babe." You wave her off before returning your attention to your phone and pulling up Yunho's text thread.

you: thank you, yunho. 🥰

yunho: course, cutie. you can finally work productively now!

you: love that for me. hahaha

you: free for lunch later?

yunho: always. i'll come get you around 12:15pm or so.

you: okeeee ☺️ 

You start working away on your new desktop, following up on a lot of pending items before answering new emails coming in. You've hopped in a few 30-min meetings throughout the hours, exchanging updates on the wider progress of the new clinical department already on its way in the main hospital, along with the pediatric end. You've got a few new things to check on, along with new groups to work with to make sure things continue moving. But, for the first time in awhile these past weeks, you feel like you can take a breath of fresh air. Most of the complicated, loose ends have been closed off, and the rest is just figuring out little details— where certain furniture is going, how a typical set up would be, what color blinds they'd like in the department.

The more fun, creative tasks.

Yunho is included in one of the meetings and it's crazy how giddy you feel the moment you see him. This doesn't even have anything to do with you and him, but you love the way he carries himself. You love the way he talks, you love the way he presents and answers questions so confidently. His energy is so undefeated and you can't even begin to understand how someone like him has feelings for someone like you.

You just feel lucky, and you aren't even official. Was that too much?

It's something about him, real talk.

When it gets close to lunch, you're checking off things on your list— giving you to a nice moment to sit back and scroll through social media mindlessly. 

"Hey." Yunho's tall figure pops into your cubicle and sits onto the free chair nearby. "I see you're putting this to good use." He points at your split screen on the desktop— one for your calendar on the browser, one for emails.

"Very much so. Thank you for this. I thought I was gonna have to wait a bit longer. I know provisioning is crazy busy right now."

"Not if I'm around." You laugh. 

"Well, thank you. Life saver."

"You're welcome." He leans forward and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, hidden well in your cubicle. "Ready to eat?"

"Yes, I'm hungry." You stand and begin to follow him out. "By the way, you did great during the meeting, Yu."

"You think so? I winged the fuck out of it." You playfully push him while he laughs.

"So, was it bullshit?!"

"I mean, not necessarily! Whatever I said will work, I just haven't tried it in this case in particular."

"Jeong Yunho."

"That's my name." He swings his arm around you and kisses your temple. "Nah, don't sweat. I always find ways to make it work." He turns to you as you both walk out of the elevator. "So.. I was thinking. If you aren't too swamped today, maybe we can get lunch off campus." Which, isn't unusual coming from Yunho. You and him have gone off campus to grab lunch together. But, that also means you get Yunho alone for a bit and you can already feel the butterflies building in your stomach. Not that you didn't enjoy people's company whenever they joined you two for lunch— it just feels nice to have your time with him, too.

"Yeah, I'm down. It's pretty light for a Friday."

"Good." He slips his hand into yours, leading you to his car in the main staff garage. 

"Yunho, are you sure it's okay?"

"Mhm. Our new hires are starting to get more hands-on with Taehyun and Jihoon. They're actually really good about jumping in and taking initiative."

"Oh, nice! That's great to hear they're doing well."

"Yup! Works out perfectly." He swings your door open and lets you get settled in before sliding into the driver's seat. The conversation immediately picks back up to the meeting you both were in today, Yunho asking about your progress and what else you needed to get done now that the foundation was pretty much solidified. The entire time, Yunho has his free hand in yours— pressing sweet kisses to the top in between conversation at the red lights. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks every single time, shying away when he teases you about it in his usual Yunho manner.

The both of you decide on grabbing sushi from a popular, affordable mom & pop shop near the hospitals. Yunho finds a spot and asks for your specifics before walking in to place an order. It takes about 15 minutes before Yunho is walking back to the car with a full container and a smaller one on top in a plastic bag, setting it gently on your lap before he drives over to a nearby walking trail near a lake that you two can eat and relax for a bit at.

"You excited for your birthday?" Yunho asks as you both dig in and begin to eat, watching the geese flock at the lake in front of you. 

"Mm, I dunno. The age is a little too serious for my liking but we'll see."

"Are you trying to say I'm a fossil? Pre-historic?" You laugh loudly and shake your head.

"No, of course not!"

"You're only a year younger than me." Yunho chuckles. "Still young, still thriving, as Seora says."

"She's so cute. I like her thinking."

"Are you really not excited?"

"I am. I just.. I hope you can come. But, like, I know it's hard so no pressure—" You start to stumble over your words and Yunho smiles at you.

"Just know that I'll always try, okay? I'm sure it'll work out, and then we can celebrate you together."

"It'd be fun."

"When's the last time you've gone out like this?" You shrug.

"Awhile. We've definitely gone to bars with coworkers and do the whole happy hour thing, but it's been a long time since I've gone out to the club and celebrated this way."

"Your brother and his friends are coming along?" You nod.

"Yup! And a few more people from work that we're all close to."

"See, it'll be a fun time regardless."

"Yeah. I guess I am excited. I haven't gone out with my brother like this in awhile either."

"When you guys go on vacation, do you explore and do things together or stay put at the hotel?"

"We always explore. Always." You chuckle.

"A fun duo."

"We try to be." 

"What else are you doing for your birthday, pretty girl?"

"Mm. Sian and Noeul are coming over right at midnight." You laugh. "Then, I think they planned a few things. They didn't give me any specifics but they said brunch and a spa date thingy."

"Cute."

"Me and Noeul are getting our nails done after work."

"Sian isn't coming?"

"Her niece is staying at her parents' house for the weekend so she wants to go spend some time with her while she can."

"Ah, I see. Makes sense." Yunho takes a sip of his water. "Seora would've loved to tag along even if she wasn't able to do anything."

"Aw. Well, I can take her along with me one day." Yunho silently nods with a tiny smile etched on the corner of his lips. He'd love that, and he can already see how well you two would get along.

It's just the fact of how long it'll take to get there.

Kinda makes him sad, but Seora deserves everything and he is always gonna put her first. He knows it won't be easy, and he knows she won't put down her walls immediately. In fact, he knows she'll have a hard time with this and she'll have a hard time with you.

He's so conflicted on what to do. He obviously doesn't wanna lose you and let all of this go. It's been ages since he felt this way and for the first time in a long time, he can genuinely and truly say his feelings run deep for you. He feels comfortable and he feels safe, despite the fears still lingering in the back of his mind. He can't let this go.

He knows life is short and he'll probably never come across something like this again.

But, Seora.

Oh, he hopes she'll understand. He swallows the anxiety that's slowly building every time he thinks about it— afraid to ruin your lunch or even your birthday. He'll continue to go with the flow and keep you happy, and he'll face it when the time comes.

Which, is probably soon with how quick he's falling for you.

"Mm, yeah." Is all he manages to respond with, also feeling stuffed from lunch as you both sit back and enjoy the peace while basking in the sun. Yunho has his arm draped against the back of the bench while you scoot closer and remove the trash from in between. The stillness, the quiet, is nice. You like being able to do this with Yunho.

You are comfortable, and you are safe.

You don't have to do much with him and he still manages to make you feel lucky. To make you feel wanted.

"Thank you again for saving my butt with the desktop." He chuckles.

"Yeah, of course."

"When did you even set it up?"

"This morning."

"You made Seora get up early just to fix my computer?"

"She didn't mind. Her bestfriend is always at school early anyway because her parents have pretty strict early shifts."

"Mm." I hum. "Okay, fair enough."

"C'mere." He looks down at you with a smile. His hand comes down to lift your chin up, kissing you on the lips with nothing but a sweet gentleness behind his actions. Yunho has been nothing short of gentle with you— sharing sweet, tiny moments like this. Nothing more, nothing less.

He doesn't expect anything out of it. Doesn't rush or force you, even though the need for him is slowly growing day by day; the more you spend time with him.

But, it's all in the motions. All in time. This pace works for you two.

You smile against his lips, pressing another few repeated kisses on him before you're walking back to the car hand in hand— ready to tackle the rest of the day before you're off for pre-birthday festivities with one of your bestfriends.

Once the clock hit midnight, you heard a knock on your door before footsteps rushed down the front steps of your apartment complex. You peeked through the peephole, only able to catch an unfamiliar car driving off. Your focus quickly strayed when you noticed the huge flower bouquet and balloons on your doorstep. You gasped to yourself, slowly swinging your door open before taking in the sight of it all. You dragged the balloons in gently, making sure none of them popped as you relocated them safely inside of your apartment. You placed the huge bouquet into a vase before grabbing the small card wedged in between two baby pink roses:

happy birthday, beautiful. - yunho

You snapped a photo and sent it to Yunho with a crying emoji, barely able to send a follow up message before your loud ass bestfriends barged through your door with confetti and all sorts of celebratory items in hand.

Now, you were exhausted and waking up close to noon because of all the drinking and late night talks that happened last night. When Noeul and Sian saw the balloons and the flowers, they wouldn't let the conversation about Yunho go even if your eyes were closing more and more by the second. 

"Birthday girl is awake!" Sian says at your kitchen, already preparing coffee.

"Barely." You sit up and dig your head into your hands. "My head kinda hurts."

"Your birthday barely started, there's more where that came from."

"Please. You guys did so much planning for the club tonight, I need to at least make it inside." Noeul laughs next to you.

"You haven't heard from Yunho yet about tonight?"

"No." You sigh. "But either way, we'll enjoy whether or not they come. He's not obligated to show up and he shouldn't force it if he can't."

"You're right. I'm still praying and crossing my fingers, though." Noeul says before getting up. "Come on, get up. We're gonna enjoy this coffee prepared by yours truly—" She turns to Sian for a quick moment. "Before we take you out for a full day of birthday goodness and see your family for brunch!"

"Then, we get back in time to get ready for tonight's festivities!" Sian adds, making you shake your head as Noeul literally drags you out of bed to throw you in the shower.

Meanwhile, Yunho is at some café downtown after dropping off Seora at Chan-mi's house. He's poking at his food while Mingi and Seonghwa argue in front of him, completely unaware of what said argument is even about.

"Aye, tell him he's wrong." Mingi hits him on the chest, pulling Yunho out of his thoughts.

"About what?"

"He wasn't even listening." Seonghwa cuts eyes at Yunho before sliding in his seat even more.

"Sorry, I'm just—"

"Thinking about Y/N? We know."

"No— well, yeah, but no." Yunho sighs and looks at his friends. "What the fuck do I even wear? I haven't gone out like this in so long, I can't even remember."

"You mean, you haven't gone out for someone you really like in so long?"

"Yeah, that."

"Let's head to the mall really quickly after this." Seonghwa adds. "You can still look good for your girl without doing too much."

"You're right for once." Seonghwa kicks Mingi's foot under the table, causing him to groan.

"I'm always right, you fucking prick."

"That's why I'm the favorite uncle. Cause you're always so grumpy. Besides, who the fuck accidentally spills the beans about his date?"

"It just slipped! I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, the hell." Yunho laughs. "You're lucky she didn't bring it up again after that." Yunho takes the last bite of his food before he throws in a crumpled napkin and sits back. "Ready to head to the mall? Do you guys have something to wear or are you buying stuff, too?"

"I'm gonna grab some things."

"Same." The three stand and gather their trash before heading out to the mall. Yunho had picked up Seonghwa and Mingi in exchange for Seora's presence, the two planning to stay the night post-club festivities. Mingi decided he'd be the designated driver tonight with Yunho's car, only coming for the vibes and to support his bestfriend. On the other hand, Yoori wasn't too happy to know Seonghwa wouldn't be getting his time tonight, but he had been spending a lot of time with her lately that he felt the need to give himself some space.

Some me time.

And he's not gonna lie, he's pretty excited for it. So is Mingi, so is Yunho.

The three walk around their favorite stores, grabbing a few key pieces they can throw into their closet rotation. Tonight, Yunho's gonna wear something simple, but enough to [hopefully] keep your attention. He's planning on a black button up and slacks, while Mingi is deciding to throw on a white tee and some slacks. Seonghwa bought a new leather jacket to go with his black top and black jeans. They don't spend too much time at the mall— the three quickly satisfied and calling it a day early on so they can chill until tonight.

Yunho just realized he never told you if he was going or not.

But, he also realizes he can take this and run with it. Surprise you, be with you all night.

He's fucking excited.

For him, the day feels excruciatingly long and stretched out, but for you, the day moves too fast for your liking. The first stop is a popular Thai eatery that is booked for months on end for brunch. When you walk in, your parents, Wonwoo and a few other good friends from work are already sitting at a long table near the back, happily greeting you with their birthday wishes when you approach the table. You automatically feel complete seeing the people you love the most all in one place, eating away at all the delicious food your group ordered while sipping on mimosas. The restaurant has a 2-hr limit due to its popularity, so by the time 2-hrs is up, you're full, you're content, you're ready to walk it off. Your parents smother you in kisses before handing you an envelope with some birthday money, waving goodbye as your brother whisks them away and takes them back home. Wonwoo gives you a quick hug before he's reminding you him and his friends will be over at your place to pre-game for tonight, causing you to nod and shoo him away in return.

You were starting to get excited.

But, Noeul and Sian take you to the next stop: a spa. The three of you indulge in a 90-min hot stone massage— something you truly needed from these grueling weeks at work. As you lay on the table while your massage is on the way, your thoughts hover to Yunho and how much you miss him. He hadn't sent many messages today, and you know he's only doing it to let you enjoy your day with the girls. But, you wish he was here. Or, that he's around.

Or, that you'd see him tonight.

You really hope the universe would align on this one with you. 

All in all, post-massage you feel relaxed. Cool, calm and collected. You, Noeul and Sian grab takeout to eat at the ease of your home— excited to sit around and take a little break before your brother and all your other friends, his friends, come over before the club.

The pre-party before the party.

Time really does fly when you're genuinely enjoying yourself. So much that it's hard to grasp just how fast it's been going.

