#because it's part of the fic even if it's not part of this chapter

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 6

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 6 🔞

Word Count: 6110

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Just a little heads up for the first scene 🔞 the rest is SFW! Also, doesn't it feel right for Doffy to slip in a few words of Spanish every now and then? I'm sure I've seen people do that in x reader fics (it's not new!) and maybe that's why it feels right...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil

Masterlist

|Chapter 5|

-*- Start of 🔞 -*-

Law closes the door to the bathroom and locks it. Now that he's alone he lets himself lose a sliver of his control. He slumps against it softly and closes his eyes, ragged breaths leaving his parted lips. 

He went too far. 

He didn't mean to make you come, he just wanted to tease you. But your face, your whimpers, your heat… it was all too much for him to handle. He needed to feel you close, to have you wrapped around him and holding him like a vise. He gave in. He shouldn't have. 

He kicks his sneakers away and unbuttons his jeans with a soft groan, finally freeing his bulging cock. He got rock hard as soon as he started to touch you. He can usually prolong the teasing as far as he wants without getting this turned on himself. 

But your whimpers… the way you gave up and begged, your willingness to let him do what he wants to you. It's all too much and yet, he is well aware that it will never be enough. He got a taste and now he’s obsessed. 

Turning the shower on cold and removing the rest of his clothes, he hisses as soon as the water hits his back. He needs to regain his control. He shouldn't have gone this far, he'll have to apologise to you. 

But for now, not even the icy water can take away the sound of your mewls in his ears, the way your lips part willingly for him and the way your flesh moulds easily in his hands. 

“Fuck!” He curses softly as he punches the wall of the shower in frustration. Closing his eyes, his hand finds his cock throbbing and he palms it. A gentle squeeze and then a rougher one. He imagines you on your knees, willingly opening your mouth for him, your small, warm hands grabbing his length and licking it from top to bottom, your sweet eyes holding his gaze. 

“Yes, sweetheart, good girl.” He mumbles against his teeth as his hand bobs up and down. He won't need much stimulation. He'll unravel just as easily as you did earlier. The tension between both of you is so thick that it's crushing. 

He groans and tenses, he's so close. 

He wasn't lying about your love story. Maybe it's not love yet, but it's something he hasn't felt in a while. You're special, you make him happy. 

His hips thrust forward, faster against his hand as he pumps himself in a maddening rhythm. He's now picturing you squirming beneath him, your lips chanting his name in abandon, your whole body clenching his. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It's not just attraction and want. 

He comes with a muffled grunt, his viscous seed spilling against his stomach, his hand and dripping down the drain of the shower. His breaths are uneven and the ice-cold water does nothing to break this heat. 

It's not just attraction and want. It's so much more. 

-*- End of 🔞 -*-

You sit on the armchair as soon as Law enters the bathroom. Your heart is still beating out of sync, you're still breathless and a haze fills your brain. 

How did he make you come undone so easily? He didn’t even need to properly touch you. What kind of spell does he have on you?

As you get up, trying to shake away all the lingering feelings of his touch and lips on your body, you remember how he couldn’t even look into your eyes afterwards. You shouldn’t have let go so easily. Maybe he wanted you to last longer. You didn’t discuss orgasms in your boundaries, but, as you ruled out sex, you didn’t realise that it might happen with just teasing. 

You can’t help but think that you’ve, somehow, crossed some kind of unspoken barrier. You’ll need to apologise to him. 

And you both might need to make your boundaries clearer. 

It’s not that you mind what happened. You don’t regret it and you wouldn’t mind at all if it happened again. But if he’s not comfortable with it, it needs to be spoken about. 

Sighing heavily, you stare at your clothes, about to choose something to wear to dinner, but you don’t know what to wear. Is it formal? Casual? Are jeans too casual but a cocktail dress too formal?

You’re about to sit back down again, your tablet already open on your trusted spreadsheet to distract you, while you wait for Law to come out of the bathroom so he can tell you what clothes would be appropriate, when the door opens. 

He has a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and still dripping against his tattooed torso and you have to swallow hard before you start to drool. His eyes meet yours for a brief second and you can already tell how much collected he is since your earlier interaction.

“I didn’t grab any clothes before hitting the shower.” He says, to justify his state of undress.

“It’s alright, I was just wondering what I was supposed to wear. Is dinner formal? Casual?” Your voice is still altered and on edge, too high-pitched to be your normal tone and you’re sure he picks up on it.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he opens his bag to fish out some clothes. “Dinner in this household is always a formal event. Though you are fine with semi-formal clothes.” Immediately your eyes rake the closet for what dresses you packed. There are some that fit the description so you should be fine.

“I shouldn’t have gone too far. It wasn’t my intention.” Your head whips back at him. He’s scratching the back of his neck - still undressed - and has a conflicted expression on his face. Though he can hold your gaze now. 

A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you turn and shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay. It was my fault I… I got too caught up in the moment and-...”

“You don’t have to apologise for feeling pleasure.” His voice drags and envelops you. There’s a sense of safety in his words, a lack of judgement for any and all of your actions. Suddenly it hits you:

As controlling as he tends to be in these intimate settings - domineering even - he makes you feel free. You can be yourself. You can be whatever you need to be and he’ll accept you with open arms. For who you are.

And that is very new, uncharted territory.

Because with Ichiji you were always trying to be someone you were not. Faking your happiness, your likes and dislikes, just faking!

With Law…

It’s simple. So, so simple. 

And this realisation makes your breath hitch, leaving you speechless and winded. Even from where you’re standing, you can see the way Law’s jaw clenches and ticks as he takes in your reaction with calculated measures. 

“I won’t do it again. We never have to go that far again, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” Is that regret or sadness in his voice?

You shake your head with vigour. He’s got it all wrong. Yet you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth at this moment. Your throat is tight with tension. It has been some time since you have felt validated and actually heard. It’s silly, heck, it’s silly as hell, but the simplest things are the ones that trigger you the most. 

Law approaches you tentatively, he can probably sense something is wrong but the all-too familiar crease wrinkling his brows tells you he thinks he’s the cause of this tension. And he is, but for all the right reasons. 

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, taking a step back even before fully reaching you. 

“No.” You finally find your voice, though it’s still trembling and weak. “I’m not hurt, or ashamed, or angry, or anything like that!” You let your eyes meet his, a blush on your cheeks and a soft smile tugging at your lips. “It just hit me that I can be exactly who I am with you. And that’s okay. I don’t need to pretend anymore.” Then you chuckle, a snort following your outburst. “I mean, we are pretending, but between you and me… I… well, I can’t quite explain it, but it’s good. I’m feeling good! Because of you.”

The sigh that escapes his lips is soft and full of relief. 

“I don’t need to understand completely. As long as I didn’t make you uncomfortable. As long as you’re happy.”

You nod with another smile and he returns to his hunt for clothes while maintaining a close eye on you. 

“Law.” You whisper, not looking at him while you too select the clothes you’re going to wear before heading towards the bathroom. “You said you wouldn’t do it again but… I…” He’s silent. He’s going to make you say it.

Somehow you know he’ll always make you say what you want, express your desires and needs. He wants to hear you. 

Wait, always? That’s too long…

“I won’t mind if you… do it again. Nothing’s changed. No boundaries were added. At least on my part.” You briefly look at him. He’s wearing a smug smirk on his lips, just a raised corner of his mouth as his amber gaze pierces you. “Do you-...” 

“No boundaries added.” He interrupts you and you nod. Already that familiar heat is starting to pool in your belly again. All the possibilities are still open. 

And you’re willing to take them with open arms.

-*-

The air between you has cleared and everything is back to normal. You're both showered and dressed and ready to go mingle with family and close friends. There's still a bit of time before you're expected downstairs so you're sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed, with the tablet open in front of you, your notebook on the side and you're chewing on the end of your pen, mouthing facts and curiosities about Law in order to memorise them. 

Law has been sitting in the armchair across from you for about ten minutes. His chin resting against his knuckles and eyes fixed on you, watching your every move. 

“Are you nearly done?” His voice chimes with amusement. 

“Not even close.” You mumble and sigh, opening your arms and falling back to face the ceiling. “I'm so nervous. I'm so doomed. Law, I don't want to fail you.” You drape your arm over your eyes for dramatic effect. 

Your whine is both desperate and frustrated. You think you're ready for all the personal questions anyone sends your way, and even if there's something amiss, you've only been ‘dating’ for two months! It's completely believable. 

However, before you can rally and say you're prepared, you feel pressure on your ankles and Law pulls you towards the edge of the bed, dragging you close to him. Leaning on his arms, which he places on each side of your head, he stares at your eyes deadpan. 

“You're ready. You've got this. We've got this.” His gaze doesn't waver and he's hovering very, very close to your face. So you just nod. His presence is too intense for anything other than that. “Use your words, sweetheart. Do you have this?”

“I've got this.” You whisper. 

“Good.”

For a second it almost looks as if he's going to kiss you, but he backs away and a feeling of dread in your stomach makes you wonder if something’s really changed after what happened earlier. The second after, you’re chastising yourself. Nothing’s changed because there’s nothing to change. You’re nothing to each other. Period.

You’re helping him in a tricky family situation and he’s helping you with your over-controlling issues. Nothing else.

“Let's go.”

-*-

You end up choosing a beautiful cocktail dress that is not overly formal but is not as casual as a summer dress and, after fixing your hair and dress again - from having been dragged by Law on top of the bed - he assures you that you look stunning and you both leave the room. 

Law's dressed in black jeans, a white dress shirt - half open to show off his tattoos - and a blazer. You sigh. You can't get enough of his sexiness. 

