#but I did it without Stone since you didn't say you wanted it with Stone too

[simplydnp]

be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june

anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.

you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.

and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.

and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.

they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.

one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.

every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.

the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...

dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.

and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.

you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.

as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.

my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.

i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.

even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.

[the-whispers-of-death]

can you do more bear reader with tf141 head canons?

Alright, let'd do it!

Soap loves sleeping next to you, he wraps his arms and legs around you like he's a koala bear. This causes the rest of the 141 to take turns every night of who gets to sleep on the other side of you since Soap always has to sleep next to you (he's grown used to sleeping next to you and will not be able to sleep without being next to you).

The bathroom has three sinks because Gaz and Price refuse to due their nightly facial hair routine without you beside them doing your own beard care routine.

Ghost is a chronic lap sitter and does not care if a recruit sees him with his head buried into the crook of your lap. You're just so comfy.

Gaz drools when he sees your bedhead hair. He thinks it's the hottest thing ever to wake up to and you did not know he could produce so much saliva. (This one's a little weird, I'm so sorry.)

Price can't help but to smirk when you go toe to toe with a higher-up who is being bitchy to him. You won't let anyone disrespect your men and he loves it.

Soap loves when you put a hand on his back as you move passed him. He melts whenever you do it, thinks it's so attractive.

Ghost will take off his skull mask and balaclava simply to press his scarred cheek against your bearded cheek. He loves the sensation of your facial hair rubbing against scars that have haunted him in the past.

Gaz loves to play with your hair whether it's your beard, the hair on your head, your chest hair, hell even leg hair. It's so soothing to play with your hair and he adores how hairy you are,

Price feels so relaxed whenever he hears your deep voice and laughter. It's his own personal slice of heaven and his eyes instinctively close in bliss when he hears a belly laugh coming from you.

You wrap them all up in blankets whenever it's cold, even if they're not ones to get easily cold. You want all of them to be nice and toasty at all times.

[feyascorner]

blurry eyes

summary. Orin takes Astarion as a hostage and you nearly lose your mind trying to get him back. Even when you do, things aren't the way they used to be.

warnings. angst/comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. fluffier break from TFBU bec it's draining the soul out of me🧍‍♀️ this is kinda messy but for me orin always kidnaps lae’zel and Im glad it’s never astarion but what if;;;

You're not yourself. Everyone knows it. Not since Orin showed up at camp wearing Astarion's face, his own blood smeared on the poor imitation of the cheeks you love so deeply. She taunted you, smiling wickedly in a way that made your stomach churn before you lunged at her with a blade, only for her to vanish into a mist of red.

You usually prefer to use your silver tongue to get out of a dangerous situation. But now, all you want to see is her blood sprayed across a wall.

There are bags under your eyes, going days without sleep. You hadn't realized how accustomed you'd become to his arms cradling you in the dead of night, his cold hands wrapped around your shoulders and your cheek pressed against the crook of his neck. You hadn't realized how attached you'd gotten to him.

The fight is quick. Despite your companion's warnings to get some rest, you charged into Bhaal's temple the moment you had access to it, and rightfully so, because she didn't stand a chance against your wrath.

And now, even with him at your fingertips, laying so peacefully on a stone slab with his eyes shut, all you can feel is the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You gently touch his cheek, and you find that it's cold, as it's always been. There's a slice of a knife, surely to leave a scar if it's not treated well. You smile a bit, the first time in days, thinking of how he'd complain about the blemish a few weeks from now.

He finally stirs, and when his eyes peel open to your face, his face falls.

"Gods above," he whispers. "Stop with the damn tricks, Orin. I'm no fool."

Your heart breaks. And while all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and wipe away his frown, the adrenaline holding you together is long gone. You're exhausted, you realize, only managing to grab the edge of the stone slab before you crumple onto your knees, vision going blurry.

Ah, maybe you should have rested.

No, not when he'd been here to suffer alone, forced to face Orin's blood-thirst. Not when you'd smelled his blood on her blade.

You want to comfort him, but nothing comes through your throat.

The two of you don't speak much. He doesn't speak much to anyone, for that matter, for a few days. You can sense the uneasiness of your other companions, who don't dare ask what Orin did to him while you'd nearly lost yourself trying to get to him. You don't approach him, fearing he might recoil away.

The only thing you can do is watch over him while he writhes in his bed, drenched with sweat and nightmares you cannot take away. You're not even sure if they're about Cazador or Orin anymore, but you can't bring yourself to touch him or the healing scar on his cheek in hopes of soothing him.

It's only two weeks later when most of your companions have gone out, and it's just the two of you on opposite sides of the room. You rub at your blade with a cloth, numbly focused on sharpening it for a bigger foe while he's still reading his book in a silence that should feel comfortable but only makes your mouth dry.

"Hells, I can't do this anymore."

You blink as he strides across the room, and he's suddenly sitting next to you while you continue staring at him like he grew a mushroom from his head. "Do what?"

"We must talk about---well, you know, darling."

Even in this brittle stage of your relationship, the way he says your nickname is loving. It makes your heart squeeze.

You place the blade on the ground. "Okay. We can talk."

There's a silence that hangs in the air before he sighs. "Torture is not a foreign concept to me, my dear. If my years under Cazador's palace did anything for me, it's made my pain tolerance impossibly high."

You frown. This does not make you feel better.

He eyes you from the side, leaning back on both his hands. "What I'm trying to say is, you don't have to worry so much about me. Even if I were to perish, I'm sure there are other vampires willing to help you with your cause to defeat the Elder Brain, though they'd be considerably less charming."

You're immediately on your feet. "Of course, I was worried about you! And I don't care if you've gone through hell and back, pain is still pain, and I don't want to see or think about you even stepping foot into something like that, much less the temple of the Lord of Murder!"

He stands after you. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Other vampires?" you say in disbelief. "Well, I don't want other vampires, I want the one that I can't even sleep without."

Your eyes are glossy now, and you hate yourself for it. You should be consoling him, not becoming emotional over the torture that he experienced. But the words come out like vomit, and you can't stop yourself.

"Love, please don’t ruin your pretty face with tears,” he tries, hands awkwardly hanging in the air as he struggles to find what to do.

“Don't act like getting kidnapped isn't a big deal," you swipe at your eyes. "You won't even talk to us."

He blinks. "Me? Avoid speaking with you?"

"Yes!"

"Well, forgive me for giving you space. You looked positively demented after you were done stabbing that vile woman to the death, I assumed you needed time to recover before I could approach you."

"What? I was giving you space."

"I assure you it was the other way around.”

“You were avoiding me!”

“Because you were avoiding me!”

You're both just staring at each other now, at a loss of words for what turned out to be a miscommunication that should have been resolved days ago. The silence hangs thickly in the air, and a rush of emotions runs between you two, expressions shifting every few moments before they simultaneously become one.

He purses his lips to refrain from smiling. You stifle a laugh.

Then you're both laughing and while the topic of discussion does not warrant as such, you can't help yourself when days of ignoring one another have come down to such a minor bump between you. When both of you calm, you sigh again, this time in utter relief. "This was anticlimactic."

"It was," he confirms. "But this one time, I don't mind."

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest while he returns the gesture by holding you tighter. You stand there a bit, quietly, until he clears his throat.

"For the record, I don't want you to go around searching for other vampires."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You decide he can tell you more about what happened when the time comes, but now, you're more than happy the way you are.

[keraxxx]

Hate or Jealousy? -Part one

Pairing- Oliver Quick x F!Reader

Summary- When your cousin, Felix, invited his friend Oliver over to Saltburn for the summer, you hated him and didn’t know why.. you want to figure out his intentions.

Warnings- Cursing, possible mentions of ed, slightly bitchy reader(js spoiled n rich so), masturbation, possible stalking, not proof read

A/N-Happy new year! I hope everything is going well for you guys. I just watched Saltburn last night and OH MY GOD. I had to pause the movie a few times and think abt what I had just watched. Still an amazing movie of course and ik I had to write something about Oliver. so enjoy!! (inspo is from venetia and oliver's interactions.) word count- 1.4k

comment to be added to tag list. NEXT PART HERE

Requests are open!

—

For some reason, you didn't like Oliver. You didn't like the way he looked at you when Felix first invited him, it was as if he was trying to undress you with his eyes.. Did you hate him? Were you jealous of him? Or did you find him slightly attractive? You couldn't make up your mind. It was all over the place, emotions poking and showing on your face as you looked at him almost in a judgmental way. You think it was also the way he acted, all sweet and innocent.. his eyes showed someone different. He's hiding himself. but why?