You slip into your black dress and start working on your hair and makeup with Sian and Noeul. Your other friends trickle in one by one, touching up their hair and makeup while blasting music. Sooner or later, there's loud talking and footsteps hurrying up the stairs to your unit— a familiar voice coming through on the opposite side of the door:

"Yo!" Wonwoo yells, pounding on your door. You hurry to the door and let your brother and his friends in, all of them loudly greeting you and your friends as they come in and fill your space. "Let's get this going so we can head out!"

"Line up the shots!" Soonyoung yells. "Birthday girl, I'm connecting my phone to your speakers!" You nod and give him the thumbs up, doing the final touches to your makeup before heading to the kitchen and whipping out the alcohol for the pre-game session. You bounce along to the music while everyone hypes themselves up for the night, checking your phone for any new texts from Yunho.

There hadn't been any since you responded to him earlier in the day, and it makes you feel a little sad.

Maybe he was busy? Maybe he wanted you to be present on your birthday?

You would've really enjoyed with him around.

Guess the universe wasn't aligning for this one.

"Why are you all quiet? Is your man not coming tonight?" Wonwoo's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your brother leans back against the counter as you pop open the Don Julio and start pouring the shots quietly. 

"He's not my man." You shrug. "And I don't know. He never said anything after he said he'd try and I don't wanna ask or make him feel guilty about it."

"Not your man, yet." He teases. "He's probably coming. It's all a part of the surprise."

"Don't get my hopes up, Wonu." Your brother pinches your cheek.

"Simp."

"You're annoying." You shove a shot in his face. "Here. Start passing them out." Wonwoo does as he's told like the good brother he is, calling everyone to start gathering around with their shots. Once you've poured enough, Wonwoo leads the whole birthday speech nonsense before you're all taking the shots straight— many faces being made [groans being let out] at the taste and burn of tequila.

One turns to two.

Two turns to four.

Four turns to you're tipsy as hell.

You leave your studio as is when its time to head out the club, squishing in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with Noeul and Sian. Wonwoo's friend, Seokmin, takes the front seat, helping your brother keep the last bit of sanity he has left with his company during the drive over.

"You guys ready?" Wonwoo looks at the rearview mirror, watching as you and the girls drunkly respond and yell in excitement. He looks at Seokmin in the front seat, laughing while he hears the chaos echo from the back to the front. It's late in the evening, so the roads aren't as packed anymore. This makes the drive over to the club only about 25 minutes long down South. 

It's a fuckin' breeze when you're tipsy and having fun with your bestfriends in the backseat of your brother's nice ass car.

When you arrive and reunite with the other half of the group, you walk to the club together and skip through the tremendously long line down the block. You head straight to the VIP table everyone chipped in for, giving you a good corner of the club to claim as your own.

"Let's go!" Seokmin yells, leading the guys over to the bar to start ordering on everyone's behalf. The night is already off to an incredibly strong start with more shots to take— all your friends living life on the edge by chasing with cocktails.

It feels good to let loose. 

You haven't in a long time.

You begin to dance and have fun with the group, almost completely forgetting Yunho's absence until:

"Bitch, excuse me!" Sian rushes over to you after visiting the bar. "He's here! With his friends!" 

"What?" You squint and lean towards Sian's ear, unable to hear her properly.

"Yunho! He's here with his friends!" She points towards the door, finding the three walking in as they search the crowd for you and the group. 

"See! I knew he wouldn't miss out!" Noeul adds. You smile, waving Yunho over when he finally locks eyes with you in the sea of people, the excitement running through your veins.

He's here.

"You made it!" You say to him as he comes face to face. He chuckles and pulls you into a nice, big hug— his cologne filling your senses when he holds you tight. 

"Course I did. You think I'd miss this?"

"Well, I dunno. Seora?"

"She would never miss an opportunity to sleep over at her bestfriend's house." You look at him, his hands still around your waist. "I wouldn't miss an opportunity to be with you, either."

"Stop." He shakes his head while he watches you shy away.

"Happy birthday, baby." He says in your ear before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. Seonghwa greets you next, pulling you into a hug before greeting your friends. Mingi comes after, also pulling you into a hug even though you hadn't formally met until tonight.

"So, we finally meet!" He says while laughing.

"I know, it's so good to see you! I'm glad you guys made it out!"

"Of course, why not? Plus, we're celebrating you. It's a good reason to be out and having fun." You smile at him before pulling them over to the group sitting at a nearby table. Yunho and your brother have already greeted each other, and now, he's making his rounds for meet and greets with everyone else. 

"Take a shot with us?" Yunho comes back to you after he's done mingling and saying his hello's. "On me." You nod. He takes your hand as Seonghwa and Mingi lead the way to the bar, Yunho guiding you from behind as he tightly laces his fingers with yours. Seonghwa orders more shots, asking you what your preference is.

"I'm only gonna taking this one for you though because I'm driving."

"More than enough for me." You smile at Mingi, grabbing your glass while the other three wait for theirs. The moment their hands are full, you clink your glass against theirs, cheering loudly before you take the shot down the neck— the tequila burning the column of your throat as it travels down. "I don't know how much more I have left in me." You wince at the taste, making Yunho chuckle.

"I just got here. We've gotta keep going." He squeezes your hand.

"By the way, glad your bouquet and balloons made it inside safely." Seonghwa smiles.

"Wait, you dropped it off for him?"

"Sure did! I was on my way home, anyway."

"Thank you." You look at the both of them before the bartender slides down three more shots for you, Seonghwa and Yunho, claiming it was on the house for your birthday.

Once you've taken the shot and sipped on a cocktail to wash away the after taste, you've gotten yourself to a really good level with the alcohol and you don't think you wanna push yourself any further. The DJ starts hitting a good point of his set— you and your group bouncing and dancing along to the music. The entire time, though, you find yourself clinging to Yunho the more you feel the alcohol seeping in.

The more the world spins.

And he enjoys that.

"You okay?" He asks, his arm coming around you.

"Yeah. I'm just happy you're here." He smiles.

"I am, too." He kisses your forehead again. It all starts off cute— with Yunho grabbing you by the hand so you could both sing or rap along to the songs with each other. From time to time, he switches it up; hugging you from behind and swaying along to the beat. Other times, he's got you pressed up against him; hands gently digging into your hips as you work your ass on him. At one point, he's found himself backed up against the wall, watching intently as you dance on him. He's guiding your movements to the beat, keeping up as you continue. Every time you press your back against him, he leaves a kiss on your neck, hands threatening to roam up your chest and give it a good squeeze.

But, he has to remind himself that he's in public.

That this is all the alcohol getting to him and making him act on his thoughts.

That he's gotta do right by you. 

Just.. fuck. It doesn't make it any easier when he gets front row seats to a perfect view of your outfit and everything else about you. He can't help but continue to eye the way your tight, black one-shoulder longsleeve dress falls right below the curve of your ass and the way those strappy heels wrap around your ankles. Yunho keeps thinking about how sexy you look right now, and how much of a goddamn goddess you are.

The way you work him so well.

Your perfume.

Your pretty nail polish.

The way your energy is a match-made in heaven with his.

It's such a turn on.

Especially when the song finishes and you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck lazily while you plant repeated kisses to his lips. One second, he's enjoying the cute intimacy. You've managed to stray a bit from the group, making Yunho feel like he can finally focus on you and you only. His hands are still placed on your hips while you tease away— pecking him sweetly.

The next second, your lips are crashing onto his in a more intense, heated manner; arms still wrapped around his neck while his large hands are now resting on the small of your back to keep you close. He might be drunk, and you might be drunk— the surroundings might not mean shit and this might not make sense at the moment, but what you do know is that it feels like pure bliss to be kissing Yunho. To have him like this.

And he feels the same.

Which is why his hands pull you flush against his body, deepening the moment with every second that passes. His tongue lines your lower lip as a way of asking for permission, smirking into kiss when you push forward and kiss him more eagerly. 

With hunger, an edge with desire.

Right now, you two probably look like a bunch of high schoolers just making out at a party cause it's the thing to do. But to you, to Yunho, the outside world and the extra noise doesn't fucking matter.

It's just you and him.

"You're so fucking pretty." He breaks the kiss briefly to say in your ear. "Prettiest birthday girl I've ever seen." He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses below your ear and right down your neck.

"Yunho." The way you softly moan his name is driving him crazy, he can't help but lower his lips down to your neck— leaving a trail of kisses and soft nips against your skin.

"Wish I could take you back with me tonight."

"You could." You bite your lip when you meet his eyes. He cups your cheek and rubs the surface.

"Gotta do this right, love." He places a kiss to your cheek before slipping his hand back in yours. "Wanna head back to the group? We kinda moved pretty far." You laugh and nod.

"Yeah. It was nice to have the alone time, though."

"No lie about that." He follows behind as you lead the way through the crowd, getting back to your brother and all your friends. Your brother and his rowdy ass friends are all loudly singing along, a couple of new faces joining your group to dance along with them. Yunho plops onto the free space next to Mingi on the couch, while Wonwoo comes around to hand you another drink.

"Drink up, sis. The night is young and so are you." You laugh, taking the glass from his hand. "I see you're enjoying yourself." Wonwoo's cheeks are flushed red and he's smirking, throwing an arm around you to speak clearly in your ear. "Just make sure he takes good care of you, okay?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Just feels kinda complicated."

"Why?"

"Seora. Mom." Is all you say. Because yeah, you don't know how Seora or your mom would feel and you'd hate to make them upset. Wonwoo shakes his head and leans forward again.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll all work out. It'll all play out the way it should." He looks at you. "Let's not worry about that right now, hm? It's your birthday. Keep enjoying yourself." You laugh.

"Thanks, Wonu." Your brother ruffles your hair and begins to dance, causing everyone around you to join in and hype you up. While you're busy with the girls, Wonwoo plops next to Yunho in the free space, sipping on some water while people-watching.

"Thanks for making it out tonight. You made her really happy." He says, turning to Yunho with a smirk. "She was all sad and quiet because she hadn't heard from you today." Yunho laughs.

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Please take care of her and be good to her, alright? Just doing my brotherly duties."

"Course. You have my word." Wonwoo nods before giving his shoulder a squeeze and standing to join his friends again. It isn't long before you find yourself getting tired from all the dancing— plopping onto Yunho's lap when he signals for you to do so. He has his arms wrapped around you while the both of you begin to laugh and flirt around with each other, Mingi and Sian in deep, drunk conversation next to you.

"Where's Noeul?" You gently nudge Sian.

"Girl, I haven't seen her in a minute. Probably out at sea trying to find a man for the night." Sian laughs before returning her attention to Mingi, and now, one of Wonwoo's other friends who has joined the conversation. You continue to look out at the crowd, hoping you can spot Noeul just to make sure she's okay. And, it only takes you about a few seconds before you find a familiar figure.

But, you were not prepared to see her up on Seonghwa like that. Director Yoori's Seonghwa.

"Oh shit." You say, causing Yunho to furrow his brows at you. He squeezes your thigh, making you shift your attention back to him momentarily. 

"What's wrong?"

"Noeul." You nod towards her and Seonghwa. Initially, she was dancing on him and it looked pretty harmless. All for fun. Until her hand starts to snake up to his neck while he holds her close. She's dancing against him, their hips moving in synchronized movements; in harmony. 

"Oh." Yunho says. "Oh shit." He repeats after you when Noeul walks away, but Seonghwa is quick to pull her back in his arms. This time, she's facing him. He's talking in her ear and she's giggling. Then, she's making the first move and kissing him.

He takes it.

"Uh." Mingi leans forward to catch Yunho's eyes and all they can do is laugh it off, shake their heads. But, yeah. Seonghwa's fucked.

"Okay, atta girl!" Sian yells, cheering them on. Sian is obviously more carefree, goes with the flow. Doesn't think much about any repercussions. Doesn't really care much for them overall. She is good at hyping you up, at being a wing woman, at helping you remember who the fuck you are; but, she could also mean trouble.

There is no grey area, it is either black and white with her.

"Are Seonghwa and Yoori official?" You ask Yunho and he shakes his head.

"No."

"Mm." You hum.

"See, then it's a free for all! It's all for the fun of it!" You all shift your attention back to the two, still handsy with each other. Still playfully locking lips before Noeul pulls back and leads him to the group. She avoids eye contact even though she's subtly nibbling on her lip and blushing, Seonghwa instantly pulling her down on his lap.

Yeah, this was gonna be some shit later on.

But, you guess you can worry about that later. It was still your birthday, and quite frankly, all the fucks you could give were temporarily out the window for the day.

The awkward tension settles and everyone is back to minding their own business and having fun. The bottle girls come over to greet you one more 'happy birthday' with the group, giving you energy to party it out for the last two hours of the night. When everything comes to an end, your feet are hurting, your calves are on fire, and you're reaching the sleepy level of drunk.

But, your heart is full and you're ending your birthday happily having spent it with your loved ones. With Yunho. 

"Aye, Y/N! Noeul, Sian! Rally up, ladies!" Your brother says, calling for you and your friends while him and Seokmin stand near the front of the club. Yunho, Seonghwa and Mingi guide you through the crowd, the rest of your friends and Wonwoo's friends already out the door and off to satisfy their drunchies while waving their goodbyes. "Y/N, Sian, Noeul! Roll call!"

"I'm here! Stop yelling!" You yell at Wonwoo, making him and Seokmin laugh while they wait off to the side. "Sure I can't go home with you?" You drunkly pout up at Yunho and he laughs.

"Soon, baby. Plus, you've got the girls and I got them." He quickly looks at the two behind him before turning back to you. "Hope you had fun."

"I did. Thank you guys for coming." You tippy-toe and kiss him on the lips. He continues with repeated soft, sweet kisses to your lips before your brother does another roll-call:

"Yo, for real? In front of me? Come on, now." Yunho laughs a bit and apologizes before kissing you one last time and letting your hand slip from his. Yeah, he hates having to leave you.

"All up in my business for what?!" You playfully push your brother as the five of you make your way to the car. Once everyone is settled, your brother offers to drive to the nearest McDonalds to cure your drunchies. When Wonwoo drops you and the girls off at home, you make an immediate bee-line to the bathroom and take a quick shower before throwing on your pajamas and getting the living room area ready for Noeul and Sian. As soon as everyone is done showering and finally relaxing, the three of you relive the night— making sure to press on Noeul about Seonghwa. She's clearly still drunk and out of it, brushing it off as if it were something that just happened in passing.