He extends his hand for you to take and you can't help a small smile from curling your lips. This does feel like a real relationship, so you need to keep reminding yourself that it's all fake. You can't fall in love with Law over a fake relationship. 

Wait, fall in love? Where did that come from? 

Law leads you through corridors and halls and, slowly, his demeanour becomes charged again. The usual scowl in place, the familiar creasing in his forehead. It's like he's a different person around his uncle, so much more guarded. So much more unattainable. When you reach the stairs to descend to the hall where all the guests are mingling before heading towards the dining room, Law lets go of your hand and places it on your lower back instead. 

“It's showtime.” He mutters softly as you begin descending. You can feel all the eyes turning towards you, it seems like everyone is already gathered downstairs. 

Baby 5 is the first to approach you, a big smile on her face as she drags a taller man with an annoyed expression on his face towards you. “Cousin Law! I've missed you!” She tries to hug him but Law grunts and refuses, making you chuckle. “This is Sai! My husband-to-be! Isn't he handsome?” She says dreamily. Sai doesn't seem too thrilled to be here at all, but when their eyes meet, you can see how his gaze softens. There might be love under all that gruffness after all.  

Law clasps the man's hand and shakes it, then introduces you to them. 

“Hello, it's very nice to meet you, and congratulations on your nuptials.” You say with a smile. “You make the most wonderful couple.”

Baby 5 is delighted with you. “Oh, Law! She's wonderful!” When Law looks at you to confirm her words, you somehow find his eyes softening as well, but he's interrupted before he can say anything. 

“Trafalgar, it's been a while since I've seen you.” A blonde man with prominent scars on his face and a wide grin approaches. He speaks to Law but his eyes linger on you. “Baby 5 is right, your friend is wonderful.”

Law's scowl becomes more pronounced, his hold on your back tightens and he pulls you closer. “It's girlfriend, Bellamy.”

Bellamy chuckles and raises his hands in apology before you and Law move on to greet other guests. There are some board members Law said would be present and they're an odd bunch - Trebol, Diamante, Pica and Vergo are their names. The bridesmaid, Sugar, looks really young but Law tells you she's just two years younger than Baby 5. A groomsman, Buffalo and, of course, Doffy and Cora. The bride says that the rest of the wedding party will only arrive tomorrow so it's quite an intimate affair. 

To you, it is anything but intimate. It's intimidating. Doflamingo keeps watching you and Law like a hawk, waiting for some kind of slip-up; his associates are already trying to whisk Law away, though he manages to postpone business talk until after dinner; and Bellamy keeps leering at you. 

When Cora cheerfully announces that it's time to head to dinner, you close your eyes briefly and take a deep shaky breath. Law notices your discomfort and lingers behind, letting the guests enter the dining room ahead of you. 

Then, he turns you towards him, his fingers grazing your ear and then your earring, trailing down your neck as you sigh. The signal. “If this were real,” he whispers near your ear so only you can hear, “you wouldn't have to feel nervous. You'd know I would be there at your side every step of the way. You'd count on me.”

Law's eyes bore into yours as his hands cup your cheeks in an intimate gesture. It’s so comforting that you have to keep repeating in your head that this is all fake and that he just used the signal! Then, you nod in acknowledgment of his words. “I do, Law. I count on you. I trust you.” You don't need to use the signal for your words, they're not fake, they're the absolute truth. You spy Doflamingo watching you from the doorway and Law must have seen him too, because he leans forward and gives you a small peck on the cheek. The small smile on your lips that follows his gesture is also something that is completely true. 

Law clasps your hand in his to lead you to the dining room but Doflamingo still looms on the threshold, observing both of you closely, his arms crossed over his chest and a huge grin on his face. “Law, princesa. I hope you had an agreeable rest, earlier.” 

You blush at his words. It's almost as if he knows something happened between you, but he can't know, right? It's just a silly guess. “Yes, Uncle, very agreeable. The car ride was quite tiring.” Law pulls you but Doflamingo steps forward, cutting your path and staring directly into your eyes. 

“And you, cariño?” A shiver runs down your spine as you face the intensity of his stare and your heart rate accelerates dramatically.  

“Yes, sir. Very agreeable, thank you.” You can't help but notice how small and meek your voice sounds under his scrutiny. Doflamingo really is someone who demands respect. 

“Hmm…” He starts, holding a hand against his chest, and then whispers. “Careful, you're making me like you. You're really something.” Without taking his eyes off yours, he addresses Law. “You better keep a good hold on this one, Law. I might steal her too.”

Law growls, his calm facade showing a few cracks before he pulls you inside so you can find your seats. There’s no chance to ask him what his uncle meant now, the room is too crowded, and there’s no telling who could be listening.

But what could he mean about stealing you too? What happened? With whom? It feels like this is something you should be privy to, especially because Doflamingo keeps hinting at something. You make a mental note not to forget to address this with Law once both of you are alone. 

The dining room is, like everything else in this house, grand and opulent, screaming wealth and fortune. Enormous chandeliers hang from the ceiling, shadowing the massive table. Beautiful china adorns it, along with vases of flowers and the most stunning silverware. It’s all so beautiful.

Law finds your seats and holds the chair for you, helping you get comfortable. He’s by your side, Sugar on your other side and Bellamy directly in front of Law. Cora sits at one end of the table, next to Law, and Doflamingo is on the other end, carefully watching every exchange with his observant gaze. 

Bellamy keeps stealing glances at you and Law’s scowl deepens even more. His hand rests on your thigh under the table, and even though no one can see it, it’s a definitive claim to you. He’s acting possessive, and it stirs something within you.

Is it all fake? 

The meal begins and everything seems to be flowing smoothly now. Baby 5 is a regular chatterbox and, being at Bellamy’s side, she alone holds the entire conversation for the majority of dinner. Every now and then, she asks you something or other about your relationship, nothing of much importance and all things you and Law have already rehearsed.

You feel a sense of peace and calmness washing away your earlier anxiety. It seems as if you were dreading this dinner for nothing. If the rest of the weekend goes as smoothly as this meal, you’ll both be perfectly fine. 

But the wine has been flowing freely. You and Law have been restrained and switched to water long ago. Neither of you wants to get drunk and ruin the pretence, but the other guests are more at ease. And that fact is quite clear when Bellamy decides to stare directly at you. His gaze unmoving and his grin wide.

You begin to shift uncomfortably in your chair, wishing for this dinner to end so you can all get up, but dessert is still being served so it will be another half-hour, at least.

Law senses your discomfort and leans into your ear, you lean towards him as well and when he speaks, his whisper tickles your ear and sends shivers down your spine. “Relax. I’ll put him in his place.” His hand reaches up as he caresses your ear and earring using your signal. “You’re mine, and I’ll let him know soon enough that I don’t share.”

The word ‘mine’ sends a different kind of shiver up your spine. One that lingers. One that burns. It travels through your veins like molten lava and settles low in your core, a thrum beating at the same unholy rhythm as your heart. 

You can only nod as Law pulls back.

Another moment passes as you receive your dessert and engage in a bit of girl talk with Sugar and Baby 5 about wedding dresses, but you can still feel the burning, lingering gaze of Bellamy upon you. It’s disconcerting.

Law places his hand on your thigh again, making sure Bellamy sees the gesture, before facing him with a sly smirk. “Bellamy,” his tone is casual, though thick with tension. “Is there something you would like to say to my girlfriend? You keep staring. It’s rude.”

The chatter around you silences as people close to you follow the exchange. Bellamy’s grin falters a bit as he shifts and adjusts his seat in the chair. He wasn’t expecting Law’s confrontational question. 

“I just like to look at pretty things, Law. Didn’t know it was a crime.” He leans back, hands in the air, to excuse his behaviour. 

Law’s smirk never falters, his touch is unwavering. His tone, however, speaks of annoyance and defiance. “Oh, I know she’s pretty. More than that, she’s stunning. But it’s not just about looking, is it, Bellamy? It’s about intent. And yours seems very, very misplaced.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you see, from the corner of your eye, Doflamingo watching you attentively, though the rest of the table on his side is pretty oblivious to what is happening around you. 

“Come on, man, relax. Drink some more wine. Looking doesn’t do any harm.” Bellamy lets out a nervous chuckle.

“It does when you’re looking at something that doesn't belong to you. You should learn to keep your gaze away from what is mine.” He nearly growls the word.

That word again. Your breath hitches and you bite your lower lip. You can’t help but feel safe and protected near Law. A bright flush spreads through your cheeks and you take a sip of water to try and calm yourself. Law’s hand on your leg squeezes and you take a deep breath. 

Yet the fire in you burns hotter.

“Alright, alright. Geez, man, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Bellamy adds, though his smug grin says otherwise.

“Good. We’re clear then.” Law’s gaze is unwavering and he doesn’t stop piercing his amber eyes into Bellamy’s until the blonde looks somewhere else. 

You can’t help but hear Law’s voice saying ‘mine’ over and over again in your head, just like a song on repeat. 

-*-

Finally dinner comes to an end, but it’s still far too early in the night to retire and you are all ushered by a smiling Cora to a lounge with a bar where you can have a few more drinks and let conversation flow.

After all, some guests are having fun.

Law leads you with a firm hand on your lower back, but you can feel some strain in his countenance, and you quickly understand why when one of Doflamingo’s associates beckons him over to a table. 