Everyone is sitting at the table, Felix sat next to you and Oliver is sitting across. Everyone is conversing as normal, but you stay silent, nothing in the conversation is peaking your interest since your aunt, Elspeth, is just gossiping. You pick at your plate with your fork, unable to eat a single thing, your free hand messing with the silky fabric of your red dress. You look across the table and look at Oliver, practically glaring at him without a care. His features weren’t bad if you were being honest with yourself. It’s almost as if he knew you were looking at him because he diverts his attention to you quickly. You look back down at your plate, embarrassed he saw you. You saw him smile before getting back into the conversation with the family again.

After dinner, everyone disperses to their room and you walk back to your room. You sigh as you lay down on your bed, spreading out onto the duvet. You curl your pillow in your arms and rest your chin on it. Sighing, you kick your legs up behind you, swaying slightly as you think to yourself.. you think about Oliver. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Why was he so interesting to you? Something about him made you want to investigate him, figure out his intentions but it’s too early to do that now since he just got here. Time passes and you’re still lying down thinking about the whole situation, unable to sleep. Sighing, you hop off your bed and walk out your room.

You sit on a stone bench near the garden, hugging your cold goosebump filled arms as you look out into the distance. You hear footsteps and turn your head to see Oliver, wrapped up in a blanket you assumed he took off his bed. You raise your eyebrow curiously as you look him up and down. “I thought you were sleepwalking.” He chuckles slightly and looks down at you timidly. “Yeah no.” You force a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep , that’s all.” Oliver unravels himself and puts the blanket over your shoulders. “It’s cold out.” He says in a soft tone, puffing out his chest as he inhales. You scan over his boxer briefs with a hidden smirk, his tone arms and stomach staring back at you. “Are you not cold?”

You snap out of your trance and look up. “I am actually. Thanks.” You laugh dryly as you maintain eye contact. Oliver doesn't break it, he keeps his blue eyes locked on yours with an almost untrue smile. "Are you not cold?" You laugh as you refer to his almost naked body. He shakes his head and laughs embarrassedly. "N-No.. i'm fine." You nod your head and eventually look away.

"I see why Felix likes you." Oliver hums in confusion. "You're different.." You stand up, hugging the blanket around you still. "But.. I see you, Ollie." You whisper as you get closer. "I see you hiding." His lips tug up into a small smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah.." You look him up and down one last time before walking off, taking the blanket he gave you. His eyes were burning a hole in the back of your head as he watched you with a smug expression.

-

Next morning comes and as usual, the whole family is gathered up again, eating breakfast. Oliver comes and sits in the empty seat next to you. You look down at your thighs and clear your throat before taking a sip of your drink. Oliver conversates with your aunt, attempting to be nice. You look across the table to Felix and hum knowingly. He laughs as he looks at you, shaking his head before going back to eating.

After eating, you, Farleigh, Felix, Venetia, and Oliver hang out near the small lake. You and Farleigh are sitting next to Venetia on the dock, her hair in the water as she lays on her back, Felix and Oliver sitting on some chairs by the side.

"I don't think I like him." You say softly as you look over at him and Felix conversing. "Well he is Felix's toy.." "And we know Felix doesn't like sharing his toys." Venetia says in a teasing yet sarcastic tone. "True.." You hum as you bring your knees to your chest. "You think he'll last long?" You look at them both and they quickly shake their heads no.

"I think Felix is gonna get bored of him soon. He's so clingy.. and he was a nerd no one wanted to sit with at college so." Farleigh shrugs as he tugs at his curls. You stifle a giggle and roll your eyes sarcastically. "Oh stop.. he's such a sweet boy." You say in a softer tone. "Lets not lie now." Venetia scoffs before she laughs. You look over at Oliver again and you can see him eyeing you down.. that same stare that he did when you first met. He's undressing you again. You look away with a small eye roll and continue your conversation with Farleigh and Venetia. "I swear he's hiding something.." You scoff as you look down at your knees. "He's always looking at me as if he's trying to see how much i'm worth.." Venetia lifts her sunglasses up to the top of her head and looks at him. "Maybe he wants to get in your pants." She teases. You and Farleigh laugh and you gently hit her arm.

Its dinner time again and this time you're wearing a long white dress with a fold-over off shoulder look. You're picking at your food, again, still processing Oliver in your head. He needed to get out of your head for god's sake, you didn't like the boy. "So Oliver.." Elspeth starts, "How are you finding it here?" She looks at him with a smile and he smiles back. "Uh- Yeah.. yeah it's nice. I get lost sometimes but I find my way." "Good." She smiles and takes a sip of her red wine. Oliver looks down at his plate with a smile as the small chatter around the table starts up again. He looks up at you and you look back. "Did you ever go to sleep last night?" He asks in a restrained voice, just loud enough for you to hear. You nod slowly. "Mhm.." He smiles at your response. "Good." His words stuck to you, as if he wanted you to say yes.. almost as if you obeyed him in some way. You look down and drag your teeth along your bottom lip, feeling some sort of arousal course through your body, finding its way to your core. You just had to get through dinner.

Dinner is done and thank god it was. You felt as if you were about to burst, it was dreadful. You go to your bathroom, making sure to shut the door, and draw yourself a bath. You run your hand under the water, checking the temperature and immediately hum in satisfaction. You strip yourself of your dress and undergarments, leaving them on the floor by the tub. You sink into the tub, moaning at the nice feeling of warm water against your frigid body. You hum to yourself as you snake you hand under the water and down your stomach, finding your swollen bud. You let out a soft groan as you slowly move your digits against your clit, your hips moving in rhythm. You tilt your head back against the edge of the tub, your mouth left open as you let out inaudible moans. You had yourself yearning for more, the only image in your head is the man you hate, Oliver. You replaced your hand with his, imaging he was with you at the moment rubbing your soaking wet cunt. You whined and moved your fingers faster, your legs lifting up slightly. You bite your lip and cursed to yourself as you felt yourself growing closer to release, your eyes fluttering close. You wanted him so bad but you fucking hated him.

Your whines and whimpers fill the bathroom, probably almost loud enough for the whole manor to hear. You could just imagine him kissing on your neck while he fingers you against the counter of your bathroom, forcing you to look in the mirror while you moan out his name. Your juices dripping down his hand and his groans against your neck vibrating your body. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you eagerly buck yourself into your hand while you moan uncontrollably. Your back arches and you can your legs shake slightly as you finish. You pant, pulling you hand off your clit. You exhale as your eyes open slightly. Turning your head, you look at the door and noticed it was cracked open. You swore you had shut the door and you bite your lip nervously.

Was someone watching you?

-

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

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[utterlyotterlyx]

These Hallowed Halls

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask x

Summary - You had begged Cassian not to leave you again, you had begged him to stay, and you had fallen apart when he had left without saying goodbye.

Warnings - swearing, ANGST, depression, weight loss, fluff, Cassian being a raging prick, Azriel being a softie, mentions of blood

The Mother was certainly mocking you.

Rain smacked against the stone balcony beyond the glass doors which were rattling in the wild wind, harmonising with your own sadness as you stood in the centre of your room, finding little to no comfort in front of the fire you were usually curled in front of.

Grey skies loomed overhead. It was rare for such a storm to descend upon Velaris, so rare that most didn't know what to do when it arrived. Most opted to stay in doors and wait it out, wait until starlight flooded the streets in welcome and fae journeyed on in their lives.

Cassian stood before you, dishevelled and tired, deep sunken patches under his one shade darker than usual eyes, his lips curled into a snarl, body lax and weary. The Illyrian ran his hands over his face, grazing his fingertips over his growing beard, and he rolled his shoulders and his wings with them before he looked to you and sighed, "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Y/N."

You had been joined at the hip, had a relationship that no one could ever understand, not even Rhys or Az could figure it out. Cassian was your lighthouse in an ocean of fog, he had the ability to be your happiness or shatter your soul, and you clung to every piece of affection and attention that he gave to you. When he was gone, you felt as though you were on fire, like every single one of your nerve ends were being cauterised and there was no anaesthesia.

Brown waves fell from his loosely wrapped bun, drifting over his face which was illuminated by that golden glow emitting from the fireplace. Cassian had come to you right after he reported to Rhys like he always did, but instead of hugging you tightly and cracking open a bottle of wine to tell you his next enthralling tale, he stood before you to tell you he was leaving again with a cold and distant accent taking over his entire body.

"But, you've only just gotten back," you told him, fiddling with the cuffs of his jumper that you had stolen, just needing to be surrounded by him for one moment, it drowned your body since Cassian was a large framed male, and you adored his jumpers, they made you feel precious.