But, you know your bestfriend.

You know she'll wake up tomorrow, she'll remember all of this, and she'll already be attached to him. 

So, you let her be. You let her live in this moment, you let her take it. But, when the time comes, just like yours will, you'll be there to help her face it. Figure it out together with Sian. You just hope it doesn't backfire terribly on her. At work. 

And Yunho is thinking the same when he reads into the situation a bit, too. 

They get home, and he quickly peeks over at your parents' home to make sure all looks well. The three of them step in and take their showers to get comfortable and ready for bed. When it's time for them to relax and do their own debriefing, Yunho stands in the kitchen chugging water while Seonghwa and Mingi are getting their blankets onto the couch and the air mattress.

"You and Y/N are cute." Mingi says with a smile. "Like for real. It's nice to see you happy."

"I am happy. She makes me happy."

"Sounds like it's time to make it official."

"Mm." Yunho hums. "Yeah, maybe. I just—" Yunho sighs. "I don't come alone. I come with a package deal. I don't know how she'd feel, and most importantly, I don't know how Seora would take it."

"Ace will be fine. I'm sure it'll be an adjustment, but she'll eventually learn to open her heart to it, too. She wants you to be happy."

"I know. But, it won't be that easy. It can never be that easy." Yunho almost says defeatedly. "Anyway, sorry. I don't really wanna think about it right now. What was up with that?" Him and Mingi look at Seonghwa, causing him to raise a brow.

"Uh, yeah." Mingi laughs and looks at Seonghwa. "What was all that about? With Noeul?"

"I don't know how you're gonna explain this and get out of it." Yunho adds with a tiny chuckle.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up." Seonghwa rubs his face. "Fuck. Whatever."

"Iono my guy, you looked like you enjoyed it."

"I mean, yeah. I'm not gonna lie about that."

"Time to get your priorities straight." Yunho snorts, taking another big sip of his water to avoid a hangover potentially creeping in tomorrow. "Can't just whatever your way out of this." Seonghwa looks at his phone to the unread texts from Yoori and he feels his heart sink. He's just not sure why, though.

What was the exact reason?

Did his heart sink because he felt bad and he knew he fucked up, or did his heart sink because he felt guilty and knew he was guilty for enjoying it?

"Have you been plotting on her since we walked into the club?"

"I mean, I see her around work, too. She's always been cute."

"Seonghwa." Yunho says with a small chuckle. "You can't keep doing this back and forth with Yoori."

"You're gonna have to decide cause even though you don't have a strict title to whatever you and Yoori have going on, it's clearly pretty deep. You've been spending a lot of time with her, sleeping over. Taking her out on dates."

"I didn't ask to be lectured, okay. I know." Seonghwa scoffs a bit before plopping into the couch and getting comfortable. "Tonight was just for fun."

"What if Noeul didn't feel that way?"

"Well." Is all he says before shutting his eyes.

"This guy." Yunho laughs. "Anyway, goodnight. Thanks for coming along tonight."

"Gonna go text your girl?"

"Yup! The one and only." Yunho teases before heading to his room and shutting the door. The mattress feels divine against his body, sheets keeping him warm and comfortable when he tucks it tightly around his body. He decides to shoot you a quick text, hoping you're resting after a successful and productive birthday.

yunho: you safe and comfortable at home?

you: i am. you? ☺️

yunho: yeah. just wish you were here. maybe i should've whisked you away.

you: yeah. ☹️ 

you: but i'm glad you came & we made the most out of it. thank you, yunho. ❤️

yunho: you're welcome, beautiful. sleep tight, okay? i'll try and see you before i pick up seora.

you: okay. goodnight, yu.

Yunho smiles to himself, setting his phone on the charger. Just as he's about to lie down and get some shut eye, his eyes land on the photo of him, Eunha and Seora on the nightstand, his smile slowly turning to a frown. His heart drops a bit when he lets out a sigh, but this time, it feels a little different. It doesn't ache and clench like it used to, it doesn't make him feel incredibly empty.

"She makes me happy. Really happy." He says as if Eunha could hear. Maybe she can, maybe she can't. But, all Yunho knows is that maybe, he's making progress.

Maybe, this was the beginning of healing.

Maybe, he'll be ready to let go sooner than later.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x

[theunsinkableship1]

LUKOLA: STEALTH MODE ON

⚠️DISCLAIMER: The following is for Lukolaland only. Skip if you don't believe or ship.

Whatever their relationship status may be, one thing is clear they seem to be operating in full stealth mode, keeping their connection private and their interactions deliberately low-profile. The last time Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton were seen together publicly was on a post in October 2024, when they shared a coordinated photo on both of their Instagram Stories. Notably, this post did not appear on their grids, which sets it apart from their traditional Lukola’s Polin’s pictures. Over the years, Nicola and Luke have built a well-documented history of sharing behind-the-scenes moments during filming whether in costume or not and this post feels familiar yet distinctly different.

Considering that this is the first photo of them together since June 2024 and the Bridgerton premiere, it stands out because it breaks a long period of visual absence. Unlike previous posts showcasing more overt camaraderie or fun behind-the-scenes moments. In the past, their posts of each other have been more direct and sometimes playful, showing them in costumes or candid moments on or off set. This one feels slightly different, perhaps more understated or reflective, suggesting a shift in how they share their connection publicly. By posting it on their Stories rather than their grids, Nicola and Luke seem to emphasize its fleeting nature perhaps signaling a desire to maintain an air of mystery, a desire for control over how their connection is presented or perceived or to subtly reconnect with their fans without drawing too much attention.

The timing of this post is significant; It broke a long silence in their public interactions; Given their history of regularly sharing glimpses of their partnership during filming, this sparse but deliberate post raises questions.

The caption accompanying the image “New year, same hoodie” adds a playful, lighthearted vibe, suggesting a shared in-joke or familiarity. It’s not flashy or promotional but feels intentionally low-key. It is playful on the surface but invites interpretation when viewed in the context of their dynamic and timing. The idea of a "new year" hints at fresh beginnings, while the “same hoodie” represents familiarity, continuity and comfort, a metaphor for their enduring bond despite changing circumstances, perhaps a subtle nod to their long-standing relationship, whether professional, platonic, or otherwise.

Posting this on their Stories instead of their grids may indicate a desire to keep it more fleeting and private, though they still wanted to share the moment.

The hoodie showcased by Nicola is one of the hoodies they wear during their "Champagne Fridays" tradition, where the cast and crew gather after filming to unwind with champagne. The mention of the hoodie in the caption highlights continuity in their bond and shared rituals. However, the lack of champagne or celebration in the photo is notable. Instead, the image feels quieter and more reflective, like a nod to those traditions without fully engaging in them. It’s as if they’re acknowledging the past while signaling that things have evolved.

Hoodies themselves carry cultural symbolism: In the beginnings, wearing a hoodie meant you were keeping a low profile. The hoodie represented discretion, dignity, and defiance in hip hop culture. Youths who were particularly marginalized from society donned a hoodie to feel safe and cocooned. The hoodies are part of the stealth mode attire and are used for discretion, a low-profile demeanor, and for safety and privacy. In a context like this, it could hint at their efforts to keep certain aspects of their connection shielded from public scrutiny. Whether intentional or not, this choice of attire, paired with the phrase, creates an image of quiet solidarity and shared understanding.

What stands out immediately is that while they appear close in proximity, they are not visibly touching, a departure from their usual dynamic, where physical closeness was part of their photos together even before the world tour. The casual intimacy of the photo, paired with the setting evokes a certain nostalgia for fans who have followed their behind-the-scenes friendship closely.

Nicola looks genuinely happy, with a soft, natural smile that suggests comfort. Luke’s expression is more neutral but attentive, looking directly at the camera. There's no exaggerated posing, which gives the image an unguarded feel, as if it’s meant for a specific audience or insiders.

Nicola, with her pursed smile and sparkling eyes, exudes the kind of energy that could favor someone who knows or is part of something not fully visible, a secret kept just under the surface. Meanwhile, Luke’s expression is more neutral, but his relaxed demeanor reinforces the casual intimacy of the moment. The photo itself feels warm and candid, capturing a moment of simplicity between two people who share a deep familiarity.

Some have speculated that this photo was shared as damaged control to quash rumors of tension and falling out. However, this theory feels inconsistent with their approach. If the intention had been damage control, the photo would likely have been more prominently displayed on their grids or accompanied by more overt messaging. The fact that it was shared on their stories fleeting and understated suggests a more deliberate choice to share a moment that reflects their connection without making it performative. It feels less like an act of appeasement and more like a quiet reaffirmation of their bond a way to say, “We’re still here, still us,” without needing to overstate it.

The photo encapsulates the essence of Nicola and Luke’s dynamic: close, playful, and grounded in shared history, yet it also reflects a shift toward more privacy. The subtle distance between them, the nostalgic reference to the hoodie, and the simplicity of the post all point to a deeper story beneath the surface. Whether or not it was meant to address fan speculation, it feels authentic to their friendship and shared journey. Nicola’s sparkling, knowing expression and Luke’s relaxed demeanor convey more than words ever could. This post feels layered with meaning, intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it reflects a conscious strategy to keep their bond private or is simply a playful nod to fans, it speaks to the depth of their dynamic and invites those who follow their journey to read between the lines.

[filurig]

i realise i havent actually posted this guy until now here? FKJDSKJF but this guy is rauk (literal translation of his name, things have happened so im probs gonna make his "real" name at some point...), klint's older brother (second image is from may...) more about him under the cut..

rauk is well regarded in Ehrumnen, and is certainly a popular young stag among women during their spring festivals. he does participate and many pairs of hinds show interest in him, but strangely, despite approaching his thirties, he has not shown much interest in fathering any fawns with them. he hasn't even found a "year-partner", aka another bonded male, and still sticks around his birth family and younger brother, who is much less popular than he.

little does anyone know that he has actually found a year-partner in gaerneh , although due to the wishes of the latter they generally keep that between themselves. truthfully, rauk just can't be bothered with the prospect of fathering - even though in Ehrumneh culture the father only plays a sporadic role in the fawn's lives. he isn't especially attracted to hinds, even during peak spring when hormones should be inclining him to, and he has yet to find a pair of hinds that he feels close enough with to consider it with. and he's in no rush, either - to him, it will happen when it happens, and even if it doesn't, he has gaerneh and his family.

rauk as you can gather is pretty laid back, almost a little too much according to some - and seems surprisingly unconcerned with upholding tradition, despite looking like he would be the prime candidate to. truthfully, a part of him sort of wants to run away from it all sometimes. perhaps his carefree attitude towards all that stuff comes from the fact that a lot of people dont bother questioning him about it - they assume he will fall into place sooner or later.

[parkerslatte]

Blanket Fort

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N returns home from a long day of helping Feyre at the studio and her heart melts from what she finds.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Y/N entered her house, hushed whispers were heard coming from the living room. After a long day working at the studio with Feyre, all Y/N wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. She kicked off her shoes and entered the living room and immediately paused when she took notice of the mess of it.

Instead of the usual furniture set by the fireplace, it was pushed to the corners of the room in favour of the large blanket fort in the centre of the room. The hushed whispers were of course coming from inside. Despite the tiredness in her body, Y/N smiled.

“Daddy, is Mummy going to come in?” the voice of her six year old son whispered. Or in his case, just spoke aloud.

“Get her!” Her three year old daughter giggled.

“Alright, I’ll get her,” the voice of her husband said.

Y/N leaned against the doorway and watched how Azriel emerged from the blanket fort. With his wings it was a miracle he managed to fit inside. As soon as Y/N made eye contact with him, she simply fell in love with him all over again. His hair was a mess and stuck up in all directions and his eyes were sleepy. His shirt hung loosely on his body and was the one he would never be cause dead in outside the comfort of his home.

“Hey, honey,” Azriel whispered and pulled her body against his, resting his arms around her waist.

“Hey,” Y/N replied and lazily rested her arms over his shoulders. “So what is this all about?”

Azriel smiled. “Oh this? Just a little construction work. Robin has been bossing me and his sister around all day. Odessa has just been happy to help out her big brother.”

Y/N smiled and wished that she had been with her family. Y/N remembered when she first told Azriel she was pregnant with Robin, he had been over the moon. He had been protective before the pregnancy but during it, Y/N couldn’t even go to the kitchen without him trailing behind her. Y/N needed to beg Cassian and Rhys to take him out for a few days to give her a well needed break of the coddling.

After Robin was born, Azriel had a hard time bonding with him. Azriel blamed it on Robin constantly needing her but Y/N knew that it wasn’t the case. Y/N knew that Azriel didn’t see himself fit to be a father. He had never voiced these thoughts to Y/N but she could tell just from looking in his eyes. Azriel only held Robin when Y/N passed him to him. He would only interact with him when Robin crawled over to him. It was as if Azriel was afraid of tainting his son just from being around him.

It wasn’t until Y/N went on an overnight trip with Feyre that everything sorted itself out. When she returned that morning, Y/N expected Robin to be asleep in his crib but what she found was even more precious. Robin was fast asleep on Azriel’s chest and Azriel himself was asleep too, a protective hand on Robin’s back. Y/N had asked Feyre to paint the image which now proudly hung in their living room, a matching one of Azriel and Odessa next to it

After that night, Robin would always follow Azriel around. He had become one of his shadows. Robin tried to imitate Azriel. The way he stood, the way he walked. Even facial expressions. Despite Robin being born without wings, he always demanded Azriel to take him flying and pretend that he was flying himself. Robin idolised his father, it was as simple as that.

When Odessa was born, Azriel didn’t ever pull away from her. And of course, like Robin, Odessa would always follow her father around. And due to Odessa’s small wings poking from her back, she would always plead for Azriel to teach her how to fly, despite the lack of strength in her wings that could not support her weight yet.