Law groans, facing you. “I need to take care of some business with those oafs over there.” Then he sighs as he uses the signal on your earring again. Leaning in, he presses his lips to yours, a very chaste kiss to share in public. A kiss that doesn’t fail to send tingles all over your skin and burn in more places than it should. Law whispers: “If this were real, you wouldn’t need to worry if I were away from you. I’d be imprinted so hard on your body, mind and soul, that you wouldn’t even miss me.”

His words never fail to make you shiver. The intensity with which he delivers them is so powerful that, for a brief moment, you’re fooled into thinking he actually means it. Just a brief moment, though. “I’ll be alright. We’re in the same room. What can happen that is so terrible?”

Law’s scowl is back in an instant and his gaze flickers towards Doflamingo. “Much can happen. But I won’t allow it.” Another peck and he turns his back on you to meet with the men who have already called him again.

You sigh, locate Bellamy, still gazing at you, and decide to go to the complete opposite side of the room. Luckily Baby 5 and Sugar gather near you and you manage to distract yourself with the girls. Time goes by rather fast, in contrast to what happened during dinner and in the blink of an eye, Law is back by your side. But he's still sporting that tense scowl. 

“I just came to check on you.” Baby 5 and Sugar are listening so he keeps the pretence, however, he doesn’t use the signal. “Wouldn't want you to think I've abandoned you.” 

Your smile is genuine as you grab his hands. “It's alright, Law. I'm in good hands.” He squeezes and the way he's looking at you makes something flutter in your stomach. 

You are suddenly reminded that you both discussed physical boundaries, but never emotional ones. Should you? Because this soft look he's giving you could be far more dangerous to your heart than a heated touch. 

“You guys are so cute. I wish I could just turn you into plushies and have you on my bed.” Sugar says, her eyes sparkling with emotion. 

Well that certainly cuts the emotional tension in the bud. Law rolls his eyes and you chuckle. “I'm just going to get a drink and go back there. It won't be long now, they're discussing a new merger and want to make sure everyone on the board approves.”

You sigh, your lower lip inadvertently pouting a bit. Why must he talk business at a family meeting? 

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your lip. “That's cute.” He murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “See you soon.” His hand lingers on your lip before releasing with another longing sigh from you. 

You excuse yourself to go to the restroom and when you return, Baby 5 and Sugar are nowhere to be seen. They must have had some last minute wedding stuff to attend to, but now you feel oddly out of place. Law doesn't acknowledge your entry, too entangled in a heated conversation with Vergo, his expression very guarded. Something must not be going very well with the discussions. You're thirsty, so you swing by the bar - complete with a bartender - and ask for a virgin mojito, while leaning slightly on the counter to stretch your back. 

“Lovely accent, mi querida.” Doflamingo’s drawl makes your breath hitch and you turn towards his voice, a deer-in-headlights expression on your face. You look for Law, but his uncle is standing right in your line of sight and he's so big that you doubt Law knows you're there. He probably still thinks you're in the bathroom. 

“Thank you, sir.” You whisper to him, accepting the drink from the bartender with a strained smile and taking a step back. 

His grin widens, turning wicked and you take a sip of the cold drink to distract yourself from his sharp, piercing gaze. Doflamingo accepts his glass of red wine without a ‘thank you’ or any sort of acknowledgment to the bartender, his eyes never leaving you. 

“You're interesting.” He states once again. “Makes me wonder why you're in a relationship with my nephew.” His tone is inquisitive. He's probing, you have to sell this, you're prepared. You just need to forget how extremely intimidating he is. 

“I'm in a relationship with Law because we fell in love, sir. It's as simple as that.” You say, like it's the most obvious statement in the world. Then you set down your drink and grasp the counter to stop the shaking of your hands. 

He tuts and sighs dramatically. “Nothing regarding love is ever just simple.” Then he takes another step, further invading your space. “Is it?”

You stand your ground, trying not to feel intimidated. “With us it is. We want to be together. I want to be with Law.” Why are you being so defensive? Is he going to read through your act? You desperately want Law to see you, to come to you. Maybe even Cora? But Cora was also engaged in that discussion and, thinking about it, shouldn't the head of Donquixote Enterprises also be there? Why was he taunting you instead? 

“You don't know what you want yet, princesa. Trust me.” He says. His grin widens and he leans his head forward, whispering in your ear. “Law is too soft for you. His words are too gentle, his touch is too sweet.” Doffy’s breath feels hot in your ear and you want so desperately to pull back, but you don’t want to give him that advantage over you. “Law doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. I saw how you behaved when he was acting possessive at the table. I understand you, I know what you want. And you need more than he can offer.”

Somehow his voice drops even lower, a predatory whisper that manages to bristle all the hairs on your body. “I can make you feel what it’s like to be completely owned. You’d learn quickly where you belong.” His whisper burns your skin, but the shivers running through you are as cold as ice. “Under me, or on your knees, I would bend your will with just one look. I know what you crave.”

He’s challenging you, pushing you to your limits with crass words and rude behaviour. Law told you he was inappropriate but, somehow, you didn’t expect this much. It’s terrifying, even.  

“You don’t know me.” The murmur that leaves your lips is barely heard, your voice trembles and your lip shakes, but you don’t want to be disrespectful, so you add something: “Sir.” 

His hand reaches out, and he tucks a strand of hair out of your face as he hums in satisfaction. “But I know your kind, cariño. You’re all after power. I can give you that.” You try to pull back, to step away from him and his velvety words, but he grabs your forearm, his touch commanding and domineering, making your breath hitch in your throat. “If I were with you, mi querida, I wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over the nearest surface and remind you of who you belong to. I know that’s what you most desire, to be brought to your knees with a simple look. Not to be coddled by my nephew.”

You purse your lips to suppress a gasp as his fingers dig into your skin, his grin widening into a manic smile. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to fight for air, or to find the right words. You can barely think, he scares you. He pushes you and bends you and you just don’t want to break under pressure.

You don’t have time, however, to think of a good answer because you feel a pull at your waist as a familiar safe sensation invades you and you can breathe again. “Is there something I can help you with, Uncle Doffy?”

Law’s voice is low and calm. His usually controlled demeanour takes over, however, the crease in his forehead is deep and pronounced and there’s a lingering rage underneath the surface. Doflamingo releases your arm and you wince, slipping closer to Law, moulding to the side of his body easily. 

“Not at all, Law. I was just getting acquainted with your lovely novia. There’s no need to be so possessive, is there?” He smirks as he leans back, taking a casual sip of his drink while his eyes still linger over you. 

Law’s jaw clenches and he lets out a low growl, but Doflamingo continues. 

“It’s funny,” he chuckles long and low, “it reminds me of a different time, long ago. Remember, Law? Back when you thought loyalty and love were something you could not buy?”

You’re not quite sure where Doflamingo is going with his speech, but Law’s hold on you tightens and he pulls you even closer. “That’s not important tonight, Doffy.”

“But I think it is, Law. You see, I thought I had taught you better than this. Yet it seems as if you haven’t learned. You keep seeking women who need more than you can offer. Something your soft words cannot provide. Must I teach you again what power does a firmer hand and money hold? How easy it is to make someone… change allegiances?” His eyes are menacing as he alternates between you and Law. 

You’re still very lost as to what they are referring to, yet he is getting under Law’s skin. You’ve never seen Law this discomposed. He’s almost baring his teeth at his uncle, his eyes darkening as his fingers dig deep into your waist, they will certainly bruise. 

“That’s enough, Uncle.”

“Women who seek a little power are all the same, Law.” Doflamingo’s smirk drops and he straightens up, his figure imposing as he stares at Law. “You once thought love was all it took, but all I had to do was wave a few bills. Let’s see just how long this one holds, I’m actually very interested in the challenge.” 

He speaks as if you’re not there. It’s a personal agenda he and Law have and you can almost see the tension building around them. For a sliver of a moment, Law’s mask of perfect control slips and a soft vulnerability rattles him, like he’s considering his uncle’s words. 

“Every woman has a price, Law. Whether it’s monetary, or just power and influence. I have it all.”

The way Law pulls you to him makes you wince, but you don’t pull back, it’s like they barely know you’re there. 

“Don’t compare them, Doffy.” He says your name through gritted teeth. “She and Monet are not the same.”

Monet? Who is she? Law didn’t tell you about her, though from what you can grasp of the conversation, it seems as if she was someone Law loved. And Doffy lured her away. 

How twisted.

Doflamingo leans in, his face inches away from Law’s, but he doesn’t flinch. “You know something I’ve learned, Law, is that the more I rattle you, and the more paranoid and possessive you get… the easier it becomes to steal your toys.” The manic grin on Doflamingo’s face widens before he finally falls back. He finishes his wine glass and decides to call an end to this taunting session. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Law is left staring at the spot where his uncle just stood. His face is a mix of emotions, something you’ve never witnessed before. He’s beyond rattled, he’s on the verge of losing the control he normally possesses. 

He’s still gripping you tight and it’s beginning to be unbearable, so you place your hand on his chest, trying to get him to look at you. “Law?” He doesn’t respond immediately, his throat bobbing up and down, clearly trying to regain control of his emotions. “Law you’re hurting me.” You say softly and that makes him come back.

“Sorry!” He releases you in haste, the hand that was holding you tousling his hair as he lets out a loud sigh. Then he clasps your hand in his and pulls you. “Let’s go.”

You follow him blindly. A myriad of questions burning at the back of your mind. Why does Doflamingo rattle him so much? And why is he so adamant about breaking Law? Who was Monet? What did she mean to Law? 

But mostly… is she still important to him?

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 8 | An Aeon

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^

Previous | Fic Masterlist | Next

When you wake up, your mind feels kind of fuzzy. Almost as if you were missing something.

“Something the matter?”