"I know that," he bit, his muscles tensing in a different order every few seconds.

He was exhausted, you knew that, it rolled off him in waves, no, tsunamis, and you wanted nothing more than to run your hand through his unbound hair and tell him it was okay. But you had missed him, too much.

The fire crackled at the head of your bedroom, a blanket lay strewn over the arm of the sofa from when you had flung it off of your body the moment his scent filled your lungs from down the hallway.

"Do you have to go? I've missed you Cass, it's been horrible without you," you pleaded, each one of your words made him feel heavy.

Cassian adored you, you were his shadow, clinging to him for comfort, he always found you in his clothes, he always found you waiting for him whenever he returned home to give him what he needed. Whether that be someone to laugh with or someone to hold until he fell asleep.

You were his person. In the most platonic way possible. Cassian couldn't say that about anyone else but you.

"Rhys had ordered it. So yes. I have to go," his words were harsh and laced with venom, a pure annoyance that radiated from him as he rolled his neck, unmoving from his place in front of you.

You were confused, he hadn't even smiled at you when he had entered your room, he hadn't hugged you or asked how you had been, he hadn't offered to tell you a story or let you know what he needed to feel better. The Cassian in front of you wasn't the Cassian you recognised.

It was the first time you felt small in front of him, the first time where his gaze made you cower and feel uneasy, "I can speak to him if you'd like? He might let you have some rest at least-"

"Fuck, Y/N. Will you just stop?!" Cassian shouted at you, the sound of his voice made you flinch backward as he took a step toward you, "I don't need you to do anything for me. I don't need you to stroke my hair or fight my corner, I don't need you to talk to Rhys for me like your words will make any difference in what my High Lord requires me to do. I don't need you suffocating me and wearing my fucking clothes. I don't need you, Y/N."

Water blurred your vision as his words sliced through you, deadly enough to make you feel as though you were dying, "I'm sorry, I was just trying-"

"Stop trying. Just stop. I am the General of the Night Court's armies, it is my duty to go where I am needed and I'm very sorry to say that it's not with you Y/N. Others need me more than you. Stop fucking clinging to me and find something else to obsess over."

Cassian was panting and breathless, fury blazed in his rich hazel orbs and you let out a pained sob, wrapping your arms around yourself and stepping backward again until your legs hit the back of the sofa, you rested your weight against it and let out a shaky breath.

You didn't dare look up when you heard Cassian shuffle, his feet scuffing against the floor breaking the silence that had consumed you. You had expected him to realise what he had said, you had expected him to rush to your side and apologise. But no. Cassian dragged his feet behind him and opened your bedroom door, allowing a gust a cold air to circle the once warm room before slamming it behind him, slamming it so hard that the canvases on your walls rattled at the force.

Sleep that night had not consumed you like it usually did, the ghost of Cassian's touch lingered on your skin and you cried until your throat was raw and head was pounding. You cried until the words he spat at your drowned you into the abyss.

The morning had come around quickly and you had groaned whilst getting out of bed, the little sleep you had gotten clear on your face and body, your tear stained cheeks were puffy and red, and your hair was a mess from your hands clawing through it, begging for some pressure to take your pain away.

You had to find him. You had to see him. You had to say goodbye.

But when you had entered his room without knocking, you gasped, his bed was askew, the scent of him lingered in the air, but he wasn't there. Cassian had left. His bedroom a haphazard sign that he had left in a hurry and as soon as he had woken up.

You hadn't realised that you had fallen to your knees sobbing until cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you, Az's arms wrapped around you and he held you close, hushing you and whispered to you that everything was going to be fine. Rhys had appeared next, frowning at you with sad eyes before cradling you carefully to his chest, stroking your hair as he carried you back to your room and fitted your sheets over your frame. Rhys continued to hold you until your mind was weak enough to allow him in to put you to sleep.

They had tried everything to coax you out of bed the weeks following Cassian's abrupt exit, Amren had offered to take you to the library countless times, promising to buy you every book that you wanted. Mor had tried to get you to go to Rita's, to drink and dance the pain away. Azriel's shadows peppered kisses over your face and had done their best to curl around the edge of your sheet to pull them down, to which you had whimpered and pulled them back up to your neck. Rhys had even offered to take you dress shopping, he told you that if an expensive garment was going to make you smile then he would spend his entire fortune on it.

Nothing made you want to move.

Your soul felt empty, every fibre of your body felt dead and cold, like the crisp forest in the middle of a harsh winter. Nothing made you want to live your life. Cassian's words to you played over and over in your mind, maybe you were too much, maybe after all your years together in your family had made you too comfortable.

It took everything within you to not ask for one of his jumpers, he had made it clear that he didn't want you to be like that anymore. He didn't want you.

Your body felt heavy, the weight of your despair crushing your limbs into dust. You felt the weight dropping off of you, you felt your stomach cry for nourishment but didn't wish to satisfy it, you didn't want anything, anyone, but him.

"Please get up, Y/N. It's been three weeks, you've hardly eaten. We're worried about you," Azriel had settled into the space behind you and smothered you with his heat, he noticed how cold you were, how tired and lost your eyes were, how you wore an expression of pure heartbreak and loneliness on your beautiful face.

Azriel sighed at your weak grunt, pulling you back into his chest and doing his best to make you feel loved and cherished. He couldn't admit it but he had heard the words Cassian had so carelessly thrown at you that night, and it took everything within him to not burst through your door and pummel his brother into the ground, even his shadows wanted a piece of the General, how dare he say those things to you.

The Shadowsinger couldn't even put into words the relationship between you and Cassian. You had never been lovers, but you had never been just friends. Friends didn't peck each others temples or stroke each others hair. Friends didn't wait up for the other to return home and then scurry into one of their bedrooms to hold one another and talk. Friends didn't act like you and Cassian, two kindred spirits of chemically perfect harmonisation.

Azriel missed your smile, he missed the way that they all lit up when you laughed, or entered the room, or even looked at them. You made life feel lighter, you made life feel balanced. But now, now it felt disjointed, and they all felt it.

When you didn't move, or even tear your gaze away from the world beyond your window, he sighed and left the room with a soft click of the door. Cassian wasn't due to return for another couple of weeks, and Azriel feared so badly that the damage would be too severe for even Cassian to repair.

The days ticked on, days where you didn't eat or bathe, days where you only left your bed to use the bathroom before finding another nightgown to wear, days where your only sustenance were a few almonds and some water. Mor had gasped when she had seen your body through the crack in your door, the grey tinged sickly paled skin, the outline of your ribs, the deep hued sacks under your eyes; it was too much for her to witness, and she had to take herself into her own room and cry for you.

Azriel had knelt in front of you two weeks later, tears in his eyes, and you felt his sadness rippling off of him as his face entered your weak vision, it was the first time you had really looked at any of them since that day. He had taken your limp hand in his own, he had allowed his shadows to slither up your limb and coax you gently into smiling softly at him, "Please get up, Y/N. Please. I'll do anything you want. I can't watch you kill yourself anymore. We love you, we love you so much. Please."

You had squeezed his hand as hard as you could, which to him was nothing, and shifted in your bed, wincing as you pushed your legs over the side of the mattress. Azriel was beside you in a second, crouching in front of you and helping you to your feet, "I want to feel the sun," you voice was hoarse, Azriel was surprised that you still knew how to talk, "Take me to summer."

Cassian had sped home as fast as he could once his job was finished. The feeling of leaving you had broken him more each time he had thought about it, that pained look on your face had haunted his dreams. He never should have said those things to you, he never should have left you, he should have told Rhys to go and fuck himself instead of what he really did.

You had cowered like a wounded animal in front of him whilst every word cut you like a knife, if it were a knife you'd surely be dead.

He had to get back to you.

Cassian had landed on the lawn of the River House and he felt the atmosphere shift, what was once light and warm was now cold and ominous. The house held no joy, your laugh did not stalk the halls, it just felt lonely, abandoned. Just like you.

The door had flown open and Mor had stalked from the hearth, eyes blazing with hatred, pale and tired, and she wasted no time in bounding right up to him and planting her fist right in the centre of his face. Cassian lurched to the side at the impact, cradling his busted nose in his hand, "You prick," she seethed, Amren and Rhys had flown out of the house after her but were to late to stop her from jabbing Cassian right in the nose, "Today was the first time she's even spoke after what you did," her finger was in his face, her eyes were wild and frantic, "How could you do that to her? She's your person, she's your best friend and you did that?"

Rhys grabbed her wrist before she could land another blow, Amren had swooped in and guided Mor back into the house, not before growling at the male in front of her, leaving Cassian and Rhys out on the lawn, the latter of which was glowering at his brother.