Y/N never minded that her children always wanted Azriel. Of course they would always want her too, but Y/N knew that Azriel always needed to be reminded by his children how loved he really was. There were still some days where Azriel believed that he did not deserve the life he had and one those days, Y/N would leave the house and allow Azriel time with their children and all those thoughts would instantly wash away.

“I wish you could have been with us,” Azriel said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They have been asking for you since lunch.”

“Feyre needed a lot of help today, the class she was teaching was overbooked so I helped out a little longer than usual,” Y/N answered. “I wish I could have been here earlier.”

Azriel smiled and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into the kiss. The feel of his lips against hers was a pleasant feeling after her tiring day. However before she had a chance to fully savour it, small hands grabbed Y/N’s dress and tugged it.

“Mummy,” Robin said excitedly. “Look what we made!”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel and down to her son. She smiled upon seeing him. He definitely took after his father, even down to the shade of his eyes was a replica. The only difference was his nose, he had Y/N’s nose.

“Come on!” Robin said, now gripping onto Y/N’s hand.

Y/N allowed herself to be led by her son to the mass of blankets in the centre of the room. Y/N peeked inside and saw her daughter bundled amongst the pillows. Odessa laughed gleefully upon seeing her mother.

The space in the blanket fort was larger than she thought, mostly to allow Azriel to enter with his wings. Y/N shuffled inside and laid down next to her daughter. She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I missed you today.”

“Did you miss me too?” Robin asked, laying down on the other side of Y/N.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her son and kissed his cheeks. “Of course I did!” Robin tried to push Y/N away, yet the smile on his face and the giggles escaping him as his mother showered him with love betrayed his resistance.

“Daddy! Come back!” Odessa piped up and giggled as Azriel’s face came into view.

He crawled through the gap in the blankets, making sure to keep his wings tucked close to his body. As soon as he was inside, he laid down next to Robin and Robin immediately hugged his father.

Y/N watched Azriel’s face light up as Robin began to speak to him while gripping onto his shirt. Her heart couldn’t feel more full.

“Mummy.” Odessa’s voice caught Y/N’s attention.

Y/N smiled down at her daughter, wrapping her in a hug. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we sleep here?” Odessa asked.

Y/N looked at Azriel and he already looked ready to pass out. Y/N smiled. She returned her gaze to Odessa.

“I don’t see why not,” Y/N said.

Odessa let out a small noise of happiness before nuzzling into her mother's arms and closed her eyes. Y/N held onto her daughter and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“They are growing up too fast,” Azriel said quietly once the two children were asleep between them.

“I know,” Y/N said, reaching out her hand to hold onto Azriel’s. “I swear it was only yesterday we were celebrating Odessa’s first birthday.”

Azriel smiled as he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s palm. “What do you say about another one?”

“Another kid?” Y/N asked

“No, another dog,” Azriel teased. “Yes, another kid.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I remember a time where you were terrified to become a father. Look at you now, wanting more children who look exactly like you.”

“Odessa has your eyes and Robin has your nose. They take after you at least a small amount,” Azriel defended, teasing his wife.

Y/N chuckled. “So you want another one?”

“Only if you wanted to,” Azriel said. “I’ve been thinking since having Odessa that I like having a family. I like having children. And I’ve realised recently that I want a large family. I want more people to love.”

Y/N cupped Azriel’s cheek. “My love, I would love that too. But perhaps we don’t start trying for another child until Odessa is a little older. You know what Nyx was like when he first started to fly, imagine what it will be like with Odessa while also caring for another young baby.”

Azriel smiled. “That would be a nightmare.”

“I know it would be,” Y/N replied. “But having a large family is not a no. Let’s just enjoy what we have for now.”

“Okay,” Azriel said.

He looked down at his children and Y/N could see the unconditional love in his eyes.

“I never thank you enough for proving to me that I deserve this life, Y/N,” Azriel whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me, my love,” Y/N said, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You never need to thank me for something you figured out yourself.”

Azriel smiled in response. He carefully stretched one wing out and draped it over Y/N and the children, wrapping them all in a warm cocoon.

“You are going to ache in the morning,” Y/N said.

“I know,” Azriel said. “But it’s worth it to spend the night with my family like this.”

Y/N smiled. “We definitely need to take this down while Robin and Odessa go to Rhys and Feyre’s, otherwise they will want to sleep in it every night.”

“What’s going to be the excuse?” Azriel asked.

Y/N yawned. “We can figure that out in the morning or we can just take them for ice cream. They will forget all about it.”

Azriel smiled and wrapped his arm around his family. His fingers linked with Y/N’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied.

The small squeeze of Y/N’s hand and the gentle pull on that golden thread connecting their souls, Y/N was consumed by Azriel’s love for her and their family. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[tryingtothinkofabetterusername]

Sorry to use screencaps for attention, but hey, if you don't like the words, the images are still brilliant and beautiful.

Anyway, it's half a decade since Apokolips War, which was quite divisive, and I understand why. It went hard on the misery and loss angle, then ended on the ultimate downer ending where the heroes win, but they still lost.

*Aside*

Has the antagonist winning in the first part of the narrative, him being defeated in the finale, but even the triumph involved significant loss; the filmmakers wanted to mirror The Flashpoint Paradox, since it had the mutilation and deaths of many until a complete erasure of the universe.

Pardon this self-indulgent tangent, I would have split AW into two movies; first film of the final Apokolips War being the initial preparation and invasion of Apokolips, maybe some other subplots too, then ending with the Paradoom decimation, and part two being most of the movie as it was, if expanded to fill time lost by dividing. Also, solve the last problem with magic instead - Constantine could use a forbidden spell to restore the universe, which would still piss off the Spectre, thus carrying him into the Tomorrowverse (although, I do understand the thematic symmetry with a universe that began with a Flashpoint, ending with one).

*Main subject*

Despite Apokolips War perhaps being too grim and maybe gratuitous with the violence, overall it was generally exceptional, with it closing numerous plot threads of the DC Animated Movie Universe (albeit, some probably warranted further development), however, I'm probably obligated to love it in some ways as it had the culmination of the relationship between Damian Wayne and Raven, which was the most unexpected, yet most enthralling and best developed.

Yet I think there was an issue inherent in Apokolips War, that is it ended the DCAMU when there was still so much potential to explore. I'm pretty good at creating ideas, but not that great at developing them. That said, I had a bunch of possibilities that may or may not have been good to explore. There were more details in the following, but I've cut it back to minimum to be mostly relevant to our power couple, individually or together.

Teen Titans film with Starfire as lead. Invited by Blackfire to Tamaran. Seem to reconnect, but Blackfire was setting her up as trade/hostage/something to villains. Starfire and Blackfire have a final fight that echoes times from their childhood training, then the coup, but this one ends with Starfire reluctantly delivering a killing blow. Donna Troy, Bumblebee, and particularly Raven would be involved as Starfire realises that her Titan team mates were her true sisters - cheesy, but a nice way to further portray their bonds.

Batman film. Primary plot a gang war triggered by Black Mask. Lady Shiva observes in background, but then approaches Robin to request that he take command of the League of Assassins. He refuses, but she countered it was his birthright more than Gotham, yet respected his decision, while noting she will wait and ask again later.

Teen Titans vs. Terror Titans (or new HIVE? Bring in Slade's ex-wife) Maybe one member in the villain group knew Damian when they were both young, and she expressed romantic interest in him to his confusion and Raven's jealousy. I know the jelly love interest thing can be cliche, but I think it'd be fun to explore that side of her, especially if she is eventually reassured by Damian who doesn't realise the issue the entire time.

Teen Titans/Justice League Dark film. I think a way to further justify Raven's contempt for Constantine in AW would be due to this film in which Zatanna takes Raven as an apprentice. Few Titans tag along, including Robin, Starfire, and Beast Boy. Main villain necromancer - or at least serving the main villain. Anyway, dead people from the heroes' pasts are brought to fight and undermine them. Beast Boy would obviously face Terra. Starfire would face Blackfire. Robin would face Talia, Deathstroke, Heretic, and Ra's al Ghul - which the necromancer/villain would taunt him about bringing death where ever he went (which would ultimately be a factor that kept Robin from confessing his feelings to Raven at the end of this film and start of Apokolips War); Raven herself would face Arella and the people of Azarath, aggravating her earlier guilt again. Zatanna would face her father, but she overcomes her insecurity and beats the necromancer, which made the undead thralls regain control of themselves; while some will remain bitter like Deathstroke and Blackfire, some like Talia, Arella, and Terra would absolve their loved one of fault for their deaths and/or soured relationships (I know having Talia slightly redeemed would be odd considering how evil she became, however, I felt like it was a weirdly unaddressed fact that despite her original moral ambiguity, she wasn't such a monster until Bad Blood, which I think was due to the Lazarus Pit, thus it'd be nice to give Damian some more positive closure with his mother; hell, could throw in a cute detail of her expressing approval for Raven as worthy of her son). Perhaps a twist of Deathstroke not actually being dead, rather simply allied with the main villain for another shot at revenge against Damian and Nightwing too later. During battles in the film, Raven's chakra prison holding Trigon would begin to weaken, thus setting up that struggle in Apokolips War, so it doesn't seem so abrupt.

I have a few more, but that's just some basic ideas that I think would have been enjoyable to explore. Maybe someone could be inspired, if not take these ideas and make them into something better.

Raven: I guess neither of our lives are very funny. But I'll tell you something about yourself that not even you may know: you may be insufferable, but in your heart, you are a kind and generous soul.

Raven: Unfortunately, this is my home. I have to watch him. Damian: It's not your home. Home is the place where... when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

Raven: You probably think I'm weak. Damian: Raven, you're one of the strongest people I know.

Damian: When I asked you to join me in leading the League of Assassins, I wasn't doing it because you're a good fighter. I... I had feelings for you. If you didn't, you made the right decision. Raven: It wasn't that at all! I left because my father wants to kill you. After everything, I couldn't risk that.

Damian: Remember, father: justice, not vengeance. Save them. Save her.

Damian: You brought me back. Raven: I had to take the chance.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Blackberries and Vanilla

Part 2 to the collaboration with the nameless writer. If you see his work (you'll know it when you see it) please support him he's been very kind to us despite his upstart “attack” at us saying we don't know how to right Sohyun

Part I here

Doflamingo floated weightlessly in the void, surrounded by an endless expanse of stars shimmering against a backdrop of oppressive heat. The heat wasn’t external—it burned from within, coursing through him like molten fire. His mind was foggy, caught between dreams and reality, but one question burned through the haze like a roaring flame:

“What do you fight for?”

The voice was deep, resonant, and impossible to ignore. It echoed within him, reverberating against the raw edges of his consciousness. Doflamingo furrowed his brow, instinctively clenching his fists. Memories flickered to life like embers igniting in the dark: the moments of anger, the countless times people had tried to take what was his, the fights he had endured, not out of choice but necessity. Each image fanned the flames of a deep, abyssal well of ferocity—a ferocity he had always carried with him, buried just beneath the surface.

It was comforting, in a way, like the warmth of an old, familiar fire. He had been an outcast for so long, an intruder in a world that seemed bent on rejecting him. So when something—anything—fell into his grasp, whether it was success, security, or someone he cared about, his instinct was immediate and primal: Protect it. Fight for it. Guard it with everything you are. Even if it costs you everything.

As the flames surged brighter within him, the voice spoke again, each word like a drop of molten metal in his chest:

“A dragon draws strength from their hoard. So I ask you again, what is your hoard?”

The question lingered in the air, pressing into him. Doflamingo tried to dismiss it, tried to claim that he was above such things—that he didn’t need anyone or anything to define him. But the voice was not so easily swayed. It knew him too well because it was him, and it would not let him lie.

The stars around him began to pulse with a fiery glow, and scenes from his life played out before him, each one more vivid than the last. They weren’t material things—no mountains of gold or treasures locked away in vaults. Instead, they were moments of connection. Memories of the friendships he had forged, the bonds he had nurtured despite his rough exterior. Each face, each laugh, each fleeting moment of closeness lit up the darkness like stars being born.

He saw Sohyun, her sharp wit and radiant presence anchoring him in ways he hadn’t fully understood before. He saw the trust in the eyes of her friends, people who had once looked at him with suspicion but now saw him as family. He saw the countless times he had fought, not for wealth or glory, but to protect those fleeting, precious connections—to ensure that he was never alone again.

The flames inside him roared to life as the voice spoke, its tone shifting, tinged with curiosity and understanding:

“How curious. While many dragons hoard knowledge, power, or riches, you take a different approach. You hoard knowing. You hoard intimacy, not for greed but for fear of isolation. You gather bonds and guard them as fiercely as any treasure. You are gregarious, a trait most uncommon for a dragon, yet you provide a compelling argument for its strength. You fight with a vigor that rivals any dragon’s, yet your greatest strength lies not in what you take but in what you give.”

The heat in his chest swelled to the point of pain, but the pain was transformative. It was not destruction—it was rebirth. The flames burned away the doubts, the insecurities, the self-imposed barriers, until all that was left was warmth. Pure, steady, and radiant.

Doflamingo felt himself drifting among the stars, no longer weighed down by uncertainty or fear. The voice burned brighter, filling the void with its presence.

“A Dragon of Bonds… that is truly an interesting tale.” There was an almost amused warmth in the voice now, as if it relished the novelty of his existence. “Go forth, and take all you can. Protect what is yours. Build your hoard and let no one take it from you. You have the heart of a dragon, and now, you will have its power as well.”

With those final words, the stars around him flared into a brilliant, blinding light. Doflamingo’s body felt heavy again, the weight of the world pulling him back to reality. But the warmth remained, rooted deep within his soul.

Doflamingo groaned softly as his senses stirred, the world around him slowly coming into focus. The first thing he noticed was the scent of vanilla—a soft, soothing aroma that cut through the dull ache in his body. It was intoxicating, grounding, and oddly reassuring. He took a deeper breath, his newfound instincts sharpening the edges of the sensation, and realized the scent wasn’t coming from the air. It was coming from her.

His eyes fluttered open, drawn toward the source. There, sitting over him, was Sohyun. Her expression was a mixture of relief and exhaustion, her eyes shimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite place but felt all the same. She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned closer.