You felt your soul leave your body at the sudden voice causing him to laugh. Snapping your head to the side, you noticed it was the man from before. The one who erased your death- wait, your death? And that was when it hit you. You couldn’t remember how you died or the pain that you felt. It was like-

“It never even happened?”

You gave him a weary look, causing him to chuckle softly at both your expression and how you were acting.

“There is no need to fret, you know? I am not going to hurt you.”

“What- what are you doing here?”

You ended up ignoring his lighthearted words and gestured to the library. You were still on the couch, and the book you were holding had fallen to the floor.

The man mused to himself, his smile light and warm.

“I suppose it was quite rude of me to task you finding my name.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because my name hasn’t existed in the sense that you know of.”

“…I don’t understand.”

Sunday turned a little and patted his lap. Despite not remembering your death, you did remember how you met him. So you crawled to him, moving some of the cushions in your way and laid sideways, your head nuzzled comfortably in his lap which allowed him to run his fingers through your hair once again.

“My name is Sunday, and I existed not too long ago. However, my reign was short lived thanks to that Emperor. And to worsen my pride, he went and erased my very existence by taking out everything that had any relevance to me.”

“Sunday…?”

You let his name roll off your tongue. The name wasn’t familiar.

“So you fought and lost against the Emperor?”

“I did. I suppose I wanted to see if I still existed somewhere. Anywhere. Though, if I don’t even exist in the Emperor’s library, well, then my name wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Why did you fight against him?”

“For my own beliefs. Much like everyone else.”

“What exactly are you anyway?”

“I’m just Sunday. An older brother. A friend. A leader of sorts. And someone who failed in the end.”

“How are you here now then?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke and when Sunday looked down at you, you wondered how someone so angelic could look so sad but still have that soft smile on his face.

“I guess you could say I got lucky with how supposedly died… if shorter terms, I became an aeon.”

“An aeon…huh? And what was that kiss you placed on my forehead? Ever since you did it, I have been having trouble remembering some things.”

“A kiss on the forehead erases pain and misery, so I kiss your forehead, however, a kiss on the forehead can also erase memory. I suppose…, I just didn’t want you to remember the pain you felt when you died.”

“Why?”

Sunday smiled at your question, “because I wanted to, do I need any other reason?”

You hummed at his answer, your eyes glancing back to the library door. You don’t remember closing, maybe Blade did?

“So now that I know your name, what am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Sunday started, “you still want to go home, don’t you? Find a way to do that.”

“But how? I kind of died the last time I tried.”

Sunday shook his head as he tried to keep himself from laughing, “don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way. And don’t worry about the rest. If you do die again, I’ll simply erase everything all over again.”

You nodded to his words, but yawned once more, despite sleeping for so long, you were still so impossibly tired which was when Sunday gently bent down to kiss both of your eyelids.

“A kiss to your eyelids, to erase your tiredness.”

And it was true, the sleep that was beckoning gradually left and just as you were about to say something to him, he was already gone. Your head was no longer on his lap and instead rested on a bunch of cushions, and just as you were about to sit up, the library door opened.

“You’re still lying down,” Blade said, an obvious hint of annoyance rested within his tone causing you to frown at him as you sat up.

“I was getting up,” you argued which caused Blade to roll his eyes.

“Whatever…, are you planning to stay here all day princess?”

Huffing at his attitude, you stood up while completely forgetting about the book you had been reading, “I get it, ok? I’m leaving right now.”

Stomping your way out of the library, Blade followed not so quietly after you.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the couch, did we?”

“Oh shut it you…,” your voice trailed off when your stomping slowly slowed to a stop as you looked out to the field where there were a few people riding horses.

A new idea soon forming in your mind.

“Blade.”

“What?”

“I want to go horseback riding.”

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbun @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[seancekitsch]

Can’t Stand Me Now; a modern Aegon x Stark! reader fic

CHAPTER THREE: Gift Horse

series masterlist here

warnings for the series: smut, smoking, drinking, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, more to come as needed

Barre class is across the city, in Sara’s neighborhood. A large building part of a smaller art university that is made up of mixed use floors. Some are classrooms, a black box theater, workshops, and nestled in at the very top is your barre instructor’s studio. And while it’s rented for her by a mostly online chain company that sells classes, she runs it as if she’s the choreographer for the Winterfell ballet company back home, the most prestigious in all of Westeros. It’s routine that you go there at seven with Sara, then open the shop at noon twice a week. Only Satuday you missed class, and today you’re running late. Sara’s only given you slight hell for ditching her, which is unusual. You love your siblings, you really do, but they both live up to the ‘The North Remembers’ stereotype. Frequently arguing with you and the nanny when you were kids, when Cregan and Sara could never drop anything. So Sara not being too pissed at you skipping barre has you questioning everything.

Your sneakers slap against the pavement as you pick up your pace, ready to catch even more hell about your inability to be prompt to anything besides the store opening. You sigh as your turn the block, the building finally imposing on your view of one of the more tree lined areas of the city.Despite the chill in the air, the trees still have leaves and the sun is bright and warm against your hoodie, oversized and spritzed with your signature perfume Mugler Alien. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you ignore it, knowing already who it is. 

Aegon has been texting you. Long paragraphs sometimes, barely legible ranting other times. He’s filling you in on his family, his life, been telling you how much he misses his best friend. Tuesday night he drunk dialed you and in no uncertain terms told you how hot you were and exactly how he would fuck you every which way every day of the week. That one was hard, mostly because in moments of weakness, you cannot help but think about it and the way he practically moaned into the phone. More than once you’d pictured yourself underneath him, on top of him, pressed against the cold shower tile, thrown to the floor, even bent over the till at your shop. He’d wormed his way back in, at least mentally. You’d decidedly kept your distance, not entertaining a lot of his messages, not texting him first. You hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning, and you were planning on keeping it that way until he gave you a clear answer to all of your questions. 

That was the most infuriating part. Whenever you actually text him to ask about why he’s back in your life or why he left in the first place, he just tells you it’s better explained in person. You’re not completely sure you want to meet in person again, though. You know yourself well enough to know you’ll probably forgive him again right away, no matter the reason. 

And Old Gods be damned, a lot of his messages are tempting. You want to hang onto every word, respond just as eagerly, purging thoughts into those little blue text bubbles and letting him in. Keeping your phone in your pocket is the best protection for yourself, certain that whatever Aegon Targaryen is up and doing at 6:55 on a Thursday is a diabolical trap to get you to respond and fall back into old habits with him. 

You fling open the door to the building, more or less jogging to the elevator and slamming your knuckle into the button. The elevator here is new, and moves quickly. 

You more or less tumble out of it, already hearing the sarcastic jeering on Sara’s tongue from here. Only, when you enter the studio, that doesn’t happen. She doesn’t call out to you right away, doesn’t stop what she’s doing. 

Sara isn’t alone, though, and the sight has you tripping over your feet. The silver hair is unmistakable, and for a moment your mind drifts back to your unanswered texts, knowing the Targaryen siblings are more or less a unit, and she probably knows about at least a few of the goings on of her brother and you. Helaena is the same age difference to Aegon as you are to Cregan, the only real difference being that her family is only slightly messier than yours. While your family is plagued by maybe more than one affair baby scandal and ski lodge residences, her parents being loyal to one another and having lived all in one house might actually be their plague. 

For a brief second, your blood runs cold knowing that she realistically knows more than you. You’re not the kind of person who’s used to not having the power and information. You’re used to holding all the dirt, the gossip, the emotional ammo so to speak. In college it was a weapon at worst and a tool at best, and now it is a shield. Only today, Helaena holds the shield instead of you. 

Sara leans in close to the Targaryen, whispering and giggling to one another as if they were alone in the world. This must be why Sara was not as mad as she usually is about your skipping this weekend. The two look like they’re in their own little world, a Sara Helaena bubble where everything is so funny and their proximity is their barrier. They look almost entranced, and when Helaena brushes hair off of Sara’s shoulder, your feet find themselves again. 

“What’s up, did you find a new barre partner?” You ask, looking questioningly between your sister and Aegon’s sister. The women look close, as if there was a shared something between them, and for a moment jealousy spikes within you. But then you reign it back in, immediately recognizing the feeling as one thats completely inappropriate. Sara deserves friends, and you should get some more. 

“Hel here had to get out of that stuffy estate, it’s apparently all doom and gloom there,” Sara explains, “she showed up at the class you ditched.”

Her tone is haughty, but you know it’s a joke. She’s been filled in just enough about the situation to only slightly rag on you about the whole thing. Sara doesn’t know about Aegon’s order, doesn’t know about the near constant stream of messages that pour in, doesn’t know about the comfort being wrapped in his cologne spritzed blankets for at least a few hours. 

“Right,” you drawl, rolling your eyes, “Because your dear old sister is so easy to replace.”

“Oh, the more the merrier,” Helaena chimes in happily, pulling her bag over near where you dropped yours. Her bag looks almost identical to yours, but instead of a charcoal and wine color way, it’s sage green and sand. 

“I agree, darling,” you say, pulling off your hoodie to get ready to warm up. 

Conversation flows freely then, shoes and inhibitions kicked to the side. There is a certain comfort to this, a confirmation that the world did not end because for some unknown reason someone in the Targaryen family doesn’t hate you. Granted, you’re at least half sure Aegon doesn’t, and Aemond you’d only seen in passing once in five years. You had been on a date to a brewery when he entered with an older woman, and then your date went to shit. All because you could not get signature silver curls out of your mind.

You lean down to touch your toes, chipped manicure just brushing an even more chipped pedicure. It’s when you rise back up that Helaena tries to get your attention specifically.