"Count yourself lucky that she got to you first," Rhys was dead behind the eyes, Cassian had never seen a void like it, he looked to the house, hoping that the foundations would peel apart so that he could see you, Rhys scoffed, "Azriel has taken her to Summer. She needed the sun, she hasn't been out in it for four weeks."

"Four weeks?" Rhys hummed, his power throbbing around him, "Rhys I fucked up, I need to see her."

"I'm sure you can wait, like she waited for you. I hope you're proud of yourself brother, I really do."

Rhys turned on his heels and disappeared into the depths of the home, leaving Cassian stood in the grass cursing himself for ever taking his anger out on you.

Rhys had called to Azriel, had told him that Cassian was at the River House and that he should take you to the House of Wind instead. Azriel had obliged without question, not wanting to put himself in the situation where he would harm a member of his family.

You had figured it out, the reason why your residence had been moved so abruptly, and it shattered you. Your afternoon in the sun had been lovely, you felt the sun seeping into your pores, you felt the waves kissing your feet, you felt the sand between your toes, and you felt safe pacing beside Azriel who only spoke when you did.

Soon enough, you had found yourself in the deep tub of you House of Wind bedroom, you had always loved the view there, you could see the valley of gold at the foot of the mountains, you could hear the childish laughter drift upward from the streets, and you could see the starlight cascade across the sky.

Oils and warmth washed your grime and paleness away, the heat giving a new lease of life to your skin. You were sure that you still looked awful, that much was obvious from the longing stares your family had bestowed upon you over the past few weeks.

The tub rippled as you stood from it, you dried yourself off and pulled one of Azriel's jumpers over your figure as well as a pair of lax cotton pants that hung from your hips. Azriel had done his best to make your room feel cosy, he lit the fire with his own hands and refused to cower away, he wouldn't cower away from it for you, he had brought you tea and fluffed your pillows, but you still ached, you still yearned for something else.

Loud voices echoed from the hallway, the padding of feet drew closer and you frowned softly at the noises floating to your ears. The door of your bedroom flew open and you found Cassian stood before you, nose smeared with poorly wiped blood, he looked frantic and boiling with worry and fear, and his face contorted when he saw you.

Rhys had entered after him, he had surveyed you carefully, noticing the towel you must have been drying your hair with now a pile of cotton on the floor, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can make him leave."

It was like your soul was burning with that aching fire, only this time it wasn't painful, your soul was singing a symphony of emotion, "No," you said weakly, your eyes moved to Rhys and you nodded, he told you he was only a shout away if you needed him and then left.

Cassian drank you in, the lifeless eyes and limp hair, the greyish hue to your skin, the dark bags under your eyes, he noted the way the clothes you wore hung from your frame and the way your cheeks sunk into the bone, and he broke, "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should have said those things to you, I don't know what I was thinking," Tears streamed down his cheeks and it hurt you to see him that way, "You're not clingy or obsessed, I know you were trying to look out for me. You always look out for me."

"I love every single thing about you. I love the way my jumpers drown you and coat you in my scent, I love it when you wait for me to come home, I love the way fire spreads through me whenever you touch me. I love everything that you are. I'm so sorry that I've done this to you. You deserve the world and everything good in it, you deserve so much better than me," his words were floating between broken sobs, he tried to move to you and visibly winced when you took a step back, "You are my everything. You are the one who completes me, you are the one I search for whenever I enter a room, you are the only one who I feel safe with."

"My home is wherever you are, you are my home and I know I've fucked up and I understand if you never want to speak to me again. I just need you to know that I'm sorry. If I have to leave Velaris for you to feel safe then I will, I-"

"Why would you do that?" you voice called to him, you took a single step forward and examined him, he was distraught, "I went to find you that morning, to apologise for being so suffocating," you cringed at the word, at how it had made you feel when he had thrown it at you, "But you were gone."

Cassian took a step closer to you, "I knew what I'd done, I saw what I'd done to you and I couldn't see you look at me like that again. I wanted to protect you from me, I needed to get you away from me."

You wrapped your arms around your frame and found his eyes, his beautiful pools of rippling sadness screaming for you, "I don't need protecting from you, Cass. I just need you," you tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear and continued, "I don't know why I cling to you, it hurts to be away from you, I feel like my body is dying when you leave me. It feels like my soul is being ripped from my body and I can't breathe when you're gone. I'm nothing without you. I can't live without you."

Cassian had closed the gap between you, his hands finding a place on your hip and under your chin and he tilted your head upward, his eyes searched your face, delving into the deepest depths of your thrumming soul and his eyes widened, "Y/N," his voice was a whisper, his thumb glided across your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch, soaking up the affection like a sponge in the ocean.

Bottom lip wobbling, he took your face in his hands, "I think I know why you've been feeling like that."

Cassian's breath fanned across your face and you inhaled deeply, you felt your soul melting, all of the sadness now a painful memory, you felt hot white starlight and the shifting of those golden threads, webbing your essence together until it jolted into place. The snap. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms and your fingers brushed against his jaw, "We're mates," it was a fact, and he nodded.

"We're mates," a tear slid down his cheek, and you knew he felt all of your pain in that moment, "I promise that I will take care of that heart of gold for the rest of my days. I promise to love you endlessly until you tell me to stop," he rested his forehead against yours, "I knew it was you, I knew it was us."

"Meant to be," Cassian huffed out a gentle sigh and brushed his nose against your own before dipping his lips to meet yours.

It was better than you could have ever imagined, you felt your souls merging together into one, you felt the world grow lighter and your heart grow fuller, you felt your scent combining into something that could drown continents. You felt him.

And as long as you both lived, there would never be a day where either of you felt unloved.

Authors Note

Jeeeeez!

Love these requests, they make me so happy x

@jenniferpendragon @acourtof-wingspan

[uravitypng]

it's the weekend and you're staying at hanta's, your best friend for years. you're currently watching a film together while he's laying down on you. you're playing with his hair and he's got his cheek smashed up against your tummy. sero is in heaven feeling your plump body underneath his tall, lankier and slimer body, he hums and holds onto your plush waist tighter. he lifts his head up to look at you and grins wide at you, you resist the urge to giggle at how his hair is all messed up from you playing with it.

he wants to ask you something, he feels like he has to but he's worried about the answer. kaminari told him that you went on a date with bakugou last night, you didn't even tell him about it and he doesn't know if he should bring it up but he needs to know about how it went. he knows he's not considered as funny or hot as his other friends and it makes him insecure, you're the best thing in his life and he doesn't want to lose you, especially to bakugou. "how did your date go last night?" he asks you, trying to seem like it isn't a big deal.

"date?" you look at him quizzically, "what date hanta?"

"kaminari said you went out with bakugou last night," he replied, confused.

"nope," you say and emphasise the p. "why would kaminari say that?"

sero is absolutely clueless on the matter, "no idea babe."

kaminari has been smiling brightly all day since he lied to sero in hopes that he'll say something to you about it. him and mina have been doing everything in their power for the last three weeks to get one of you to confess to the other, it's so painfully clear to them about how you feel about each other.

"why would i go on a date when i have you? and especially with bakugou of all people?" you tell him like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

pink dusts his cheeks as he hears you speak so sincerely. you've always been very touchy together and when he's drunk or stoned he'll flirt with you which causes your face to heat up and it makes you shy. most people would say you border on the line of friendship to something more but sometimes the lines blur more than normal, sometimes it's much more obvious about your true feelings towards each other.

sometimes, without noticing, you let it slip that you would never want to date anyone else. maybe one day one of you will let it slip that you're in love with the other.

[ryoalouette]

Machi's #12 DPxDC Idea

Dick shivered, Klarion had him against the wall and the sword. Quite literally. He had tie him up to a wall and now was threatening him with a sword.

"Relax," Klarion said. "I only want to talk."

"Funny way to show it," Dick quipped back.

"Oh? You mean this?" Klarion said swinging the sword. "Don't pay attention to it, is just a little failsafe in case things don't work as planned."

Dick narrowed his eyes, he was sure Klarion wasn't afraid of him or Batman so, what kind of creature could make him afraid? Dick needed to know more.

"What did you want to talk about anyway?"

Klarion swifter his feet, as if pondering what to say.

"Don't you ever get tired?" Klarion asked Dick surprising him.

"I mean, always in the same place, fighting the same fights, a never ending circle. It's so boring, so predictable. Wouldn't you like to fly away? To be able to see new places and meet new people?"