“Don’t scare me like that, big guy,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, but trembling ever so slightly.

Doflamingo tried to sit up, wincing as the pain in his muscles flared like tiny embers beneath his skin. He wasn’t sure what hurt more—the fight he had endured or the weight of knowing he’d put her through that fear. He wanted to apologize, to say something that would ease her worry, but the words caught in his throat as her scent wrapped around him like a balm.

It was then that he realized his senses were no longer the same. Everything felt sharper, more vivid. The warmth of Sohyun’s hand on his shoulder was electric, her scent so rich and layered he could almost taste it. And then there was the faint hum in the air—a ripple of energy that emanated from her like a soft heartbeat.

“You smell different,” Doflamingo muttered, his voice hoarse but laced with curiosity.

Sohyun blinked, startled, before laughing softly. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you.”

She leaned in slightly, taking a deliberate breath. His scent was no longer the neutral, faintly clean aroma she’d grown used to. It was deeper now, richer—a heady blend of blackberries and something warm, like smoked cedar. It was intoxicating and grounding all at once, a powerful signal of his new nature.

“You smell… amazing,” she admitted, her cheeks tinting pink as she glanced away.

Doflamingo tilted his head, confused but intrigued. “What’s happening to me?”

Sohyun’s gaze softened, and she brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. “You’ve changed. I don’t know what kind of therianthrope you’ve become yet, but I can feel it. Your aura—it’s strong. And your instincts…” She trailed off, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They’re sharp enough to notice me, even before your eyes open.”

Doflamingo’s brow furrowed as he processed her words. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he felt it—the fire within him, the pulsing presence of something vast and primal that hadn’t been there before. And yet, none of it felt foreign. It felt like a piece of himself he had always been chasing but never quite grasped until now.

Sohyun’s heart fluttered as she watched him. Relief coursed through her veins, but it was accompanied by an uncomfortable pang of guilt. She hated admitting it, but part of her was glad—relieved—that Doflamingo was now a therianthrope. She hated how that part of her felt vindicated, like the world finally made sense because he wasn’t fully human anymore. It was selfish, and she knew it.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed them against his cheek again. You’re still you, she told herself, trying to push the guilt aside. But the truth lingered like a shadow in her mind. She had always worried that their differences—her primal nature, her instincts as an alpha—would one day create a rift between them. And now? Now, those worries had evaporated, leaving her wondering if she had secretly wanted this all along.

Sohyun stood, offering him her hand. “Come on. Let’s go home,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her.

Doflamingo hesitated for a moment, staring up at her. The way she looked at him—like he was still him despite everything—made something in his chest tighten. He reached up, letting her pull him to his feet, and as their hands touched, a spark of connection shot through him, more vivid and visceral than anything he had felt before.

He caught her gaze, his lips quirking into a small smile. “I think I’m going to need your help figuring this out.”

Sohyun grinned, a flicker of mischief returning to her eyes, though her heart still felt heavy. “You mean everything? Or just the therianthrope part?”

Doflamingo chuckled, his voice still rough but warmer now. “Both.”

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Sohyun tightened her grip on his hand, her guilt still whispering in the back of her mind. You’re still you, Doffy, she thought again, and she vowed to never let her relief diminish the love she already had for the man he’d always been. For now, she chose to focus on the fact that they were together, and that, despite everything, they would face whatever came next as one.

“You’re still you,” she whispered under her breath, and this time, she meant it. She guided him out of the cafe. As they walked the owner; a werebunny named Nayeon apologized for not being able to help due to only being sigma. Maggy, Kazuha, Dino and Arin were still frozen in their seats processing everything. They all felt elation at Doflamingo’s turn like he now fully was what he was suppose to be but also guilt because they had partially wished he'd be like them. They all eventually left with gift baskets from the baker bunny though, with extras for the “Red Dragon Archfiend”

As they walked out of the café, Sohyun’s hand firmly wrapped around Doflamingo’s, he couldn’t stop noticing. Everything was sharper now—details he never would have caught before flooded his senses. The scent of the baker bunny Nayeon lingered, light and sweet like freshly baked bread, but beneath it was a thread of anxiety she was clearly trying to mask. The creak of the café door as it swung shut behind them resonated in his ears like a chime, and every shift of Sohyun’s body as she guided him was something he felt acutely: the warmth of her skin, the subtle hitch in her breath, and even the way her thumb stroked his hand absently, almost like she was trying to ground him.

The dragon inside him, however, wasn’t so easily calmed. It wasn’t frantic or panicked—it was methodical, constantly observing, cataloging. Her friends were scared of us. They’re relieved, though. The werebunny has a good heart but weak instincts. Is she safe in a place like this? That man at the bar—he’ll regret crossing us if he ever tries again.

Doflamingo’s head throbbed slightly as his consciousness struggled to keep up with the relentless observations of the dragon. It wasn’t just thoughts; it was sensations too. The distant hum of a streetlamp buzzing with electricity a block away, the vibrations of an engine as a car passed, the rustle of a bird’s wings as it flitted into the night—everything pressed on his mind, layering one on top of the other.

And yet, it wasn’t overwhelming. It was exhilarating.

He could feel the streaks of crimson, gold, and teal that now marked his body glowing faintly in the dark, as if they were alive, pulsing with energy. He caught glimpses of them as they walked, reflected in windows and puddles on the street. They were an extension of the dragon’s presence—a sign of its watchful, tireless awareness.

The arrival at their home was quiet but charged, a thick anticipation lingering in the air. Doflamingo stepped through the doorway with measured steps, the weight of his transformation and everything that had happened resting heavily on his shoulders. Sohyun, however, had no intention of letting the moment pass quietly. As a born and raised Werekirin, and an alpha through and through, her curiosity burned bright. She wanted to see the full extent of who and what Doflamingo had become.

The moment the door clicked shut, she turned to him, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Okay, let’s get it out of the way, baby. I need you to shift for me,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Doflamingo froze. His dragon stirred beneath his skin, humming softly in encouragement, but all he could feel was an overwhelming wave of hesitation. The thought of fully embracing this new side of himself in front of Sohyun—his equal, his partner—terrified him. Would this change how she saw him? Could he still meet her expectations?

He took a shaky breath as his senses continued to heighten. Her scent—sweet and grounding, like vanilla and fresh rain—pulled at something primal within him, and his fire surged in response, his dragon reveling in her closeness. Yet his mind remained locked in a storm of doubt.

Sohyun noticed his struggle immediately. She crossed the space between them and placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her expression softened, and her voice dropped to a tender murmur. “Babe, babe. Look at me. I’m here with you. It’s okay. You won’t hurt me. You’re too noble for that. The dragon and you are one now—not separate, not enemies, just you.”

Her gaze was , calm yet commanding, staring at him like a steady current, grounding him. She leaned in and kissed him, soft and deliberate. It was a kiss that spoke of reassurance, of love, of her unshakable trust in him.

The storm in Doflamingo’s mind stilled. Slowly, the barrier between him and the dragon dissolved, their essences merging fully for the first time. His body began to shift, a feeling of heat rushing through him. At first, it was sharp, almost painful, but as he let go of his resistance, the discomfort transformed into euphoria. His muscles stretched, his skin hardened and gleamed as crimson scales emerged, each edged with streaks of gold and teal.

His senses sharpened even further, the world around him coming alive in exquisite detail. Every flicker of light, every shift in Sohyun’s scent, every hum of energy in the room—he noticed it all. Power coursed through him, raw and untamed, and for the first time, he didn’t shy away from it.

Sohyun stood back, watching in awe. Her inner kirin purred with excitement, practically stampeding in delight as she took in the sight before her. Doflamingo’s weredragon form was magnificent—regal and commanding, every inch of him exuding strength and dominance. His aura, however, was what truly captivated her. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t just powerful; it was layered, complex, a tapestry of emotions and energy. She could feel his joy, his hesitation, his protective instincts, and, most importantly, his unwavering devotion to her. It was intoxicating, emboldening. Her kirin surged with pride and desire, its hooves stamping impatiently as if to say, This is ours.

And yet, even as her heart swelled with love and excitement, a pang of guilt struck her. It was small but sharp, like a pebble caught in her shoe. She felt the weight of her earlier desires—the secret, selfish wish she’d harbored for Doflamingo to be like her. She had never wanted to admit it, even to herself, but now that he stood before her, fully transformed, the guilt was impossible to ignore.

Her momentary lapse didn’t go unnoticed. Doflamingo’s keen senses picked up the slight hitch in her breath, the flicker of guilt in her aura. His glowing golden eyes narrowed as he shifted back to his human form, his expression etched with concern.

“Soho,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “Is something wrong?”

Sohyun blinked, caught off guard by his question. She forced a smile, but it was weak, betraying her inner turmoil. “No, everything is perfect,” she said, her voice wavering. “Too perfect, actually.” She sighed, looking away. “I feel bad because… you’re everything I’ve ever wanted now, but I can’t help but feel like I didn’t consider your feelings. Like I wanted you to be like me so badly, and I don’t know if it was right to want that.”

Doflamingo tilted his head, his expression softening. “Wait,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You didn’t set up that weredragon attack, did you?”

Sohyun’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I’d never put my babygirl in danger like that!”

Doflamingo chuckled, the tension in the room easing. “Good,” he said lightly, though his voice carried an undertone of sincerity. He stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “Listen, Soho. First please don't bring that nickname back. Second, It’s understandable to want an equal. I get it. And honestly? I’m not mad about it. If anything, I’m glad you pushed me—because now I know what I’m capable of. And if this is what it means to stand beside you, then I’m all in.”

Sohyun’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss of relief, of love, of letting go. For the first time, she allowed herself to fully embrace this new chapter of their relationship.

As their kiss deepened, her kirin purred within her, basking in the warmth of their connection. She had an equal now—a partner who matched her strength and fire. It wasn’t what she had imagined, but it was everything she had ever needed. As the kiss deepened the couple shifted as if second nature as their truest natures took center stage. Sohyun smiled as her cerulean werekirin form stood in front of Doffy’s weredragon form. Their scents growing intense as their desires grew until neither could take it anymore. Sohyun ripped off her clothes desperate to be bare for her mate and Doflamingo followed suit.

As they stood before each other bare Sohyun noticed a new thing about Doflamingo…well two new things. She marveled at his two cocks. She raised an eyebrow before saying, “have you always had two um…dicks?”

she was obviously surprised as was Doflamingo. He stared at them before he said “um we should probably research weredragons but not right now because I need to fuck you…no I need to breed you. I need you to have my litter,” he said as the dragon took over. He crossed the distance between them and traced her jawline before lining his bigger cock with her slit, Sohyun moaned as he filled her with him. Sohyun moaned.

“Fuck!” Sohyun groaned as she grabbed Doflamingo’s horns and locked her legs around his hips.

“Come on Doffy take me.”

Doflamingo groaned as he grabbed her waist. Sohyun smiled as she felt his manhood pierce her. As they mated their scents danced around each other Sohyun smiled as she smelled their scents mixed and moaned as the pleasure overtook her. Doflamingo smirked happy his mate was lost in the pleasure. He dug his claws gently into his mates hips and increased his intensity. Sohyun groaned as she came on one of Doflamingo’s cocks.

“Fuck you fill me so well. Get rougher with me,” she moaned knowing that both of them needed this. Doflamingo then fully let go and let the dragon take over. His blackberry scent amassing and claiming Sohyun as hers reciprocated the action. He rammed his cock in and out of her as his inner dragon overtook all of him.

“Youre mine. My greatest treasure nothing compares. Not diamonds not gold, nothing.” he says as his cock tears through her walls. Sohyun moans and teases.

“How sappy.” her words hit their mark as Doflamingo loses himself to his orgasm. His smaller cock explodes all over Sohyun’s chest and torso. Doflamingo watches with lust as Sohyun rubs his cum all over her body

“Fuck now I'm properly yours,” she says as she cums for the second time before collapsing on the couch. She turns to Doflamingo staring at both his hard cocks hungrily but the soreness preventing her from satiating that lust frustrates her.

“Fuck I'm exhausted but I want more,” she groans.

“Fuck I have felt like I've entered a rut, but Im too sore and tired.”

She turns to Doffy and says, “Tomorrow we are gonna whenever we can. Got it,”

“Okay take tomorrow off then. You have a previous engagement,” Soyhun

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing their room in a soft golden glow as Doflamingo stretched his limbs. His dragon form was still prominent, the crimson and gold hues of his scales glinting faintly in the light. The sheer weight of his body now felt oddly natural, but his alarm clock blaring had jolted him into a grumpy mood.

“Ugh,” he groaned, slamming the clock off with more force than necessary. “Why is everything louder now? Even that damn alarm.”

Sohyun chuckled softly, her kirin form still draped lazily across the bed. Her silver and cloud-like markings shimmered, her mane wild but elegant. She turned to face him, her voice teasing yet tender. “You know, babe, after the success of my last book, we’re pretty set financially. You really don’t need to keep dragging yourself to that boring office job.” She smirked, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “I’d much rather have you as my house husband—or my babygirl if that suits you better.”

Doflamingo’s dragon stirred, growling low in his chest. The teasing was good-natured, but his alpha instincts prickled. He wasn’t going to be anyone’s “baby girl,” even if the thought of staying by Sohyun’s side all day was tempting.

“You know what?” he said, his voice deep and commanding, the resonance of his dragon evident. “Screw that job.”

Sohyun’s laugh was rich and delighted as she watched him march over to his laptop. He quickly fired off an email to his boss, cashing out his vacation time. The decisiveness in his actions only made her kirin purr in satisfaction.

When he returned to the bed, Sohyun let out a dramatic groan, her tail flicking in protest as she noticed him gathering clothes. “Ugh, I thought you weren’t going to work today. Why are you getting dressed?”

Doflamingo smirked, shaking his head as he slipped into some comfortable jeans. “I’m not going to work, but I do need to figure out what this new life is going to look like. Being a weredragon comes with its own… complications.”