“You know I tried to hate you,” Helaena starts as if she had read your mind, her eyes and voice drifting away as she warms up, stretching and bending, “Because Aegon was so upset when you rejected him, but you’ve always been nice to me. I couldn’t find it in me.”

An airy smile graces her face, as if what she said wasn’t just insane for a multitude of reasons. She’s always been, as long as you’ve known her, in her own little world in a sense. Always sweet and kind, but in a space all her own. You remember Aegon’s words when he had brought you to the Targaryen estate for the first time: She is an enduring mystery, but I love her. This is, however, the most clear and direct you’ve ever heard her; and what she had to say enraged you. 

“I rejected him?” 

You cant help the rise in your voice, despite the few heads that turn towards your corner. You scoff. He really had the audacity to ghost not only his closest friendship but clearly the promise of something more, and say you had been the aggrieving party? Helaena doesn’t back down, but also doesn’t cower. For her, this is just a fact and not some life altering revelation. You envy her for that. 

Sara gently adjusts Helaena’s tank top strap for her, a gentle gesture you’ll have to call attention to when you’re more level headed. Helaena cocks her head to the side as she takes in your body language, your anger.

“Is that not what happened?”

“No!” You whisper shout, now trying not to have little gossips listen in. You throw your ankle up onto the barre and stretch your arm out the opposite direction. 

“Oh,” Helaena’s eyes widen as if this is now finally a revelation to her as well, “Thats why your name was a curse.”

What the fuck does that mean? You look at her, and she gazes back at you as if her words should have cleared something to up. Maybe to her, they did. Your eyes then dart to your sister behind her, and your sister’s eyes are wide, her brows furrowed. ‘Aegon?’ she mouths, her lips warping into a grimace. 

Your name as a curse, to whom? Aegon?

…. Larissa?

Your face relaxes, the realization washing over you in waves. You now assume you had been a curse on their entire relationship. The picture of you on his Instagram, was it taunting her? A mean spirited part of you hopes it was, an unjustified possession of Aegon in your mind. 

You pull your foot down, and bend to grab your phone from where you’d tossed it over your bag. 

You pull up Aegon’s instagram, something you’ve been doing at least once a day since Saturday morning. Swiping to his tagged photos, you find what you’re looking for. Hundreds of paparazzi and press photos of Aegon and Larissa, all of her vice grip clutching him, all of him looking like a less than sober flight risk. This paints a different picture than the one you’d been drawing up in your head. You’d known he fucked her in university. You’d known she was one of his regular rotation of girls he’d dabble with at the party house, one of the faces you’d accidentally barge in on in the bathroom fixing her make up after they’d hooked up. None of those girls liked you much because they thought you were competition for Aegon. While you thought that was stupid at the time, they were ultimately right, and you’d only realized when you were in too deep.

Your eyes find one thumbnail for an article saying that the Lannister’s pulled out of a partnership with the Targaryen’s corporate ventures after the split. Another piece to a puzzle that you hadn’t realized you were putting together until now. 

The instructor enters the room just as you open your mouth again, the moment to ask for clarification gone. Helaena offers a faltering smile as she straightens her back, getting herself into position as the instructor raises her arm. She calls you all to attention, more like an actual ballet instructor than for a posh girl barre class. Later, you think, It’ll have to wait until later 

The class goes by without a moments relaxation, going through the motions while internally you freak out about what all the little clues you’ve been given could possibly mean.

“Hey, wait up!” you call, even though the Targaryen woman looks like she’s not in a rush. You yank on your joggers, holding out a hand to tell her to stop. Helaena turns quickly, as if she’s excited to talk to you again. She looks to Sara though, and you don’t miss the way your sister tries to cover her blushing with her dark hair. You’re not letting her get away with that, you decide. 

“Did you want to walk somewhere after this together?” the blonde asks sweetly, and you nod, finishing stuffing all of your belongings into your bag as you shove your feet into your shoes, and link arms with her and Sara to pull them out onto the street as a united front. 

The walk to the juice bar isn’t far, and the trip to your shop from there is even shorter. You pay for the juice, knowing you’re potentially about to interrogate Helaena and cockblock your sister from whatever it is going on with her. The sun beats down on you, despite the chill in the air, casting everything behind you into shadow. 

The shop is bright, a beacon of pattern and color that calls down the street. The fall decor is something you still have to plan with Sara, probably after hours re-dressing the mannequins and making tissue paper leaves the way your mother taught you during an arts and crafts day when you were kids. As the three of you walk, the conversation is meandering, friendly and full of nothing at all. 

It’s not until you lock the door of your shop behind the three of you that you decide to strike. 

“Oh, you own Lone Wolf! I’ve bought from your website-“

“Why am I a curse?”

You and the Targaryen both speak at the same time, a cacophony of sound. Shit. You’ve always had a history of running your mouth, and you know Helaena is soft spoken. As if you have to coax a wild creature, so too do you have to coax Helaena into conversation with you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Thank you!” you wince as you backtrack, but if she’s offended she doesn’t look it. 

“You’re fine, I promise.”

Helaena looks around the shop, inspecting all the intricacies of your decor choices, the way the colors of your house crest are put into the fine details to honor them, the way that your space is an eclectic blend of you everywhere, if not only the professional friendly version of you. There is a weight that does not seem to press on her as she inspects the details. Last you saw her, she was a very withdrawn girl, practically speaking in riddles unless she was alone with her brothers, and even then she was more a wallflower than an active participant. She’s still quiet and gentle, but finally, Helaena Targaryen has grown into it. 

Fuck, she’s a saint. You nod, and take a sip of your carrot juice.

“He said your name,” she reveals, and you fully turn towards her, pulling up a stool opposite to where she decides to drop herself onto the plush shop couch. 

“When?”

“So at the engagement party two weeks ago,” Helaena begins.

Fuck! This is really really recent. This is an actively open situation. Aegon contacting you was not as random in its timing as you had first assumed. 

“He gave this speech, and it was really not like Aegon. He’d been sober and brooding all day, I’d almost mistook him for Aemond.”

She pauses, as if trying to recall something. The Aegon you know was and is rarely sober. Not always drunk or high, but not what a normal person would consider sober. 

“The speech was weird for him too, it was very thoughtful,” she chuckles to herself, “and then instead of her name he said yours. He was looking down at his champagne the whole time. Everyone was pissed. Grandpa Otto even tried to get Mum to cut him off for that slip up but she stood up for him.” 

But was it a slip up? The timing of all of this, all of the evidence you’ve seen. You now think that despite all of your anger and heartache, maybe you shouldn’t have hung up on Aegon the other morning. Good on Alicent though, you think. Although her methods may sometimes seem insane, you cannot fault someone who had babies when she was a baby herself. Throughout college, she was on a sort of apology tour, trying to fix what her younger self and the people that had influenced her had broken when it came to her children.

Sara bursts into laughter the moment Helaena’s words sink in. 

“Oh I swear by the Old Gods and the New, that’s like something out of a movie. Really?” Sara’s laughter rings like a bell again as she plops herself down on the couch next to the blonde. If you didn’t know better, you’re already planning their wedding in your head. Helaena nods, joining in with Sara, and you find yourself laughing too. 

You smirk over the rim of your cup, and swipe up on the latest string of Aegon’s desperate texts that you haven’t replied to. 

Just how much of a curse are you? Is it like Heathcliff and his Cathy? A selfish part of you hopes that it’s been gnawing at him, hopes it’s eaten away at him and Larissa this whole time. A jealous part of you thinks it should have been you the whole time, thinks your life has been stolen from you despite all of the good things and successes you have. The part of you that you are trying to ignore hopes that despite everything he’s been well, and that maybe someone’s been looking out for him after he stopped letting you do the honors. 

Your Number: awright aeg. ill bite xx

[anna-scribbles]

aroace adrien fic chapter 2!!! and we all cheered

summary:

Kagami fixes her eyes intensely on his face, and Adrien smiles. He scoops peas onto his fork nonchalantly, trying to shake the cloud of guilt that always seems to follow him these days. He always feels see-through when Kagami looks at him like that. When she speaks, it’s matter-of-fact. “Something is bothering you.”

excerpt:

Kagami is a good girlfriend. A really, really good girlfriend.

She makes sure that they go on at least 2 dates per week, and schedules them far in advance. She texts him good morning and goodnight like clockwork. She’s even proactive about cute nicknames, sending him vetted lists of options which they can debate the merits of. If dating was a sport, Kagami would be a gold medalist.

And she kisses him. A lot.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she’ll tell him with a peck on the cheek, catching him on the steps before he goes into school. He’ll grin and she’ll tilt his chin closer, planting one right on his lips.

“Come here,” she’ll coax, swiping away their homework with one hand and tugging at his shirt collar with the other. He’ll look up at her through his lashes and part his mouth just so, letting her press their lips together again and again.

“You’re perfect,” she’ll whisper, pulling him close in the locker room after practice. She’ll run her hand through his sweaty hair and lift her face to his until all his senses go dark.

Kagami is great. Kagami is really great.

And Adrien… Adrien is…

He’s curled around a pillow on his bed for the fourth time this week, caught somewhere between nausea and dread. His homework is unfinished, piano pieces unrehearsed. A lock of hair is irritating his eye but he feels too detached from his body to do anything about it. He hates when he gets like this for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because it doesn’t make sense.

He’s been depressed before. He’s been dissociated before.

But this?