Dick thought about it, it was true that he was tired of being tied up to the same place. Back in his childhood he used to be constantly traveling, constantly moving. That ended when his parents died, Bruce had tried to help the itch by taking him on several expensive trips but it was not the same. He wanted to walk away without knowing where he would end up, enjoying the way more than the destiny itself. But he was fine, he was doing good, he was making the world a better place. His own comfort was secondary.

Klarion smiled, "that's what I thought."

Dick frowned, what were Klarion's intentions? But he didn't have time to ask. Klarion slapped something in his forefront as a portal opened.

"Klarion!" Yelled a feminine voice. "Time to pay up bitch!"

Klarion squawked and held his sword harder.

"He yearns for freedom! Take him!" He yelled as he pointed at Dick and took a step back. Dick gasped, so this was his plan! Not very original but very problematic for him.

Out of the portal came an old wrecked ship and from it fell a woman. She wore a mismatch of clothes from different time periods, several piercings on her pointed ears and a scarf tied up in her head. She also had long white hair and bright green eyes. Dick shivered as she smiled a too sharp smile.

"Not bad," she said getting closer to Dick. She turned to Klarion, "the payment is acceptable." Klarion let out a sigh of relief as she grabbed Dick's arm and pulled him up with her.

"Welcome abroad bitch, get ready to explore the realms and see what nobody has seen before. What nobody is supposed to see." Dick gulped as the boat traveled away through another portal

-

Bruce was desperate, it had been months since Dick had disappeared and they weren't any closer to find him than they were on day one. They had looked under every stone, every brick in the world and nothing. They had asked for favors from every person they knew, spent all the resources available to the justice league and even called for the green lanterns help. Nothing. Until Jason found a new book titled "kidnapped by the pirate queen" a romantic book about a rich boy that yearned for freedom and it was kidnapped by the pirate queen to travel the world and fell in love in the process. Coincidentally enough, it was written by one R.G.W. The batfam was divided if the clues were there or if it was a coincidence. Until the second book of the series came out, and then the third. With each new book it was more obvious that it was Dick writing the books, now only one question was, when they were going to meet their new sister in law?

[satorusluver]

You're Mine

Fem reader x Gojo Satoru

biscuitsngravie asked: 23 (jealous sex) w gojo pls 😭🙏🏾 Anonymous asked: 45 (possessive sex) + Satoruuu Tags: smut (MDNI), fluff, mild angst if you squint, p in v, creampie, established relationship, doggy style, jealousy, pet names (baby, angel, princess), mild degradation (slut) Word count: 1,400 ish (how did this end up so long, it was supposed to be a drabble lol) A/N: Sorry this took so long but I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you like it xoxo.

Hickeys and bruises litter your torso, your breath is heavy and erratic, and your limbs are struggling to hold your body up after so long of being in your current position. That position is being on all fours under the strongest sorcerer, his thick cock pounding into you with such force that you think you'd go flying off the bed if it weren't for his large hands having a firm grip on your waist.

But even now, with the fat head of his dick ramming against your soft cervix so hard it makes your eyes water, you know he's holding back. Even if he's still a little pissed at you for flirting with Nanami, he's not giving you everything he's got because he knows he could seriously hurt you if he did - he's not called the strongest sorcerer for nothing. So with every brutal thrust into your tight cunt, you know there's love behind it.

Then, you suddenly feel him pull out of you, dragging his cockhead along your slick, puffy folds that are dripping with a mix of your fluids and his. You hear the faint sound of him chuckling at your needy whines when the tip of him brushes against your oversensitive clit.

"More, please..." you mewl, pressing your ass back against him.

"More? My little slut wants more?" he asks in a tone that somehow manages to be even more arrogant than usual, even for Satoru. "You always want more, always so desperate for my cock. Why else would you act like such a brat at a time like this?"

You hate that he's kind of right. You'd been all but dragged back to your apartment after your boyfriend had witnessed you flirting with Nanami at an event the three of you were attending. Yes, stone-faced, serious Nanami, who is everything your energetic and borderline flamboyant boyfriend isn't. His usual happy-go-lucky attitude had been replaced by frigidity, his dark sunglasses lowered to glare down at you with sapphire eyes narrowed in irritation as he pulled you close and whispered for you to "get in the fucking car, princess." You didn't even get to see the food being brought out.

"Didn't think it would bother you so much...'m sorry, Toru..." you say innocently, but you're not really sure that you are when it's earned you three orgasms.

In the few months since your years-long friendship with Satoru had turned romantic, he'd never shown any legitimate jealousy. Satoru is nothing if not confident, and a bit of a flirt himself at times, being part of his unreserved nature. This coupled with the fact that he's absolutely gorgeous means he gets hit on A LOT. Sometimes even right in front of you.

So you in all of your brilliance decided to try to get back at him with what you thought was a little harmless flirting. Granted, Nanami was only polite to you, not really flirting back since he (and everyone else) knows you're with Satoru. But that isn't the point. The point is that you were showing interest in someone who is Satoru's complete opposite, someone who has outwardly expressed his disdain for Satoru's outgoing and carefree personality. And while Satoru doesn't usually get insecure, that actually managed to get under his skin, which is how you ended up here.

"This is what you wanted, right? This is why you were acting out? You love the way it feels, don't you? The way it stretches you out, the way I can reach your cervix without even trying?" your boyfriend teases, his voice low and husky in your ear.

You just nod dumbly, finding coherent thoughts impossible when all you can think about is just how fucking bad you wanna feel every thick inch of him ramming into you again, fucking you until his name is the only thing you remember.

The sound that escapes you when he finally pushes past the tight ring of muscles at your entrance is little more than a desperate cry, but you have no sense of dignity left when the six eyes himself has got you bent over for him and is spearing you on his massive cock.

"You look so good like this, all covered in my marks," Satoru croons, one of his fingers lightly tracing the hickeys he left on your neck and shoulder. "Hope they don't fade before Nanami sees them. If they do, I'll have to give you more."

He leans his body over yours, reaching to hold your chin in his hand and turn your head back to face him. Crystal blue eyes meet yours, and there's a moment of something almost vulnerable in his expression before his face hardens into the same look of jealousy he gave you when he pulled you away from Nanami earlier.

"My pretty girl. Mine. You think Nanami could ever fuck you like this?" His tone is soft, but there's still a dark glint in those beautiful eyes. His words are emphasized by him pulling out until only his cockhead remains inside of you, and then slamming roughly back in all at once.

"N-no, Toru, only you," you gasp out, the intensity of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you as you feel that knot beginning to coil in your lower stomach for the fourth time that evening.

"Only me? That's right, baby, I'm not just the best at jujutsu, am I? I fuck you the best, don't I? I love you the best, don't I?" That hint of vulnerability is back, and you wonder if you really have gotten to the great Gojo Satoru in a way you didn't know was possible. That he really was deeply afraid of losing you, the only other person he's ever felt close to aside from Geto Suguru all those years ago. You nod reassuringly, one shaky hand reaching behind you to pet his face as you manage to get out a breathless "love you, Toru" in between gasps for air.

Satoru's hand slides down your waist to rub at that sensitive bud between your legs. You can tell that he is nearing his own end as well by the absolute filth he spews almost mindlessly. "Fuck, baby, I love the way you clamp down on me when I rub your cute little clit. You gonna cum for me again? Yeahhh, you are. That's a good girl, oh fuck yes, milk that fucking cock, 'm gonna fill you up."

You rock your hips back against him, moving to meet his strokes as best you can with your worn-out, achy legs. You're painfully close to reaching that high you so crave, and every press of his swollen tip against that spongey spot deep inside you causes your whole body to tense up with pleasure. Satoru barely manages to hold it in until he feels you cumming around his fat, veiny cock one last time, letting out a guttural moan at the feeling of your gummy walls clenching so tightly around him as you cum in white-hot waves so intense it causes starry spots in your vision.

Your legs finally give out from under you, that last orgasm draining what little energy you had left to hold yourself up. "I got you, angel," Satoru whispers huskily, his strong arms holding your hips up as he fucks into you, desperately chasing his own high. His full, heavy balls that you can feel slapping against your ass with each forceful stroke begin to tighten with his impending release, and moments later you feel it - the whole length of his dick throbbing and pulsating deep within you as your insides fill with that familiar warmth.

"Fuuuck", Satoru groans, shooting his hot, sticky cum right up against the entrance to your womb. He almost collapses on top of you himself now from the intensity of his own orgasm.

After taking several seconds to catch his breath, Satoru gently maneuvers both of you onto your sides, careful to keep himself inside of you. One arm wraps around your middle as he pulls your back snuggly up against his chest.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?" he inquires, his brows furrowing and his sparkling blue eyes turning pouty with concern.