Sohyun perked up, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. Her voice was laced with excitement as she asked, “Oh? And what does figuring it out involve?”

He glanced over his shoulder, holding up his phone. “I’m scheduling an appointment with a weredragon expert.”

That caught her attention. She jumped out of bed and bounded over, her body brushing against his as she peeked over his shoulder to see the website he was browsing. Her scent—sweet and electric—wrapped around him, making his dragon rumble in approval.

“Oh,” she said, her voice brightening. “He’s a college professor. Wait, I know this guy!”

Doflamingo raised a brow, intrigued. “Do you?”

“Yeah! He came to one of my book signings.” She grinned, her kirin tail swishing behind her. “He asked some really deep questions about the abuse in therianthrope communities, like the werehyena and wereorca packs. Super passionate guy. Gave me a scathing review, though, for how I framed matriarchal customs.”

Doflamingo chuckled, turning to face her fully. “Sounds like he knows his stuff, at least. That’s what we need right now.”

Sohyun nodded in agreement but quickly shifted the topic. “But before we dive into all that, don’t forget we’ve got my parents to meet today. They’ve been dying to know when I’m finally going to settle down.” She smirked, running a clawed hand gently over Doflamingo’s chest. “And I want them to see my new alpha partner.”

He laughed, the deep rumble in his chest making Sohyun’s kirin hum in delight. “Your parents, huh? I hope they’re ready for this.”

“Oh, they’ll love you,” Sohyun assured him, her eyes sparkling. “And if they don’t, well, I do, and that’s what matters.”

The two of them exchanged a quick, affectionate kiss before setting about their morning routine. Even as they prepared for the day ahead, their natural chemistry and ease with each other shone through. Whether it was Doflamingo playfully swatting Sohyun’s tail as she teased him about his outfit, or Sohyun stealing bites of his breakfast while declaring she wasn’t hungry, the comfort and love between them were undeniable.

By the time they left the apartment, they were ready to face the world together—new challenges, nosy parents, and all.

The cafe buzzed with quiet conversation as Sohyun and Doflamingo entered, the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods filling the air. But to Doflamingo, the sensory overload was more pronounced than ever—scents, sounds, and even the faintest hum of emotions seemed amplified. His dragon thrummed beneath his skin, purring with approval as his eyes locked onto the two figures seated by the window: Sohyun’s parents.

Both alphas, Sohyun’s mother a regal wereKirin with a shimmering silver mane, and her father a stately wereGriffin whose piercing gaze seemed to cut through the room. Yet, as they turned to greet their daughter, their composure faltered.

The presence of another alpha rolled through the room like a tide. It wasn’t oppressive or overbearing, but it demanded acknowledgment. Sohyun’s parents froze momentarily, their instincts forcing them to reevaluate this newcomer. The aura was unlike anything they’d expected. It was commanding yet warm, feral yet refined.

Doflamingo.

When they’d first met him months ago, he’d been ambitious but very much human—a scrappy, determined man who exuded potential but lacked the innate authority of a true alpha. Now, that same man stood before them transformed. His aura was magnetic, his presence so grounded that even Sohyun’s parents, both experienced alphas, felt a pull toward him.

Sohyun’s mother stammered, breaking the silence as she tried to reconcile this man with the one she’d met before. “Doflamingo, you’ve… changed.”

Doflamingo smiled, the gesture as charming as ever, but there was an edge to it now—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. He shrugged casually, his voice steady and smooth. “We’re always changing, aren’t we? But yeah, I suppose I’ve been through some things. It’s not an issue, is it?”

His tone was pleasant, almost disarming, but the weight behind his words made Sohyun’s parents hesitate. For a moment, they felt like prey before a predator—a sensation they hadn’t experienced in years.

Sohyun’s father cleared his throat, trying to shake the unease. “You’re the Red Dragon Archfiend we’ve been hearing about, aren’t you?”

Both Sohyun and Doflamingo frowned in confusion before her mother explained. “There have been rumors. A human turned by a weredragon who fought tooth and nail to protect his mate. The description matches you.”

Sohyun beamed with pride, leaning slightly into Doflamingo. “Yep, that’s him. My Red Dragon Archfiend.”

Her parents exchanged a glance. Weredragons were rare and notoriously unpredictable, their power immense and their temperaments volatile. To have someone like Doflamingo, already fervent and intense, take on such a form… It was both exhilarating and terrifying to witness.

Still, they couldn’t deny the way he carried it. The strength, the confidence—it radiated from him like sunlight. Even as fear lingered in their hearts, there was a magnetic pull that left them enthralled. Sohyun’s parents found themselves unconsciously leaning into his presence more than once, unable to resist the sheer gravity of his being.

Sohyun and Doflamingo noticed the shifting emotions rolling off her parents, their scents a tangled mix of pride, fear, and awe. But it hit Doflamingo harder than he expected. His senses, sharper since his transformation, picked up every nuance, and his dragon stirred with interest.

Dragons liked power, and power was everywhere. Sohyun was powerful, of course—his equal in every way—but now, sitting across from these two dominant alphas, his dragon was curious. It wasn’t attraction in the traditional sense; it was more primal, instinctive. His body hummed with the latent desire to engage, to test boundaries, to claim.

Doflamingo found himself flirting unconsciously, his tone charming, his words laced with subtle compliments that made both Sohyun’s parents pause. Sohyun’s mother laughed at one of his remarks, her cheeks faintly flushing, while her father raised a brow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

Sohyun watched the interaction with amusement and understanding. She knew what was happening. Her mate’s dragon wasn’t tied to the rigid human constructs of attraction or preference—it was fluid, bound by power and connection. Doflamingo was still hers, fiercely loyal and devoted, but his instincts were awakening in ways that neither of them had fully anticipated.

By the time brunch ended, Sohyun’s parents had softened considerably. Their initial reservations about Doflamingo had melted away, replaced by cautious admiration. They could see he wasn’t a liability; he was an asset. And as they said their goodbyes, her father muttered, almost begrudgingly, “Maybe we were wrong about that arranged marriage idea.”

Sohyun grinned, her arm looping around Doflamingo’s as they walked out. “Told you they’d love you.”

Doflamingo chuckled, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I think your mom has a crush on me.”

Sohyun rolled her eyes but laughed. “Don’t push your luck, Red Dragon Archfiend.”

As they strolled down the street, Doflamingo felt more at ease. The swirling emotions, the shifting dynamics—it was a lot to process, but he wasn’t scared anymore. He was finally beginning to understand who he was and what he could become. And with Sohyun by his side, he knew he’d figure it out.

After leaving the café, Doflamingo and Sohyun headed to the expert’s office. The building itself was nondescript, nestled between an herbal tea shop and a quirky stationery store, but the moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was heavier, charged with a tension that made Sohyun’s inner kirin stir uneasily. For Doflamingo, though, it was different. The air felt alive, saturated with a primal energy that sent a shiver down his spine. His dragon rose to the surface, not in defiance but in silent, almost reverent recognition.

The receptionist, a sharp-eyed werefox, waved them through with a knowing smirk. “She’s been expecting you,” she said lightly. “Good luck.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off, leading the way. Doflamingo followed silently, his dragon buzzing with an almost childlike anticipation.

As they entered the spacious office, the overwhelming presence hit him like a wall of flame. The room was a curious mix of academia and mysticism—bookshelves stuffed with tomes that looked older than most civilizations, tapestries depicting ancient dragons, and artifacts that thrummed faintly with energy. But the true source of the oppressive energy wasn’t the room.

It was her.

Seated behind a massive oak desk was Dr. Park Sooyoung, a woman whose aura was like a living thing. She stood as they entered, her soft, round face framed by a sleek ponytail. She moved with an ease and confidence that spoke of centuries of experience, and her golden eyes gleamed with something ancient and all-knowing.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice deep and resonant, but with a warmth that belied her intimidating aura. “I’m Dr. Park Sooyoung, but most people just call me Joy.”

Doflamingo froze as her presence crashed into him. His dragon didn’t bristle as it had with Korvold; instead, it quieted, settling into a submissive calm he’d never experienced before. The feeling was… confusing. His dragon didn’t feel afraid or inferior—it felt safe like it was in the presence of something worthy of its respect.

“You’re a weredragon,” he blurted, his voice lower than usual, almost reverent.

Joy smirked, her gaze sharp but amused. “Very astute, Red Dragon Archfiend. Or should I say, Doflamingo?”

Sohyun tilted her head, watching the interaction with interest. There was something strange about Doflamingo’s posture—he was standing still, his shoulders slightly bowed, almost deferential. For a moment, she blinked in disbelief. Is he acting like an omega? The thought was absurd; she knew Doflamingo’s confidence and dominance well. But then she remembered his peculiar adoration for powerful and wise figures. No, she realized, it’s not submission. He’s just… drawn to her aura, like a moth to a flame.

Joy chuckled, her laugh a melodic yet sharp sound that sent shivers down Doflamingo’s spine. His dragon all but purred at the sound, and he felt his face flush.

“I’m not just any weredragon expert,” Joy continued, leaning against her desk with casual grace. “And I already know why you’re here. News of a human fighting Korvold and surviving? It travels fast. But I wasn’t expecting you to look so… fresh.”

The jab was subtle but deliberate, and Doflamingo’s dragon rumbled faintly in protest. He stiffened, his jaw clenching. “Korvold was reckless,” he said evenly. “I did what I had to do to protect my mate.”

Joy’s golden eyes flickered to Sohyun, then back to Doflamingo. Her smirk deepened, amusement flickering across her features. “Protecting your mate? Admirable. Stupid, but admirable.” Her aura pressed against his, firm yet oddly comforting.

For a moment, his mind went blank. His dragon surged forward, a low hum of approval resonating in his chest. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out:

“Well, maybe I need a strong, wise lady like you to teach me restraint.”

The room went still for a heartbeat before Sohyun groaned, covering her face with both hands. “Oh my God, Doffy?”

Joy, however, threw her head back and laughed—a sound that was both mocking and strangely approving. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. But I’m far too old for you, young one.”

Doflamingo’s lips curled into a smirk, his crimson eyes glowing faintly as his dragon murmured its agreement. “Age is just a number, isn’t it? Dragons don’t play by those rules.”

Sohyun watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment. He’s hopeless, she thought, biting back a laugh as Joy’s aura seemed to soften, her amusement genuine.

Joy regarded him for a moment longer before shifting her attention to Sohyun. “You’ve got your hands full with this one,” she said dryly.

Sohyun grinned, crossing her arms. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The conversation turned to the peculiarities of weredragons, with Joy explaining their unique dynamics—how every weredragon was born an alpha but shaped their aura differently depending on their hoard and instincts. As Joy spoke, Doflamingo couldn’t shake the magnetic pull of her presence. It wasn’t romantic or even necessarily submissive; it was awe, plain and simple.

For a fleeting moment, Sohyun wondered if his dragon was trying to form a bond with Joy. But as she watched him glance at her, his eyes softening in a way they only ever did for her, she knew the truth. His loyalty to her was unshakable. Joy’s aura might be impressive, but it would never hold a candle to the bond they shared.

By the time they left, Doflamingo was uncharacteristically quiet, his thoughts a swirling mix of awe, respect, and confusion. Sohyun broke the silence first.

The walk back from Dr. Joy’s office was filled with an air of reflection—at least for Doflamingo. For once, he wasn’t his usual self-assured, frenetic self. His gaze drifted downward, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Sohyun walked beside him, clearly waiting for him to speak first.

She finally broke the silence, nudging his arm lightly. “Alright, out with it. What’s going on in that fiery head of yours?”

Doflamingo glanced at her, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the street lamps. “I just… I felt weird in there. Like, weird.”

Sohyun tilted her head, intrigued. “Weird how? Do you mean Joy? Or the vibe of the place?”

“Both,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But mostly Joy. The second we walked in, it was like… my dragon couldn’t stop staring at her. It was like…” He trailed off, frowning as he searched for the right words. “It wasn’t just admiration or respect. It was deeper. Like, instinct.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow. “Instinct?”

“Yeah, like…” He hesitated, lowering his voice as if someone else might overhear. “For a second, I thought I was about to submit to her.”

Sohyun blinked, caught off guard. “Submit? You?”

“Yeah,” Doflamingo muttered, clearly embarrassed. “And that’s not normal for me, right? I mean, I’m a dragon now—an alpha. I don’t submit. But when she looked at me…” He exhaled sharply. “I felt small. Like she could crush me with just a thought.”

Sohyun’s lips twitched upward, though she quickly pressed them into a neutral line. “And let me guess, your dragon wasn’t mad about it.”

“Exactly!” Doflamingo said, his voice rising slightly. “It wasn’t mad. It was… content. Like it wanted to roll over and show her its belly or something. And for a second, I thought…” He trailed off again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought I might be an omega.”

At that, Sohyun couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching her stomach as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Oh my God, Doffy! An omega? You?”

He scowled, though his ears turned a faint shade of red. “I’m serious, Soho. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, waving a hand as she tried to compose herself. “It’s just—an omega? You’re the most alpha person I know. Even my parents, who are literal legends, don’t make you back down. And now you think you’re an omega because you got a little flustered around Joy?”

“It wasn’t just flustered,” he grumbled. “It was… more than that.”

Sohyun wiped her eyes, finally catching her breath. “Doffy, listen to me. You’re not an omega. You’re just… you.”

He frowned, still unconvinced. “Then why did it feel like that?”

“Because,” Sohyun said, smirking, “you’re a sucker for powerful, wise people. You always have been. And now that you’re a weredragon, your dragon is amplifying that. Joy’s not just powerful—she’s ancient. She’s everything you look up to: strength, knowledge, agency. Of course, you wanted to submit. It’s not about you being an omega—it’s about your dragon recognizing someone higher up the food chain.”

Doflamingo stared at her, processing her words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Sohyun said confidently. “It’s like joy told just told you: dragons are drawn to strength. Joy’s aura is practically screaming, ‘I’m the boss.’ Your dragon isn’t used to feeling outclassed, so it panicked and latched onto her like a baby bird imprinting on its mom.”