He thinks of Kagami’s lips, warm and sticky with lip gloss, moving against his mouth. He feels her mouth open, tilting to meet him at an angle, and her tongue—

Adrien’s whole body shudders involuntarily and he curls up tighter around the pillow, squeezing it for dear life. Awful. Awful. What’s wrong with him? It’s kissing his girlfriend, the most natural thing in the world. Why does it feel like—why does he feel like he’s dying?

When Adrien closes his eyes, he’s right back there again. Kagami’s firm hands on the back of his neck, holding onto him. Her spit warm in his mouth, the small noises in the back of her throat, the pit carved out like a chasm in his stomach—

“You look terrible.”

Plagg’s nasal voice jars him back to the present. When Adrien looks up, bright green eyes are squinting just centimeters from his face.

Plagg frowns. “Are you still sick? Wait, did you eat some of my moldy brie? You know I said not to touch it until May!”

Plagg zips away, into the cabinet under the trophy case. Adrien takes a shaky breath.

“I didn’t touch your cheese, Plagg.” He forces his fingers to unclench from the pillow and stashes the memory of Kagami’s lips under some rug in his brain. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Plagg phases back into view, breathing a sigh of relief. “Phew! That could’ve been disastrous!”

“Yeah.” Adrien sits up and clenches his fists hard, enough for his fingernails to dig into the skin of his palms. The pain wakes him up, brings him back. (It’s penance too, maybe. He needs to be better than this.)

“Maybe you really are sick, then.” Plagg flits around him, poking his nose into Adrien’s belly and armpit and hair and even trying to look in his ears. He pulls back and frowns, cocking his little head. “Geez, it’s been on and off like this for, like, a month. Shouldn’t you go to a doctor or something?”

Adrien adverts his eyes. “I don’t think a doctor would help.”

Not with… whatever this is.

“All I’m saying is, you look really bad. Like, really bad—”

“Thank you. Thanks.”

Adrien painstakingly swings his legs over the bed and puts his feet on the ground, manually shifting weight to each leg. Muscle by muscle, reminding his body how to stand. It’s easier once he’s up. Fog filters through his mind, and then he doesn’t think as much.

The sickness burns off in the shower, seared from his skin. Adrien emerges clean and good and normal and he puts on new clothes and blow-dries his hair. Ready for anything. Ready for—

Nathalie knocks twice on his bedroom door before opening it.

“Kagami is here,” she tells him. “Your dinner will be served shortly.”

read on ao3

[yujateaandpi]

Hihi!! Just wanted to say off the bat that I just LOVE your art and the 30 more years au, it's one of the first I was exposed to on tt because I'm a new fan, anyway here's my questions (Sorry that I'm probably gonna say/ask a lot 😅)

Mabel is in shock for now, right? So will she eventually come to accept Dipper/"That person" being Dipper? And if so, would she see him more as an older brother instead of her twin? As in like, coming to accept him, but unable to have the exact "twin bond?" Because while the energy may be there, I'd assume that there could've been a bit of disconnect whether from life or whatever else happened (Like Mabel doing adventuring with a continuous "kid body and mindset," then Dipper with school)

Will Ford eventually visit Stan with Dipper and/or Mabel? Or with just anyone else? Or go on his own to visit his brother?

Is Fiddleford going to be involved in the Au in any way/important way?

Also this may be an invasive question (as in revealing lore or something I'm not quite sure how to phrase it) but will/is Stan resentful towards Ford in any way? Or is he just in the state of reminiscence or desperation for his brother-

It was also insinuated he may flip out if he saw him again by Dipper but is it just from the generally traumatic events like the initial portal one and then the same happening to Mabel? Or would it be from a mental condition that appeared over time? (We need more really old man Stan but dude I don't want him to go insane 😔😔😔)

Okay thats it, take things at your own pace and keep creating :DD it's such a cool take and all and your art is just really good, like I initially said. But yeah that's it dnfnfnnf

Whoa thank you for all the lovely questions!

Mabel is definitely in shock now, yes. That will get processed eventually. A lot of this story will actually be about her and Dipper trying to figure out that second part--are they still twins or older and younger siblings or if he even became more of an uncle than a brother? All I can say for now is: they've both got a lot of growing up to do.

Yup, actually Chapter 3 is all about Stan. The Reunion is a big chunk of that.

Fiddleford does play a big role, but a lot of it is resolved in the prequel fic. In the timeline of the comic, he's playing his banjo with the angels.

Stan's internal processing is a big part of Chapter 3 and some of it will also be discussed in the prequel! Sorry, spoilers for now. :)

Haha thank you, I'll keep trundling! Thank you for reading.

[itwillbelonelywontit]

Do you have any fic recommendations???

OOOOOH WHERE TO START,,, im assuming you just mean dn so I'll stick with that. in no particular order:

time speaks--okay so I know I just said no particular order but this one doesn't count. this is quite literally The Best fanfic I have ever read. its insanely long but genuinely worth every minute. within the first few chapters alone I had to get up and pace the room multiple times because its so absurdly well-written. im not even gonna try to describe it because I won't be able to do it justice.

twist your arctic heart--we love scenarios where light thinks hes in control but feels even more vulnerable in the aftermath. a classic yotsuba arc wet dream fic with some extremely well done characterization.

a tithe to hell--imo this would be The dn fic if time speaks didnt exist. PERFECT characterization, light going increasingly crazy, and a happy ending on top of all of it.

one last try before the core's collapse--angsty lawlight time loop fic. my weakness.

self surgery--mildly ooc sadomasochism pwp with some fantastic psychological overtones. also lawlight gunplay.

perfect life--this is THE psychological torture lawlight fic. its SOOOO good I cannot recommend this one enough. I fucking love innocent teenager light yagami and creepy sadistic L.

heat stroke--wouldnt be surprised if you've already read this, seeing as it's one of quinn's works, but its still one of my favs. L breaks the air conditioner on purpose to see how long it will take light to snap.

wired--my favorite surveillance era voyeurism fic. light thinks he has the upper hand but ends up feeling miserable.

this is how i disappear--quite possibly the most painful fanfic I have ever read. light's on the death row and man. it fucking hurts. I cannot recommend this one enough.

lie cold, consent--part of my own personal niamero canon; 14 year old mello assaults 12 year old near out of jealousy and resentment. INSANELY well-written erotic horror.

not death note, but I desperately want to share a fic that is a huge inspiration for the elementary/high school au, to meet again. this is a superb wangxian (wei wuxian x lan wanji, MDZS) modern au/reincarnation fic where lan wanji grooms wei wuxian, and the prose are just absolutely amazing. tbh no knowledge of MDZS needed to read the fic and completely understand it, so if you want a little inside info on what I reread to write playtime's over, definitely give it a read.

this was VERY long and honestly there are so many more fics that I could recommend, but these are just the top ones. I hope you enjoy and would love to hear your thoughts on any of them!!

[ssa-dado]

Aaron Hotchner - Symposium Series: updates!

I've just finished writing the whole Act 1 of the series (woohoo!).

It has 10 chapters, with the last one being the most heartbreaking - yes, even worse than "Synthesis" - because, as you've leart to know, I’m quite the sadist when it comes to these things.

Recently, while browsing through the Criminal Minds timelines (which, as we all know, make absolutely no sense), I was reminded that the first part of "Omnivore" (the George Foyet case) is supposed to take place around 1998 - aka the exact time this fic is set.

This case as you know is incredibly significant for Hotch - not only for his future but also because it marks his first case as lead profiler (woohoo!).

This made me curious to try document it, and if I did, it would definitely deserve an extra chapter of its own.

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ THAT. 🤌🤌🤌 I need feedbacks

If there's enough interest, I’d consider making this Foyet prequel chapter 10, and the chapter that was originally going to end Act 1 could serve as some sort of interlude - a bridge between the two acts (I always imagine the structure like Hamilton). Would you be okay with that?

And 🤌🤌 what would you want to see unfold in this Foyet prequel? 🤌🤌 Don’t hold back, I’m all ears!

Love you all

Extras: I went to my grandpa's house yesterday and found these relics - my 6-year-old high school philosophy notes about Plato. Here are 2 of the 30 pages of notes, feel free to mock me for my hideous handwriting. Funny how some stupid things like these end up inspiring me to write stupid characters for stupid stories.

[klainesecretsanta2024]

Information and guidelines (including deadlines) for the Klaine Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2024 are under the cut.

Don't forget to follow us!

1) We have one very strict rule: HAVE FUN!!!!! ❤️

Enjoy this event, because that's the point! To make each other happy with a nice surprise and to make ourselves happy for being able to do that. We want you to enjoy the process itself. If you have any trouble with this, tell us and we'll try to help you and make it easier for you.

2) What type of gift can you participate with?

Fanfiction (drabble, one shot, multi-chaptered fic), drawing/painting (digital or traditional), 2in1 for superheros: comics, animation, gifset, scrapbook style montage, photo or video edit... Tell us, if you have any other idea!

For fic, I'd like to keep a minimum word counts which is 1k, HOWEVER you can participate with shorter drabbles too, if that works better for you. But in this case please write more of them, like short chapters (that not necessarily related to each other) to reach 1k.

For the others, there are no requirements, except to be creative! Which is never a problem in this fandom... ;)

3) We try to give you enough time to create your gift to make this event as stress-free as possible. That means you'll have 7-10 weeks to do this (it's your choice, depends on when you wish to post your gift in December). That's why we're starting this so early.

DEADLINES:

Signups: September 28th -  October 12th Giftee assignments: October 14th Creating period in Santa's workshop: October 14th - Dec 23th Posting period: December 1-24th

4) Everyone is welcome to joins us in any way. But if you participate, please don't forget that you'll be someone's Secret Santa this year. Which means that someone, who takes the time and effort to make a gift for someone else is expecting a gift of their own - from you. 