"Don't worry, I'm alright," you reply breathlessly, still recovering from your final orgasm.

"Good. Love you, love you so much," he whispers, littering a few soft kisses along your cheek and jawline.

"I'm glad you're okay...but you're mine, princess, and if I ever catch you flirting with Nanami again, you won't be able to walk for days." He chuckles light-heartedly after he says it, but you get the feeling he's not joking.

[mistergandalf]

ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO: FINAL ROUND

“Still, I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales. We're in one, of course, but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards. And people will say: "Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring!" And they will say: "Yes, that's one of my favourite stories. Frodo was very brave, wasn't he, dad?" "Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits, and that's saying a lot."

'It's saying a lot too much,' said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. 'Why, Sam,' he said, 'to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you've left out one of the chief characters: Samwise the stouthearted. "I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn't they put in more of his talk, dad? That's what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam, would he, dad?"'

'Now, Mr. Frodo,' said Sam, 'you shouldn't make fun. I was serious.'

'So was I,' said Frodo, 'and so I am.”

SAMWISE GAMGEE vs. FRODO BAGGINS

See the ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO MASTERPOST for details and follow #ultimate tolkien blorbo to cast your vote for the blorbiest blorbo of all!

[darkbluekies]

Like magic — part 2/end?

Part 1

Male!yandere x female!reader x female!yandere

Summary: after waking up from a coma like state, you find out that people are dying around you ... and they all seem to have a connection to you

Warnings: death, blood, typical stuff, abusive household

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: I feel that the ending got rushed, but I didn't know what I was going to write! Apologies. And for the moment, this will be the end of the series, but if I ever want to do another part, I will<3

Taglist: @yandere-city2 @svinxie @yumeneji @spitakgini

"Have you ever had a dueling class?" Hedwig asks.

"No, never", you reply nervously, thinking of everything Edmund told you about it.

"It's going to be fine. We're not even sure if they're going to pick you for demonstration!"

"I'm happy that Edmund isn't in this class or I'd be dead."

The mention of his name makes Hedwig quiet.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hedwig", you say. "I know you don't like to talk about him."

"You seem to like it …"

"What? No! He just annoys me so I can't forget him. He's taken over my brain like a virus."

Hedwig sighs and hugs your arm.

"I don't like him at all", she mumbles. 

You enter your very first dueling class and watch how the professor start to talk about different spells (most you've never even heard of).

"I need two participants", he says and looks around for faces. "Arthur and Y/N, please."

You can feel Hedwig stiffen against your arm. You feel your blood go cold.

"B-But professor-!" Hedwig starts.

"No buts, come up here now, Y/N", the professor demands.

You have no other choice than to step up on the stage-looking plateau. Hedwig watches in horror with her hands clasped over her mouth. You pick up your wand. 

"Professor!" Hedwig tries again, but once again she's dismissed.

You're supposed to protect yourself from a spell you have never heard about before, but since you neither know the spell nor the counter spell, it hits your body like a thousand needles. Suddenly, everything seems to go in slow motion. You're flung against the stone wall. The air gets knocked out of your lungs and your head starts to pound thickly. Everything turns dark.

Hedwig screams and runs over to you.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" she gasps. "Y/N answer, please!" She turns to the professor. "I tried to warn you! She doesn't know any dueling spells! Now look at what you did!"

The professor stands there sheepishly, and Hedwig wants nothing more than to swing her wand and do as much damage as she possibly can.

A few students help Hedwig carry your unconscious body to the hospital wing where your bloody head is wrapped in bandage. You're tucked in under white sheets. Hedwig sits by with tears running down her cheeks. She holds your hand tightly. 

Edmund sighs and turns the page. Idiocy, all of it. He doesn't want to read about spells, he wants to perform them.

"Did you hear?" a voice says to someone else. "The transfer student in third year got abominated during duel class."

The school only has one transfer student. Edmund shuts the book and flies up towards the Hufflepuff student talking bullshit.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks. "Don't talk so much shit. Spit it out."

They seem to flinch upon seeing him. Edmund's made sure that people know you belong to him.

"The transfer student, she's in the hospital wing", the hufflepuff boy says, ashamed by now.

Edmund feels how his heart stops beating. No way. Not you. He gives the Hufflepuff boy one last glare before running off. He bumps into multiple people on his way, but doesn't stop to excuse himself.

Hedwig looks up when she hears someone rip the door open and run in. Edmund's face is paler than usual and for once, there's something desperate in his icy blue eyes.

"What the fuck happened?" he pants and walks to the other side of the bed. 

"The professor didn't listen to me when I tried to tell him that Y/N doesn't know any spells", Hedwig sniffles without taking her eyes off of you. "She got flung against the wall and must have hit her head really hard."

"I'm going to kill him."

Hedwig sobs and rests her forehead down on your hand. 

“Stop doing that”, Edmund mutters and pulls her head back before wiping your hand. “Your face oil is getting all over her.”

"What if she never wakes up again?"

"Stop talking such nonsense, of course she will."

But he can't help feeling worried.

"Alright, students", the working nurse says, "you cannot stay here any longer, the patient needs to rest."

"I'm staying", Edmund says sharply.

"I'm staying too!" Hedwig insists.

"No, you have to listen to the rules. You can visit miss Y/N later."

They are about to resist once more, but are forced out and the doors close behind them.

"What a prick!" Edmund mutters and starts to walks off.

"Edmund, wait … please", Hedwig sniffles. "Please help me."

He frowns and turns around.

"I can't let that boy get away with it", she whimpers. "But I can't do it alone. Please … help me. Please."

“You want … me … to help … you?” he asks, confused. “Have you lost your little sugar, honey mind?”

Hedwig sobs and shakes her head. “No. Please, Edmund. I can’t do it myself, I don’t have the heart to do it. But I know you do.”

“How would you know that?”

“Don’t lie. I know that you have the tattoo on your arm. Everyone knows who your parents are and what they’ve done.” She snuffles and wipes her nose. “It doesn’t matter if they lie. Everyone knows.”

Edmund hushes and covers her mouth with his hand. Hedwig’s eyes widens. 

“Be silent, will you?” he hisses. “Fine, I’ll do it … not because you tell me to, but because Y/N needs to be revenged — and because I’m fucking pissed.”

“Thank you, nonetheless.” She takes a deep breath. “If you … if you do it, I will make sure to cover it up.”

“Deal.”

When you wake up, you can feel a harsh pounding in the back of your head, harsh enough to split your skull open. You open your eyes slightly, letting just enough daylight in to be able to locate yourself. The hospital wing. 

Why am I here?

You suddenly remember, and it sends a new painful wave through your brain. Carefully, you sit up and look around, wishing to see Hedwig, but there’s noone. 

Suddenly, a few teachers rush in with a body in their arms. The boy who you had dueled with — Arthur, you believed his name to be — gets thrown onto a bed and covered with a sheet. A shiver runs down your spine. Whatever that was about, you don’t want to be included. 

“Excuse me?” you say hesitantly, gathering the attention of the nurse. “Could you help me?”

“Yes of course”, she answers and hurries over. “You’re finally awake, I’m happy to see that. How are you feeling?”

Dismissing her question, you ask her to bring you Hedwig. And Hedwig you receive, along with the black haired devil. 

“Oh, Y/N!” she shouts in relief and wraps her arms around you. “Oh, how happy I am to see you awake! You worried me sick.”

You hug her back, weirdly scared. You have no idea how long you’ve been unconscious for, or what has happened to you while you were out. Hedwig’s ripped off of you and suddenly, you feel Edmund’s firm, muscular arms around you. He holds your head into his chest, breathing out slowly. 

“I told you that you didn’t want to end up in the hospital wing”, he mumbles and sighs out, cupping your cheeks. “From now on, I won’t let you anywhere out of my sight. Since miss princess over here can’t keep an eye on you, I have to do it.”

“Excuse me?” Hedwig scoffs. “Do you think I wanted Y/N to get hurt? I tried to tell the professor-!”

“I don’t care, halfblood. If I were there, I wouldn’t have let that happened! I would have dueled the damn professor myself.” He turns to you and kisses your forehead. “My dear, Y/N. I will never let anyone touch a hair on your head again, do you understand me?”

You nod, confused. 

“Good”, Edmund smiles and stands up. “What should we do with you now?"

"Are you allowed to leave?" Hedwig asks softly and you nod. She takes your hands. "Let's go eat something. You can sit at my table."

You come with her to the great hall and sit down by the hufflepuff table. Edmund refuses to be seen beside the students wearing yellow and black uniforms and retreats to the Slytherin table. 