That image made Doflamingo groan, covering his face with one hand. “Great. Now I feel even more pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Sohyun said, her voice softening as she reached up to tug his hand away. “It’s normal, Doffy. You’re still figuring out what it means to be a dragon. And honestly? I think it’s kind of cute.”

“Cute?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “You think me almost groveling is cute?”

“Yeah,” she said with a teasing grin. “Because it shows you’re still you, deep down. You’ve always respected power and wisdom. You used to flirt with me for the same reasons, remember?”

Doflamingo blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, come on,” Sohyun said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You were totally into me when I gave that lecture on therianthrope hierarchy. You even stayed behind to ask questions you already knew the answers to, just so you could keep talking to me. Granted they were incredibly profound and probing but you love picking the brains of people who are equal or greater than you.”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but the knowing look in her eyes made him pause. “…Okay, maybe. But that’s not the same thing.”

“It’s the same thing,” she said, poking his chest. “The only difference is, now you’re a dragon, so your instincts are stronger. But it doesn’t change who you are. You’re still loyal to me. And that’s what matters.”

Doflamingo sighed, though his lips quirked up in a faint smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it,” Sohyun said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah,” he admitted, pulling her closer. “I do.”

As they continued walking, Doflamingo felt a little more at ease. He didn’t fully understand his instincts yet, but Sohyun’s insight helped him realize that he didn’t need to fight them. If his dragon wanted to admire powerful auras, so be it. At the end of the day, he was still hers—and that was all that mattered.

The day had been long, filled with miles of travel and lessons that left Sohyun and Doflamingo’s minds spinning. When they finally returned home, they fell into their usual rhythm of unwinding—Doflamingo diving into his music and Sohyun typing away at her upcoming novel. It was a peaceful ritual they shared, the perfect way to decompress after the demands of the outside world.

Sohyun leaned back on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees as her fingers moved over the keyboard. The familiar sounds of Doflamingo’s studio work filled the air—guitar riffs, drumbeats, and his low hums as he pieced together melodies. Normally, she let the instrumentals blend into the background, an ambient accompaniment to her thoughts. But tonight, something tugged at her attention.

It was his lyrics.

Her fingers paused over the keys as she listened. For the first time, she truly heard his words, catching phrases that struck a chord deep within her.

“Pushed Aside to die slow inside. Face the pain to fight another day. This can’t be it this can’t be fucking it. Will you fold or will you hold the line?”

Sohyun’s chest tightened. The weight of the words hit her harder with each line, painting a vivid picture of pain, anger, and yearning. It was like listening to the very soul of therianthropes—of people like her and Doflamingo—laid bare. Themes of alienation, persecution, and the endless struggle for acceptance coursed through every line. She had been so focused on his melodies before that she’d completely missed the depth of his storytelling.

She was furious with herself.

Her gaze snapped to Doflamingo, who was seated in his studio corner, his headphones over one ear as he adjusted levels on his drum track. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his fingers moving deftly over the controls. He looked so calm, so casual as if he hadn’t just unraveled a tapestry of raw emotion for the world to hear.

Sohyun stood abruptly, her laptop sliding off her lap onto the couch. Her feet carried her to his side before she even realized what she was doing. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped him lightly across the face.

Doflamingo jolted in surprise, his hands freezing mid-motion as he turned to her, his eyes wide with confusion. “Um… Soho? What was that for?”

She crossed her arms, her eyes blazing with intensity. “You went to that job day in and day out,” she began, her voice trembling with equal parts frustration and disbelief. “You’ve been sitting on this—this talent, this gift—and doing nothing with it?”

“I… what?” he asked, blinking at her like she’d just started speaking in tongues.

“Your music!” she said, gesturing wildly at his equipment. “Do you even realize what you’ve written here? The way you’ve captured what it means to be us? To be seen as monsters, to fight against it, to try and find a place in a world that doesn’t want us? This isn’t just a song, Doffy—it’s a masterpiece.”

Doflamingo scratched the back of his neck, clearly taken aback. “I mean… I just write what I feel. It’s not—”

“Finish it,” she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Finish that song and release it. Now.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his lips parted as if to protest. But the fire in her eyes stopped him. She wasn’t asking—she was demanding. And he knew better than to argue when she looked at him like that.

“Okay,” he said finally, turning back to his equipment. “Okay, I’ll finish it.”

Sohyun stood over him like a hawk, her arms crossed as he got to work. He adjusted levels, tweaked the mix, and refined the drumline, his fingers flying across the controls. She didn’t move, her eyes fixed on him with an impatience that spurred him to work faster.

“Almost done,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his heartbeat.

Minutes later, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. “Alright. Done. It’s ready.”

“What’s it called?” Sohyun asked, her voice softer now but still tinged with urgency.

“‘Atlas,’” he replied, his tone hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how she’d react.

She smiled—a small, satisfied smile that made his chest tighten. “Perfect. Now release it.”

Doflamingo hesitated, his fingers hovering over the upload button. “You sure about this? I mean, it’s kind of raw, and—”

“Doffy,” she said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Release. It.”

He exhaled sharply, nodded, and pressed the button. The song was uploaded under his artist name, Red Dragon Archfiend, a name he’d never expected anyone to care about but it was starting to grow on him. Yet here she was, standing beside him like his fiercest advocate.

“It’s done,” he said, leaning back with a mix of relief and nervous energy.

Sohyun beamed at him, her earlier intensity giving way to warmth. “Good. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him up from his chair. “You’ve just shared a part of your soul with the world. Let’s celebrate.”

Doflamingo let her lead him out of the room, his heart still racing from the whirlwind of her fervor. He glanced back at his studio setup, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. She led him to their bedroom and pushed him on the bed. Her gaze was furious as she said,

“You’ve been a little slut today a bratty little slut. First, you flirt with my parents, then you flirt with that sexy dragon lady yeah I found her hot too, but now I learn you have an artistic gift and you squander to work a menial office job. I’m fucking furious,” Doffy felt himself growing harder under her gaze but worried so he flared his aura to make sure she was okay. Sohyun got the marker and said.

“I’m not Angry babe, but if you don’t strip and shift right now I’ll rip your clothes off and forcibly send us both into a rut. So please strip and shift for me,” Doflamingo nodded as he complied. Sohyun purred but frowned when she noticed he was having problems shifting.

“Babe don't force,” Sohyun said as she watched noticing his body contort and not be able to shift.

“I'm sorry babe I just feel overwhelmed with everything that's happened the last two days,” Doflamingo said tensely. Sohyun nodded her eyes hazy as lust overtook her. She went behind Doffy and bent him over the bed.

“Just relax baby girl and let daddy take care of it,” Doflamingo’s heart fluttered but remained tense as Sohyun’s ardor was about to get lascivious but also intense.

Sohyun moaned as her member expanded from within her. She smiled before ramming the rod into Doffy’s ass. As she bottoms out Doffy moans his mind is cleared and he finally shifts for her as both his cocks harden at her penetration sending him into a rut. Sohyun smiles as her mate takes her full length. She spanks his ass and teases him as she fucks him, “Did my little slut like that? Did my baby girl need his daddy to clear that silly little head?”

Doflamingo whimpers as his ass tightens around Sohyun’s member. Sohyun moans as she feels the lust overtake her mate. She watches happily knowing that after she fucks him he’ll fuck her.

“God you just have juiciest sluttiest ass Doffy. I could spank and play with it all day.” Sohyun moans as tightens her grip on his pillowy ass. Doflamingo growls with lust as his mind tears between euphoria and aggression. Sohyun delights in watching her mate struggle with his impulses. She knows he wants nothing more than to submit to her but he's her alpha, not her omega he isn't just some tight hole to fuck.

So as Sohyun knots her mate filling his ass with her seed she is unsurprised when her mate is overtaken by his instincts and growls before placing her in the mating press position. Sohyun stares at her mate with an immeasurable lust that Doflamingo mirrors. His cocks throb and pulse violently in the air.

Sohyun stares into his crimson eyes as he caresses her body lovingly before sliding his smaller cock into her sopping pussy and his bigger cock into her ass. Sohyun moaned and whimpered as Doflamingo violated her. His thrusts were as wild and fiery as he was. His eyes wandered over Sohyun’s lithe body as he claimed her. Sohyun’s body readily submitted for her equal. She laughed as his cocks went deep inside of her and how they took her to new highs and fucked her rapaciously and rapidly until he couldn't take it anymore.

Doflamingo’s orgasm was as violent as a wildfire tearing through a forest it fully consumed him as his seed spewed into Sohyun’s greedy cunt, but their fervor didn't stop them… not consumed by instincts and primal ties the alphas bred each other until neither could take it anymore, by the time their ruts had finally abated they had killed an entire week and a half.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as Doflamingo and Sohyun sat on the edge of the bed, lazily getting ready to start their day. The comforting quiet between them was broken when Sohyun groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

Doflamingo glanced over, pulling a shirt over his head. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone warm and curious, though concern flickered in his eyes.

She let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “The tour starts today.”

He raised an eyebrow, sitting down beside her. “The book tour?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. “Completely forgot it was today.”

Doflamingo chuckled softly and reached over to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “Well, that’s not so bad. We’ve got time to get you ready. Let’s get you to the airport.”

Sohyun groaned again, burying her face in the pillow. “I hate being away for so long. It always feels like there’s so much going on, and I’d rather be here… with you.”

He smiled at her words, the warmth of her admission settling deep in his chest. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, Soho. I’ll be here when you get back, same as always.”

She lifted her face to look at him, her pout unmistakable. “But I hate being away from my mate. It’s unnatural.”

Doflamingo tilted his head, his grin softening into something gentler. “I get that, but think about it this way—you’re gonna meet so many people who love your books. Your words change people’s lives, Soho. That’s worth something, right?”

Her pout didn’t budge, but her eyes softened as she looked up at him. “I guess,” she muttered.

“You guess?” he teased, nudging her shoulder. “Come on. You know I’ll be cheering you on from here. And hey, maybe you can write about how much you miss me in your next novel. Make me the tragic, romantic hero or something.”

That earned a small laugh from her, and she shoved him playfully. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a grin. “But seriously, Soho, you’ve got this. And you’re not gonna be gone forever. I’ll call you every day if you want. Morning, noon, night—you name it.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, and she sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, come on. Let’s get you packed.”

It took about 45 minutes for Sohyun to get everything ready. As excited as she was for the tour, she still hated the thought of leaving him behind. She stood at the door with her luggage, glancing back at him as he grabbed his keys.

“You sure you’re okay driving me to the airport?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they headed out. “Consider it a free ride from your biggest fan.”

The ride to the airport was quiet and solemn, with Sohyun staring out the window as if committing every detail of the city to memory. Doflamingo kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting comfortably on the console, his fingers tapping idly to a rhythm only he could hear.

Every so often, he glanced at her, his disarming smile never faltering. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’ve got a little surprise for you when you get back.”

Her eyebrows lifted, and she turned to him. “What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said, his grin widening. “But I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of curiosity in them now. “You’re insufferable sometimes.”

“And yet, you love me,” he said, his voice playful.

“Unfortunately,” she said with a smirk, her mood noticeably lighter.

When they arrived at the airport, Doflamingo helped her unload her bags, refusing to let her carry anything heavy. As they stood near the entrance, the finality of their parting began to sink in. Sohyun hesitated, fiddling with the strap of her carry-on.

“Hey,” Doflamingo said gently, stepping closer. “You’re gonna be amazing out there. I know it.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “I’ll miss you,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “But you’ll be back before you know it. And when you are, I want to hear all about it. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

As she finally turned to leave, Doflamingo called after her, “Don’t forget—tragic, romantic hero. Put me in the next book!”

She laughed, shaking her head as she disappeared into the terminal. And as Doflamingo drove home, he couldn’t stop smiling, already counting down the days until she returned.

As Doflamingo watched Sohyun leave, a pang of sadness settled in his chest. This would be the longest time they’d spent apart since moving in together, and the absence was already palpable. The apartment felt quieter, emptier, without her. He shook off the feeling and told himself to stay busy.

He threw himself into his usual distractions—writing more music, playing video games, and just messing around. Hours turned into days, and during one particularly restless night, inspiration struck. With the momentum of Atlas still buzzing in the back of his mind, he picked up his guitar and began crafting a new track. This one was heavier, more aggressive—a metalcore piece he eventually titled Duel.

The song reflected the growing polarization he’d noticed in society, the friction between people who couldn’t see eye to eye, and the struggle to find one’s place amid the chaos. The lyrics came easily, pouring out of him in a raw, unfiltered flow. Duel felt cathartic, but to Doflamingo, it was just another project. Metalcore songs about sticking out and finding your place were a dime a dozen, after all. He released it without much fanfare, assuming it would be a side note in his burgeoning music career.

Days passed, and while Doflamingo busied himself with writing and gaming, his phone began buzzing with notifications. Messages flooded his social media accounts from fans, bloggers, and even music journalists. The analytics for Duel were spiking, far exceeding his expectations. People were connecting with the song in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He dismissed most of the messages at first, brushing off the requests for interviews as noise. But then one stood out—an offer from a reputable music platform, complete with a generous payment for his time. Doflamingo usually wasn’t one for attention, but the interview’s location happened to coincide with the city Sohyun would be in on the last day of her book tour. That was enough to convince him.

“Two birds, one stone,” he muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He could do the interview, catch up with Sohyun, and maybe even surprise her. The thought of seeing her again brightened his mood.

As the day approached, Doflamingo threw himself into preparations. He notified his job that he was quitting—his music was picking up enough traction that he felt comfortable leaping—and began packing for the trip. He spent his evenings imagining the look on Sohyun’s face when he surprised her, her eyes lighting up the way they always did when she saw him after time apart.

But as the tour went on, Sohyun grew busier. The calls that had once been nightly became sporadic, then almost nonexistent. Doflamingo understood, of course. She was out there changing the world with her stories, touching lives in ways that only she could. Still, the silence gnawed at him, and his inner dragon rumbled with unease, missing the soothing presence of their mate.