5.) It's okay to be a little late. It's especially okay not to post a whole multi-chaptered fic until Christmas. However, please try to post something, anything until dec 24th - even if it's "just" the first short chapter of a multi-chaptered fic. Please don't feel it's not enough, it's perfect, you just started to post a long fic, are you kidding?? Your giftee will love you for it! But please, also make sure you finish what you started, and do that within a reasonable time.

6) If you realize that you probably won't be able to post anything in time, not even one short chapter (but you are determined to do it soon): don't freak out! Just please, please communicate! Let us know and send an anonymous message to your person, let them know their gift is running a little late. Don't worry, no one will be mad at you, I promise. :) Life happens!

7) Which brings us to a very important part: If you decided to participate, please take it seriously and don't forget about it!! If you realize that you won't be able to fulfill what you've committed to, PLEASE CONTACT US ASAP because it means that we have to find a very generous new Santa for your giftee in time!!!!

8) Will we give you prompts? 

Kind of... Yes and no. We'll definitely have some (probably open) questions for every one of you about what you like, so you'll have some idea to choose from and work with - if you want to. Please look at this as an option because we do this to HELP YOU, not to sabotage your creative energy!!! :) It can make your gift more personal, but you don't have to use any of it if you have trouble with it. Again, it's an option and your giftee will know that - some people need inspiration, some people don't.

Also, if you have more questions, you can always tell us and we'll try to get more information from your giftee's interests for you.

9) No-nos:

We respect everyone's feelings and interests but please, please do the same and in your prompts try to avoid of the really dark topics, like your favorite topic EVER is <3 major character death <3 (to use a valid example). This might make your Secret Santa very anxious about how to please you. It's Christmas time, regardless of the theme of your gift, and most of us love to keep our love ones alive, well... any time of the year, really. ;) So please consider to sugar coat your feelings about this, for example, say you like angst, or that you can handle heavy topics. (So your Santa have a choice but probably won't feel like they have to kill someone for Christmas to make you happy. ;) ) //Yes, I'm traumatized, sorry about this.//

This also applies to gifts: be creative but please, avoid the very divisive topics (you know what those are), so everyone can enjoy your gift in this fandom equally.

!! AI generated art and fic are not allowed !!

10) A tip: This event is not about the gift only. Your giftee will always be happy to know that their secret Santa is thinking about them. A nice anonymous message in the question box or through us, like "I'm making your present, I hope you'll love it" or just "I'll be there soon ;) - your Santa" can put a HUGE smile on anyone's face! Please make sure you stay anonymous, though!!!!

11) Keep your giftee in secret. This is a secret mission.

12) Tags to use and follow: #klainesecretsanta2024 and #kss2024  - we'll track both.

13) Do you have any questions or suggestions? Our ask box is always open!

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part IX

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2570 Warnings: some borrowed in game dialogue, no use of y/n, canonical warnings apply!

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here part V: here part VI: here VII: here VIII: here

Summary: Set in the end stages of Act III. The party faces it's biggest threat, yet Astarion can't help but worry about his future with you.

Notes: Hi folks ♡ What a hiatus! But I'm now officially married and loving life with my partner and doggos! This chapter is a bit shorter, but I didn't want to get too nitty gritty with details of the last fights leading up to the netherbrain (cause there is too many scenarios/decisions about who you bring and side with etc. etc.) and also because that's not really what this fic is about so... lol. I just wanted to add in little Astarion POVs and twists here and there for wrapping up the main game/known content so then I can get into the custom/headcannony stuff for the end! I would say there is probably 2 chapters of this left where I can wrap up this little story and give these two little heroes a happily ever after!

Thank you so much for reading! As always, kudos and comments are very very appreciated ♡♡♡

·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

Astarion’s red eyes couldn’t help but always go to you — visions dancing in them as he envisioned his future life with you.

Like when the group was in Lady Jannith’s house a week ago — ghosts and possessed furniture aside — all he could do was imagine the grand home was both of yours. Lounging on the settee with his head on your lap. Reading a book on one of the high backed chairs in the study. Ravishing you on the large, luxurious four poster bed. In the tub. On the balcony.

He thought his desire for you would be a slow build, a steady incline like the last few months had been. As you had slowly re-wired his mind and soul with your patient, gentle touches. As you showed him what it was supposed to feel like. At first it had been casual touches, then slightly more intimate gentle caresses. Then you kissed him again — gods, he still thought about that kiss on those crumpling ramparts. Then it was more than just his lips you put your mouth on, spreading kisses over parts of him that he had never thought of in that way. And it was like his body was set on fire in a whole different way.

But when you both reached that precipice and jumped off that cliff — when he finally got to have you, again, he was ruined.

You had ruined him. He felt like he could never have enough. Gods, he loved you. And you loved him. You repeated it, continuously to him — the words uttered so often to him that they were beginning to sound like a prayer. You loved him. You said you would love him for the rest of your life.

Your whole life… Just a fraction of his.

You would love him for the rest of your life.

And then he would miss you for all of his.

Save of him suddenly finding a cure for vampirism or you being turned immortal he would lose you one day. A thought that rattled the vampire to the core. Astarion had tried to broach the topic, but you kept brushing it off. To be fair, the entire group was constantly dealing with the looming threat of total annihilation thanks to the Netherbrain — but he couldn’t help but worry. You had finally given him something to hope for, a future to look forward to. Pardon him for being concerned it would be cut prematurely short.

Such worries were flooding through him now, his pale fingers trembling as he looked around the ominous cave. It was dank and dark. It smelled absolutely disgusting, and his boots were wet from having to swim to shore. Yet his red eyes could not stray from you for long, not even as you checked on your friends, grabbing their shoulders and giving them determined nods. He had to force the lump in his throat down into nothing just to keep it together.

He needed to be strong. You needed him to be strong. The vampire needed to put his fears of what the expiration date of "forever" would be for him and his mortal love — if only for long enough to stop the chaos of the Absolute once and for all. No instead he would focus on what he will do once you all won. The celebrations and adventures still to be had. The touches to share, expensive wine to drink and stories to whisper.

His thoughts steadied as you approached, though the smallest line in between your brows caused him worry. "You always pick the most romantic spots." He teased, grabbing onto your waist as you sidled up next to him.

You raised a brow, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips, "Says the man who brought me to a cemetery."

He barked out a laugh, "Touché."

Your laugh didn't quite reach your eyes, which were instead darting around the cavern nervously.

"Darling," Astarion grabbed onto your chin tenderly, forcing you to look at him. His red eyes flickered back and forth over your features before he finally spoke, "There is no limit to what I would do for you. For us." Your bottom lip trembled at his declaration, silver lining the bottom of your eyes for a moment. "I waited centuries for you. Nothing will stop me from being yours. Not time, or vampire master, or a monstrosity of a brain." His pale thumb brushed the tears away from your eyes, and his lashes blinked his own away, "I love you, my moon."

"I love you, Astarion." You whispered shakily.

He placed his cold lips on yours, more softly than he had ever done before. So soft and tender that he didn’t even realize he was capable of it. Both of his hands cupped the sides of your face, using the momentum to pull your chest flush against his as he deepened his kiss. Before you could react, he pulled away though, letting out a husky breath. "We better survive this. Because I never want to stop doing that."

You blinked yourself out of the stupor he had put you in, looking up at him with shining eyes. "We will."

"Get a room lovebirds!" Karlach's teasing voice echoed from behind. "We gotta brain to kill."

The rest of the group had soft smiles on their face as they looked over you both, before stepping forward with determined nods. 

You straightened your shoulders, standing at full height as you looked over your shoulder to the ominous path ahead, though your fingers still stayed twined in Astarion's. "Shall we then?"

·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨ 

Gods, were you strong.

Stronger than him undoubtedly — even with his spawn nature and physique.

The concentration in your brow and lip as you held the golden sphere around the group, your hands never faltering as mind flayers and spells and a dragon were hurled at you. Yet your powerful magic kept them all safe, shielded and protected by your will.

The unwavering focus in your eyes as you faced the monstrosity of the Netherbrain. Astarion’s knees had trembled and his dagger would have fallen through the sky if it wasn’t for the enchantment tying it to his palm. But you didn’t falter — though he wasn’t sure if you took a breath the entire time.

Your quick nerve as you and Gale formulated a plan together— the group falling head over heels through the air as you all hurled from the falling Netherbrain and nearing the water below. Your hands steady as they mimicked the wizard’s, casting the spell that defied gravity at the perfect moment.

The conviction in your voice as you said goodbye to some friends — but convinced others to save themselves. Sending Karlach and Wyll off together, bidding Lae’zel farewell for now. Convincing Gale that he himself, as he was, is good and pure and right.

The strength of your mind as you yet again concentrated on a spell — covering you both in magical darkness as Astarion had to flee the sun. The strength of your arms wrapped around his torso as he cried into your chest — already grieving the feeling of the warm light and the new life he had found in it. The strength of your love for him — whispering to him that he would be alright, that it was okay — huddled together in the forgotten alley until with your spell and your soothing voice you were able to coax him from his hiding spot.

Your strength to be vulnerable — to let the mask fall once you, Astarion and Gale were alone. Looking at the empty chairs at the tavern table that once held your friends — now all spread across to different planes of existence in a matter of moments. Your tired, sad smile as you and Gale gave each other comforting hugs, whispering your pride to the other after all of the anguish and turmoil had settled. 