“Here you go, sweetheart”, Hedwig says and starts to fill a plate for you, giving it over. “Eat a lot, okay? You have been skipping multiple days now that you’ve been in a coma — or whatever that was. You have multiple days to make up for, eat up.”

“Thank you, Hedwig, that’s very nice of you”, you reply and watch the mountain of food on your plate. 

Hedwig insists on feeding you, as if you were a baby. You don’t mind. After waking up all alone in a foreign room, without any knowledge of what has happened or how long you’ve been gone, being babied doesn’t sound too bad.

The entire hall is glancing at you and you realize that if there ever was the slightest chance of staying single in the public’s eyes, you were sealed to Hedwig by now. 

Your stomach starts to hurt not long after. It has shrunk in size.

“It hurts”, you say and clutch your stomach. “I think I’m going to throw up if I eat more.”

“But … but …”, Hedwig stutters, completely baffled. 

“Hedwig, I love the food, I really do … but if I eat more for now I’m going to puke.”

“I’ll … I’ll save it then!” she says happily. 

She puts the bread in a napkin and puts it in the pocket of her cloak. You’re pulled up from the bench by her arm and taken out into the corridor.

“Let’s go out into the fresh air to get you feeling better”, she smiles.

You nod, following Hedwig wherever she takes you. A fresh wind clears your lungs.

"I hope you know that I'm so happy that you're okay", she says and holds your hand while you're walking, side by side. "I got so scared. You know that I would do anything for you, right?"

You nod again.

"When I say that, I really mean it. Nothing is too much for you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Hedwig smiles and hugs your arm tightly.

“You should come over to my house someday”, she says. “I would show you so much stuff that you have never seen before. You’re missing out on a lot by being born into a muggle family.”

“I would like very much to go to your house”, you say quietly. “I don’t want to go home.”

She stops. “What? Why?”

“Well … you know … I don’t want to go home.”

She frowns when you shrug awkwardly. You’ve hinted about your home life numerous times, but you’ve never told her the entire reason. Should you?

“Why?" she asks. "Why don't you want to go home?"

"I'm scared that they won't let me go back."

"Nonsense, Y/N. I'm sure that they'll understand."

"No, Hedwig, they won't. They locked me in my bedroom every year to make sure I wouldn't get here. I picked the lock this time. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Are they bad people, Y/N?"

"Well … I don't know. They're not mean but … if I say anything that goes against their rules or their wishes, they punish me greatly.”

"How?"

“You’d be surprised at how creative they are.”

“I see.” She smiles softly and caresses your cheek. “You have nothing to be worried about, I will take you in. You can move into my house.”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to be a bother to your parents.”

“They’re rarely home anyway, they wouldn’t even notice.” She gasps and looks at her watch. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I have to go! I have class in five minutes. Please find me after class, we can meet in the library. I love you, Y/N, bye!”

She kisses your cheek and runs. You watch her until she disappears into the castle. The headache returns and you press your palms to your forehead, giving out a small sigh. Did your brain disconnect from the skull in that fall?

There’s too many people around you, too many sounds. You start to move back towards the castle when you’re stopped by a couple of students. They’re younger than you, but smirk like adults. 

“Aren’t you the third year that can’t duel to save your life?” one of them taunts. 

You’re taken aback, not knowing what to respond. They laugh among themselves, enjoying your embarrassment. You glance down at their robes. All from different houses.

Suddenly, their smiles disappear and they fixate on something behind you. You turn around, seeing Edmund with his two minions. 

“Bet you’re feeling tough, huh?” Edmund asks coldly. “Picking on someone that just came out of the hospital wing? Fuck off.”

The younger students glare at him, but listen and leave. You can feel Edmund’s hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, transfer student”, he says, “you shouldn’t wander around right after waking up from a coma. Did you lose braincells when hitting your head?”

“No”, you sigh and hold your hand on your head. “But it does hurt. A lot. All sounds make my brain pound.”

Edmund covers your ears with his hand, gives you a small nudge in the back with his knee to make you walk. He brings you to an empty corridor and sits you down on the floor. 

“Did you know those kids?” he asks. 

“No”, you shake your head. 

“I knew one of them”, one of his friends says. “Won’t be too hard to figure out who the others are.”

“Good”, Edmund says and sits down beside you, bringing you close to him. 

You frown in confusion as he wraps his cloak around you and puts your face on his shoulder. 

“Let’s rest here for a bit”, he says. “Don’t move. Sleep if you want.”

 The food swelling in your shrunken stomach and the loud noises have brought you back to exhaustion. You find yourself drifting off in his hold. Edmund sits with you, holding you closely. Every time someone walks by, he holds his hand over your ears to make sure they won’t wake you up. His friends chase them off. 

“Of course you had something to do with it”, he hears a voice say after a while. 

“No need to be snarky, Hedwig”, Edmund says without lifting his eyes from you. “I helped you kill that Arthur boy, the least you can do is thank me.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Hedwig sits down beside the two of you and caresses your hair. 

“We have more to take care of”, Edmund says lowly. “Some embarrassing kids tried to embarrass Y/N. If you can find out who they are, I will take care of them.”

“Sure, it wouldn’t be too hard.” Especially with her contacts.

Things start to happen the following weeks. People you have talked to or that have been close to you have disappeared from the school or ended up dead in the hospital wing. You have done everything in your power to not blame yourself for the weird disappearances. It has to be a coincidence, you tell yourself. It can’t be your fault.

“Why that look?” Edmund asks and pokes your shoulder. 

You haven’t even realized that you’ve been staring in front ot you, completely missing what the teacher has said the last half an hour. 

“I feel weird”, you whisper. 

“Why?” Edmund asks, confused. 

“Haven’t you realized that people have died or disappeared?”

“I haven’t thought about it too much. It doesn’t interest me.”

“Oh …”

You look down in your lap where your nails scratch at each other.

“Why are you putting so much thought about it?” Edmund questions. 

“I’ve talked to them all … they’ve disappeared or died after they’ve been in my presence. Do you think it has something to do with me?”

“You think everything has to do with you.”

“I do not!”

The teacher scolds you for raising your voice and disturbing the class. Edmund smirks for himself. It stays on until you’re let out of the classroom. 

“Wait, Y/N, can you stay for a moment?” the teacher asks. 

You nod and walk over with Edmund behind you. 

“The headmaster wants to talk to you”, the teacher says. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Why?” Edmund demands to know. 

"It's urgent. Please hurry to his office.”

You give Edmund a nervous glance and hurry out. He follows closely with a cold look on his face.

“What do you think could have happened?” you ask him while rounding the corner.

“No idea”, he responds shortly. “But if they're trying to put you in trouble I'm snapping their necks.”

You can feel him take your hand tightly. You'll end up with bruises, you're sure.

The headmaster's office is dimly lit. He sits behind the desk with a worried look in his eyes. It only makes you even more terrified.

“Y/N, good”, he says and sits up straight. “I have some very serious matters to discuss with you. I see that you brought your friend.”

Edmund looks greatly offended at his title.

“What is it?” you ask carefully. 

“I'm sure that you haven't missed the unfortunate death of some of our students during these last few weeks … and they've all linked with you somehow-”

“Do you think she has killed them?” Edmund bursts out angrily.

“I did not say that. Please calm down. What I am saying is that the murders are linked with you somehow and to prevent more innocent students from death, we'll have to suspend you for a while.”

His words hit you like a missile in your chest. 

“What?” you ask quietly. “Suspend me? I haven't done anything wrong!”

“I know, Y/N, but we need to catch this murderer before he does more harm and with you here, we risk even more lives.” 

“How do you even know that Y/N is linked, hm?” Edmund questions snarky.

“Well, we're not one hundred percent sure, so sending Y/N home will determine if the murderers had anything to do with her or not. You'll take the train tomorrow evening. I'm sorry, Y/N.”

You can't seem to move, wondering if someone has put a spell on you. Your head pounds, and you start to wonder if you're hallucinating, almost hoping for it. Edmund leads you out to the corridor and grabs your shoulders to force you to look at him.

“You haven't done anything wrong, do you understand that?” he asks you harshly. 

You nod carefully.

“I don't want to go home”, you shake your head quickly as tears form in your eyes. 

“You’ll be back soon enough. When they realize that you have nothing to do with it, they have to bring you back.”

But you have to go back, and you know better than to argue with grown ups. Whether you want to or not, you’re on the train the next day, with all your belongings. Hedwig and Edmund are standing on the station, waving you off. 

“This fucking sucks”, Edmund mutters, watching the train leave. 