One evening, as he scrolled through photos of her book signings online, he caught himself smiling. There she was, vibrant and radiant, holding her own among throngs of fans. She looked like she belonged, and even though the distance stung, he felt a swell of pride.

“Soon,” he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Soon, I’ll see you again, Soho.”

The days seemed to stretch endlessly as he counted down to their reunion. When the morning of his trip finally arrived, Doflamingo stood in his living room, suitcase in hand, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. His inner dragon stirred, sensing that the wait was almost over.

With a deep breath, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, ready to face whatever awaited him—whether it was a growing music career, an unexpected interview, or simply the chance to hold his mate in his arms once more.

Sohyun sat at a long, polished table in a bustling bookstore, her pen flying across the title pages of her latest novel as fans lined up, eager for a few moments of her attention. The air was filled with the soft hum of conversation, punctuated by excited whispers and the occasional click of a camera. Despite the long day, Sohyun maintained her warm smile, greeting each person with genuine interest.

A young woman approached, clutching a worn copy of Sohyun’s first novel along with the newest release. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you!” the woman gushed. “Your books helped me so much. I used to feel so alone, but your characters… they made me feel seen.”

Sohyun’s heart softened. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said sincerely, signing the books with a flourish. “Hearing that my work resonates with people like you makes all the hard days worth it.”

The woman beamed, holding the signed books to her chest as she moved on. Sohyun sighed softly, relishing the sense of fulfillment her work gave her, even if it couldn’t fully replace the ache of being away from home.

The line continued, and Sohyun’s rhythm became automatic—sign, smile, thank, repeat—until something unexpected caught her attention. As the next fan approached the table, a familiar melody drifted through the bookstore’s speakers. She froze mid-signature, her ears zeroing in on the song.

It was Atlas.

Her heart skipped a beat as Doflamingo’s voice poured through the airwaves, raw and full of emotion. The lyrics she had heard him write in their home studio now filled the room, and for a moment, the world around her faded.

“You okay?” the fan asked, concern lacing their tone.

Sohyun blinked, snapping out of her trance, and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just—this is my boyfriend’s song,” she said, gesturing toward the speakers.

The fan’s eyes widened. “Wait, your boyfriend is Red Dragon Archfiend? That’s so cool! I’ve been hearing this song everywhere.”

Sohyun couldn’t help but grin, her chest swelling with pride. “Yeah, he’s incredible, isn’t he?”

The fan nodded enthusiastically, and Sohyun quickly finished signing their book before the line continued moving. As the song played on, she felt an overwhelming sense of joy. Doflamingo’s music wasn’t just reaching people—it was resonating with them, just like her stories did.

When the event finally ended and she stepped into the quiet of the greenroom, Sohyun pulled out her phone. She immediately dialed Doflamingo, pacing the small space as the line rang.

“Hey, Soho,” he answered, his voice warm and teasing. “How’s the glamorous life of a literary star?”

“Forget me for a second,” she said, her words tumbling out in excitement. “Your song! Atlas! I just heard it on the radio at my signing event.”

There was a brief pause before he chuckled. “You serious? That’s wild.”

“Wild doesn’t even cover it,” she said, her voice brimming with pride. “The fans were buzzing about it. Doffy people love it.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “But it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? Are you kidding me?” she countered, leaning against the wall with a smile. “You’re making waves, Doffy. And I couldn’t be prouder.”

His laugh was soft and self-conscious. “Thanks, Soho. But don’t go getting too sappy on me. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Too bad,” she teased. “Because when I get home, I’m throwing a full-blown celebration for you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “But for now, you’ve got a tour to rock. And remember, I’m your biggest fan.”

Her chest tightened with affection, and she leaned her head back against the wall. “And I’m yours,” she said softly.

As they hung up, Sohyun felt lighter than she had all day. She stepped out of the green room with renewed energy, ready to tackle the next stop on her tour. All the while, the memory of Doflamingo’s song playing for the world stayed with her, a quiet reminder of the bond they shared—even when miles apart.

The hotel room was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. Sohyun sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop perched on her thighs, a cup of tea cooling on the nightstand. She’d spent the day meeting fans, signing books, and answering questions, but now, as she stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, her mind was elsewhere. The book she was supposed to be drafting seemed to blur into the background, and the room felt just a little too empty.

She sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back against the headboard. This was the longest she’d been away from Doflamingo since they’d moved in together, and though she’d thrown herself into her work, she couldn’t help but miss him. Her fingers itched for her phone, but she knew he was probably busy too—writing, gaming, or just being his effortlessly charming self.

Reaching for the remote, she flicked on the TV, scrolling through channels aimlessly until she landed on a late-night music program. A familiar riff caught her attention, sharp and heavy, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing in recognition.

“Is that…?” she murmured, her heart skipping a beat.

The screen displayed the title Duel by Red Dragon Archfiend, and her lips parted in surprise. It was Doflamingo’s new song. She hadn’t even known he’d released another track.

The music surged through the room, raw and visceral, the powerful blend of guitars and drums carrying Doflamingo’s unmistakable voice.

“We build the walls, we draw the lines,

In this duel of yours and mine.

Through the chaos, through the fire,

Can we rise above the mire?”

Sohyun felt a chill run down her spine as the lyrics filled the room. His voice was charged with emotion, every word dripping with frustration and resolve. She could hear the depth of his message, the call to resist division and find unity in the chaos.

The chorus hit, a soaring crescendo that made her heart ache with pride.

“We stand alone, but not apart,

Seeking the light, guarding the heart.

The battle’s not to fight and win,

But to break the walls within.”

A smile broke across her face, small at first but growing as the song continued. He’d done it again—poured his soul into his music and created something incredible. She could feel him in every note, his passion, his fire, his unwavering belief in standing up for what was right.

When the song ended, she sat there in stunned silence for a moment, her emotions a swirl of pride, love, and longing. She grabbed her phone and quickly dialed his number, unable to stop herself.

It rang twice before his voice came through, slightly groggy but instantly warm. “Hey, Soho. Everything okay?”

“You didn’t tell me you dropped Duel,” she said, her voice teasing but laced with emotion.

He chuckled softly. “Figured I’d surprise you. Did you hear it?”

“I just did,” she said, her smile widening. “They played it on TV. It’s amazing, Doffy. I’m so proud of you.”

There was a pause, and she could almost hear him grinning on the other end. “Thanks, Soho. That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s not just me,” she added. “People are going to love it. You’ve got something special, you know that?”

His voice softened. “Maybe. But I’m just glad it made you smile. That’s all that matters.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she leaned back against the headboard, the longing she’d felt earlier now replaced by a deep, steady warmth. “I miss you,” she admitted quietly.

“I miss you too,” he said, his tone matching hers. “But hey two more days right?” he lied as he entered his hotel.

Sohyun hung up the phone and set it on the nightstand, sighing as she stared at the dark ceiling of her hotel room. The bed felt too big, too cold without Doflamingo beside her. Her chest tightened with the pang of missing him, and as much as she tried to focus on the fact that she’d see him soon, it wasn’t enough. She needed him now.

Without thinking too much about it, she reached for her phone again and dialed his number. It rang only once before he picked up, his deep voice filling her ears.

“Hey, babe, what’s up? Thought you were going to sleep,” he said, his tone laced with concern.

“Hey, baby,” Sohyun began, her voice low and husky, a mix of longing and something darker. “I need you.”

Doflamingo was silent for a moment, but she could hear the shift in his breathing. He knew this tone well—it was the one she used when her desires consumed her when the distance between them became unbearable. He sighed, a little frustrated but mostly amused.

“Well… this was supposed to be a surprise,” he said slowly, “but I’m going to send you an address. Take a taxi there and call me when you get there.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “A surprise, huh?”

“Yeah, just trust me. Get over here,” he said with a chuckle.

She didn’t ask any more questions, instead grabbing her bag and heading downstairs. The taxi ride was short but felt like an eternity as her mind raced with possibilities. When they pulled up to the address, she stepped out, staring at the tall, modern hotel in front of her.

“Another hotel?” she muttered to herself as she walked through the automatic doors.

The lobby was sleek and bustling with activity despite the late hour. Sohyun’s sharp eyes scanned the space until they landed on a familiar figure standing near the reception desk, his back to her. Doflamingo was casually leaning against the counter, his tall frame unmistakable even in the crowd. He was wearing his favorite leather jacket, the one she always teased him about, and his hair was slightly tousled as though he hadn’t bothered to fix it properly.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Doffy?” she called out softly, her voice trembling with both surprise and relief.

He didn’t hear her over the chatter and soft music in the background, so she did the only thing that felt right—she ran. Her feet carried her across the lobby, and before she could stop herself, she tackled him in a fierce hug from behind.

Doflamingo stiffened in surprise, spinning around to face his attacker, only to see Sohyun clinging to him. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. She’d cut her hair shorter since he’d last seen her, and it framed her face perfectly. There was something strikingly powerful about her tonight—her usual graceful poise replaced with a more commanding presence.

“Sohyun?” he asked, blinking. Then his nose caught her scent, rich and intoxicating, flooding him with desire.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she demanded, though her voice lacked any real anger. She tightened her hold on him, burying her face against his chest.

Doflamingo chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “It was supposed to be a surprise, remember? You weren’t supposed to find out until tomorrow.”

“Well, surprise,” she said, pulling back slightly to look up at him. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and the faintest hint of a smirk played on her lips.

He grinned down at her, his usual cocky demeanor slipping as the raw adoration he felt for her took over. “I didn’t expect you to tackle me in the middle of the lobby,” he teased, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I missed you,” she admitted, her voice softening.

“I missed you too, babe,” he replied, his voice dipping into a low growl as his grip on her tightened. His eyes darkened as he caught another wave of her scent, and his inner dragon stirred restlessly.

As Sohyun squeezed Doflamingo in the hotel lobby, her senses immediately picked up on something different. His presence felt… amplified. The moment her arms wrapped around him, she was hit by the intensity of his aura—stronger, sharper, more commanding than ever before. It wasn’t just the comforting warmth she was used to; it felt like standing in the eye of a storm, a force of nature barely restrained.

When he turned to face her, she saw it in his eyes, too—a fierceness that seemed to glow beneath his usual mischievous gaze. She blinked, momentarily stunned, before whispering, “Doffy… what’s going on with you?”

He tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your aura,” she said, stepping back slightly to get a better look at him. Her hands lingered on his chest, feeling the faint vibration of his energy. “It’s stronger. Like… you’ve evolved or something. It wasn’t like this before I left.”

Doflamingo blinked, then chuckled softly. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly, her alpha instincts kicking in. She could sense the change as clearly as if it were etched into his skin. “You’ve grown, Doflamingo. You’ve leveled up.”

He scratched the back of his head, a little sheepish despite the confidence that always seemed to radiate from him. “Well… I have been working on myself while you were gone. Writing music, pushing my limits. Maybe it’s all starting to pay off.”

Sohyun smiled, her eyes scanning him with a mix of pride and awe. “It’s not just paying off. You’re on a whole new level. I can feel it. It’s like… you’re stepping into your power.”

Her words struck something deep within him. Doflamingo had always been confident in his abilities, but hearing her acknowledge his growth made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I guess it helps when you’ve got someone like you to inspire me,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

Sohyun’s heart swelled, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “You’ve been doing this on your own, Doffy. And it’s amazing. I’m proud of you.”

Doflamingo’s grin returned, wider and brighter than ever. “Thanks, babe. But I’m not done yet.”

Sohyun smirked, her alpha confidence meeting his energy. “Good. Because I think you’ve still got more in you.”

Before Sohyun could say another word, Doflamingo leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he growled, “Follow me to my room. I need you now.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled, her alpha confidence shining through as she nodded. “Lead the way.”

Without another word, Doflamingo grabbed her hand and guided her toward the elevators, their connection palpable and undeniable. As the elevator doors closed, Sohyun couldn’t help but marvel at how this man—her mate—always found a way to surprise her, even when she thought she knew everything about him.

When she entered his room she smiled. Finally wrapped around his familiar scent and aura she purred with delight so much so she couldn't feel the lust emanating from her mate. In her trance of pleasure, she barely noticed how he ripped her white t-shirt open and grabbed at her breasts or how he growled as he stole another kiss from her lips. She just basked in his closeness until his voice rang out “Take your jacket and pants off now,”

Coming out of her trance she moans as Doffy kisses her neck and gently massage her breasts. Realizing how much they needed each other Sohyun takes her red jacket and pants off.

Unable to control themselves they shift as they kiss, thankfully this was a therianthrope hotel so the beds and furniture were built with their strength in mind.

Sohyun moans as she feels Doflamingo’s hands run all over her body. How he grips her breasts running his hands all over her body. She smirks as she feels his cocks harden under her.

“You look like sex,” Doflamingo moaned in between kisses unfamiliar with his shifted form’s long forked tongue however caused his s sounds to slur to almost a hiss. It made Sohyun purr with delight as her hands rolled over his crimson-scaled body. Eventually, Doflamingo can’t take it anymore and begins stroking his cocks to prep himself. Sohyun smiles and says

“What are you waiting for big guy? Fucking rail me!”

Sohyun’s slitted eyes dilate as she watches Doffy slowly push his smaller cock inside of her pussy. She moans uncontrollably as the bigger one approaches her other hole.

“Fuck Doffy put both in my pussy. Fuck! Give it to me,” she moans before Doffy rams his cocks in her pussy. Sohyun clenches around him as she tries to process her new sensations. Overwhelmed by the pleasure Sohyun moans as she cums all over Doffy’s cocks not long before Doffy follows suit. As their bodies relax from their expedited orgasms they fall into the bed. Sohyun purrs as stares wantonly at Doffy’s cocks. She reaches out slowly to massage the smaller one and watches Doffy squirm as his body jerks in her hands.

“Okay, so this is the sensitive one.”She says happily. “You’ve been cumming so much I wondered which cock was the one that drives you feral with lust.” She adds happily Doflamingo growls as he fights both his lust and fatigue. Seeing this Sohyun relents and lets him go to sleep.

“Sorry big guy,” she coos as the couple cuddle throughout the night.