How easily your fingers laced through Astarion’s cool, pale fingers as he dragged you away upstairs to finally be alone. Behind the wooden door, both your masks fully dropped as you embraced each other tightly, faces pressed into each other's necks. “It’s… over. Truly over.” You muttered into his skin, your warm lips eliciting goosebumps on the sensitive skin. 

"Ha," A half-hearted chuckle escaped him, shaking you both slightly. In this moment, it truly sunk in. You were here, you were both here. No tadpoles or mindflayers. No vampire masters or ascendancy to haunt you. You were both yourselves, safe and whole. "It is."

You pulled away to look at him, your eyebrows knitted together, "I thought I would feel more-"

"Relieved?" He finished for you. 

"Yes. I am but... I almost feel more unsettled now than ever before. I can't stop thinking about our friends, our city, the children..."

He grabbed your shoulders tenderly, giving them a squeeze, "No one expects you to have an answer for those things. You've done so much already." 

You flushed, looking down between the two of you. "We have. All of us."

But he lifted your chin with a curled finger, raising your gaze to look back up at him, "Don't sell yourself short. No one would have made it this far without you, my moon. I know I wouldn't have." 

You only sniffled as you blinked away the silver tears that were trying to fall from your eyes. 

"Now, I think the bare minimum the hero of Baldur's Gate deserves is a good night's sleep. Don't you think?"

"Ugh, I feel like I could sleep for a century actually."

"While I don't think I want to part with you for that long, I surely understand the sentiment." He winked, before leading you over to the soft bed in the center of the room. "Sit."

You silently obeyed him, watching him as he kneeled to gracefully untie the laces of your boots before sliding them off. As he worked on helping you change, he could practically see the gears whirling in your head. So he shook his head softly as you finally opened your mouth to speak, "Rest, my love. We can talk about the rest later." 

You nodded in agreement, before reaching across to the other side of the soft mattress and patting it, "Will you lay with me?"

"As long as you will have me."  

·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You had hoped for a dreamless night — you had even done a half hearted prayer to Selûne as your head hit the pillow that your mind would find peace after the insanity of the day.

And by her grace or pure luck — or perhaps it truly was from the exhaustion of these past few weeks — you slept. Your mind was clear, and quiet for the first time in months. No dreams, nightmares or visions had come to plague you either. 

As you slowly woke up, you lavished in the sensation of the mattress enveloping you, the soft blankets covering your body. The sensation of Astarion's weight and presence next to you made your heart flutter and stomach warm. When you finally cracked an eyelid open, you found that the vampire's red eyes were already trained on you. He was laying on his side, his head perched on his hand braced on the pillow. His lips quirked up as he realized he had been caught staring.

“Hello, darling.” He whispered affectionately, reaching out to move a stray hair from your face. 

You smiled at the tender touch, before looking around the room quickly. You couldn't tell what time it was — courtesy of both of you 'sunproofing' the room before heading to bed. You suddenly realized the hours you would keep would become very different — not that it bothered you. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Hmm, barely. I thought after everything I would and yet… too much on my mind I suppose.”

"I seem to remember someone giving very specific instructions to get a good night's sleep. Did that not apply to you, starry?" You said with a smirk, stretching your limbs above your head lazily. 

His eyes followed your movements, his lips parting slightly before he spoke again. “I was just thinking of freedom.” He shuffled slightly closer on the bed, “How we're free of the parasite. I'm free of Cazador. How I’ll never be in someone’s power again. And all it cost… was my life in the sun. Now I belong to the shadows. And I can't help but think... now what?" 

Your lips pulled into a sad smile, shifting closer to him as well, “If it’s what you desire, I will help you find a way to walk in the sun again.”

His red eyes went round, “I— do you think it’s possible?”

“I think the last few months have proven that anything is possible.”

A chuckle bubbled out of him, “I guess you’re right. And even if there’s a small chance… plus, it would mean we setting off on another adventure together." He said fondly, before looking back over at you. "Is that what you want? Is this what you want? I would understand if you wanted to go your own way…”

You pressed your fingers to his pink lips, halting his thoughts spiralling down. “This is my own way. With you. Have I not made that clear before Astarion Ancunin?" 

He kissed the pads of your fingertips, before drawing them down to hold to his bare chest. “Good. Because as selfless as I am, I really didn’t want to let you go." He said cheekily, nuzzling closer into you. "We are rather excellent together you know."

"And united there is nothing we can’t do." You said confidently. 

He arched a white brow, "Even making a vampire walk in the sun?" 

"Even that. Though it may not be an exciting adventure at first, it may take some hours in a library completing research first." 

"Ugh, I was hoping you wouldn't say that." He said dramatically, rolling out of your arms to sprawl across the soft mattress. 

You chuckled at him until the sound of a heavy thud outside your door made you both whip your heads forward. With a furrowed brow, you slipped out of the bed and cautiously approached the door. 

It opened with a creak, though no one greeted you on the other side. Looking down, you found several tomes and volumes of books in a neat pile on the floor. Bending low you scooped them up and carried the large stack into the room.

"What in the heavens are those?" Astarion questioned, flopping onto his stomach on the bed as he watched you cross the room. 

You placed them down on the little wooden table next to the bed, before running a finger down the spines with a smile. A Book of Light & Darkness, Curse with Vigor: Casting & Undoing, The Magic of Freedom... 

A folded piece of parchment was placed in between the first two books. Grabbing it, you opened it and instantly recognized the curling cursive inside. 'I hoped you slept better then me. But I had an idea in the middle of the night and made a visit to a friendly wizard's tower. We best get to work.'

You laughed as you handed the note over to the curious Astarion, "It seems Gale had the same idea as us." 

"Well, I guess that means we aren't getting rid of the wizard anytime soon." He said with a fanged grin. "Good, I was just starting to get used to him." 

[phosphorescent-naidheachd]

The dragon swooped overhead in a roar of wind and flame, pale scales flashing against a leaden sky. All here was white and grey, it seemed: the ground, the trees, the waters… even the animals and people.

“Now it begins,” the raven told him, perching on his shoulder. 

His hand tightened painfully on his sword hilt. 

Waiting. Waiting—

Bows twanged and a sea of flaming arrows set the sky alight.

“Are you ready, Jaime Lannister?”

And then he was falling.

—with the wild wolves around you, Chapter 27: Jaime III & Gilly II by Phosphorescent

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[carlyraejepsans]

saw your most recent post about really good fics that contain uncomfortable kinks and i immediately thought "ah, biscia must be reading the mpreg soriel fic" and almost left a reply talking about it but i stopped myself because i realized that would be an insane assumption to make. needless to say i felt so vindicated when i saw you link it in an earlier post.

like. HELLO?

HELLO???????

[coffeebanana]

as someone who is used to blurting out every single idea i have about my fics the second it occurs to me, WRITING A FIC AND KEEPING THINGS TO YOURSELF IS SO HARD I AM ONLY 4 CHAPTERS IN HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS

[sad-leon]

I know one of my AUs is in two seperate competitions but wouldnt it be so silly if I started focusing on an entirely different one

haha... jk.........

[reliablejoukido]

Someone just gave me a shit sandwich comment on a fic and it’s like… don’t do this. Don’t do this to me and don’t do it to other people.

[headfullof-ideas]

There’s something I noticed while writing and planning my HTTYD/The Deep fanfic in its early stages about HTTYD. Something I fix in my fic but would also like to just mention to all HTTYD fans because I feel like it’s not mentioned too much in the fandom.

The films AND shows allude to the riders being the ONLY kids their age on Berk.

It doesn’t make sense. There can’t possibly be just six teenagers on Berk. I’m sure child-loss is unfortunately not uncommon in the Archieplago, due to a multitude of reasons but also relevantly the Dragon Raids. I’m sure at least one or two small children died in a house fire, or have been accidentally taken in a raid (of which is a dark thought considering where all the dragon’s spoils in their raids winds up, something I also elaborate on in my fic) but to the point that in a generation only SIX kids survived beyond puberty? Really?!

There aren’t even NPC models of background teenage characters, generic models that get copy-pasted for whatever scene is needed. Why did they do that? Do you know how cool it would have been to have more teenage characters on Berk? Or literally anywhere else in the Archipelago? The only other teenage characters we get from the Archipelago are Heather and Dagur, and Dagur isn’t even the riders age. Why didn’t they have more teenage characters, even if they weren’t main characters?

We could have had plot lines of secondary teenage characters on Berk trying to become dragon riders and join the dragon riders club like Gustav was trying to. We could have had the riders have friends with other kids beyond the riders, their own small friend groups. They still all become each other’s best friends because of their shared experiences, but they could have all had buddies that they shared hobbies with beyond dragon riding.

Fishlegs and his rock club and botany friends, and the kids Ruff and Tuff have prank wars with and then invite over to their house for poetry slam afterwards. Snotlout and his friends in the sewing and book writing club he doesn’t tell everyone he’s in, full of kids who don’t immediately assume he’s a muscle head and only knows how to fight that he gets to hang out with without fear of being ridiculed or judged. The girlfriends that Astrid and Ruffnut could have had girls nights and sleepovers with, dressing up in outfits and makeup they wouldn’t normally wear, painting each others and Stormfly and Barf and Belches nails, because Barf and Belch are honored guests at girls night fight me. The inventive and adrenaline junky kids Hiccup has a blast test-running inventions with, that poor Toothless cries over because he feels like a single father of who knows how many idiots are jumping off of cliffs into the water below at a time.

We could have had more teenage dragon riders. The dragon riders club could have been not six, but a whole hoarde of dragon-crazy teenagers all running around on their dragons, a whole next generation of dragon riders coming into the world that used to hate them.

We were robbed