“I’m so worried for her”, Hedwig says shakily. “I hope that they’re not mean to her.”

“Who?”

“Her parents.”

Edmund stares at her in shock, almost fear. “What about her, parents, Hedwig?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Y/N told me that they’re creative with … punishments. They didn’t want her to come here … and now that she’s been gone for half a semester, I’m scared what they’re going to do to her once she comes back. She might not be allowed to come back … or they might hurt her.”

“Not on my fucking watch.”

He starts to walk back towards the school.

“What are you going to do?” Hedwig shouts behind him.

Edmund stops and walks back to her with burning, icy eyes. 

“I am going to get Y/N out of that house and you are going to keep killing here”, he says sharply. “Do you understand that, halfblood?”

“Me?!” Hedwig almost screams. 

Edmund covers her mouth with his hand. 

“Shut up”, he orders her, “or else the entire country will hear you.”

She removes his hand forcefully and glares at him. 

“Edmund, I can’t kill anyone”, she hisses. 

“Oh, you fucking can”, Edmund scoffs. “I know you’re not all nice. Don’t even try. You had no problem threatening me on on the quidditch court. You have no remorse when you give me information on the people that I kill. You can do it too, stop pretending to be some weak lamb.”

Hedwig doesn’t answer. 

“Why do I have to keep killing?” she mutters. “Y/N’s gone.”

“Because she won’t get to return otherwise”, Edmund replies. “If the headmaster realizes that the murders really do link with Y/N, she’ll never get to come back — they might even think it was her that killed them … and then she’ll be sent to Azkaban. Is that what you want?”

Hedwig shakes her head quickly. 

“That’s what I thought”, he says. “My friends will help you kill whoever you need to. I am going to go get Y/N.”

“I know the muggle world better than you. Why can’t I go get her and you stay?”

“Because I don’t fucking trust you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t care.”

With that said, he walks away, leaving Hedwig alone on the platform. 

You cry the entire way back. You haven’t done anything, why are you getting punished? It’s not fair. Now you’re getting sent back to your parents while the murderer is still allowed to roam the halls of Hogwarts. You’ll never be allowed to go back. 

When the train stops, you’re met by your parents outside the window. You remain in your seat. They go on board to get you when they realize that you refuse to come out. 

“Y/N, get up”, your mother says coldly. “Stop being childish.”

You don’t look at them, don’t answer. Your father grabs a hold of your arm and pulls you up from the seat. 

“Don’t touch me!” you shout. “I can walk by myself.”

You press yourself past them and walk out on the platform. The entire ride home is silent, but you know that the second the front door closes, you’ll know what hell feels like. And you’re of course right, because the second your father locks the front door behind you, you feel a slap over your cheek. With wide eyes, you back away and put your hand on your cheek. They have never put their hands on you. They have done countless embarrassing and hurtful punishments, but they have never hurt you physically. Not like this. if you weren’t stunned, you’d scream at them. 

“I don’t even want to look at you”, your mother says in disgust and walks into the living room. 

“Just go to your room and stay there”, your father says in the same manner. “I will confiscate all of your ‘magic’ supplies.”

You don’t question them and walk upstairs. The second you close your bedroom door behind you, you break out into sobs. You knew that this would happen at the end of the year, but you had wished that you could have stayed a semester, at least. It’s not fair. 

You sink down on your bed and hide your face in your hands and you sit like that for who knows how long. The sky turs dark and the moon greets you, but you ignore him. You don’t move out of your spot, not even when your stomach starts to growl. 

Suddenly, you can hear a crash from downstairs. Quickly, you stand up and are about to run over to the door, when you remember your parents. You don’t want to go downstairs and show them that the loud sound worried you. They don’t deserve that after what they’ve done. Instead, you cross your arms and lay down in bed, curling up in to a ball with your back towards the door. You shut out the sounds from downstairs, humming for yourself to drown them out. 

When you hear your door open, you’re too scared to turn around. 

“Y/N.”

Edmund? You turn around and see him standing in the doorway, blood dripping from his hair and covering his cloak. He smiles when seeing you, the first genuine smile you’ve ever seen him wear. He hurries over to you and hugs you tightly. You’re smushed against his chest and can feel his hands everywhere. His bloody hands. 

“W-What have you done?” you stutter into his neck while trying your best to push him off. 

“I’m here to save you!” he says. “Hedwig told me about your parents. They won’t keep you captive anymore.”

“What have you done?!”

You manage to push him off. He looks confused. 

“They were being mean to you, Y/N”, he says in a questionable manner. “They’ve hurt you. Your cheek …”

You can’t understand how he can sense a redness in the skin.

“What have you done?” you ask, quieter this time. 

“I’ve killed them”, he says firmly. “I killed them without magic. Just how mudbloods deserve to be killed.”

Your eyes widen. Your body goes cold at the thought of Edmund taking someone's life. It doesn't matter if he thinks that he's doing you a favor, the action itself is enough to make you mortified. You try to crawl back on the bed, but your head hits the wall, trapping you. Edmund grabs your leg and pulls you back, closer to him. 

“Don’t run away from me”, he tells you. “Not now. I came all the way here to help you.”

“How did you even get here?” you sob. 

“My father helped me. Now come here-”

You start to claw at him when he tries to pick him up, accidentally revealing the tattoo on his wrist. You stop dead in your tracks and he’s quick to pull his sleeve down. 

“Hedwig was right”, you pant. “You fucking monster!”

“Monster or not, I saved you”, Edmund reminds you and takes your moment of surprise to his advantage, pulling you over his shoulder. “Now we’re going.”

You start to scream and kick, so he wrestles you down on the floor in the corridor, picks something up from his pocket and pours something in your mouth. A liquid reminding you of Hedwig’s love potion. You cough to try to get it up, but Edmund covers your mouth with his hand and dictates it upwards, so you’ll have no other choice but to swallow the unfamiliar liquid. You feel your body grow numb in a minute. Your eyes are still open, you can still hear, but you can’t move. 

“Sorry for that, Y/N”, Edmund pants and picks you up again. “But you can’t behave. And I need you to be quiet.”

When he carries you downstairs, you can see the bloody bodies lying on the floor with limbs in positions and directions they definitely shouldn’t be in. You want to scream, but you can’t move. 

Edmund carries you out to something looking like a car, but you can telly hat it isn’t. It looks more like a carriage. He has a chauffeur in the front who starts to drive when Edmund has sitten down with you in his lap. The carriage flies, you notice when you spot your roof outside. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N”, Edmund says and brushes the hair out of your face. “I didn’t want to numb you, I hope you know that.”

How fucking could you?

“Don’t give me that look.”

You killed my parents, you swine.

Edmund sighs and covers your eyes with his hand. He soon removes it when he feels water against his palm.

“Y/N, don't cry”, he sighs. “Why are you even upset? They wouldn’t let you come back to the place you belonged … they hurt you. Stop looking at me like I’m the bad guy here. Yes, I killed them but I did you a favor.”

He doesn't say more until the carriage stops outside of a dark house. Edmund carries you inside (where it's just as dark), up a pair of marmot stairs and into a bedroom. You can tell that it's his right away by the moving pictures of dark wizards on the wall. He lies you down on his bed and sit by your side, caressing your cheek until the potion is diluted enough in your blood for you to move. It won’t be fully gone until it has exited your body. You sit up and look around, feeling his eyes on you. 

“Why did you do that?” you ask quietly. “Did you kill all the others too? In school?”

Edmund nods. 

“You fucking creep”, you breathe out. 

Edmund scoffs, but doesn’t answer. “Aren’t you happy I killed them for you? Your parents are awful. They hurt you, they didn’t see your potential.”

“They were my fucking parents …”

“And they hurt you.”

Silence. 

“Your tattoo …”, you say hesitantly. “Why?”

Edmund covers his wrist with his hand, even though his shirt already hides the tattoo.

“What should I have done, do you think?” he asks. “When all around me want me to have it? Say no? And be discarded by everyone? I don’t think so.”

“You’ve sold your soul. You’re a monster.”

Edmund doesn’t answer. 

“Your family hates people like me, don’t they?” you ask. “What if I tell your father that you’re having me here? That his pureblood son is killing for a mudblood?”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare. In that case, he kills both of us, smartass.”

“I want Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you do, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s in on it too.” Edmund smiles. “Face it, darling, your parents would die sooner or later.”

It hits you that you’re an orphan now. You’re all alone. No house, no family … and apparently no friends. 

You’re allowed to return to Hogwarts a month later. Edmund brings you with him, holding you tightly by his side. 

“Y/N!” Hedwig shouts and runs over to you, hugging you tightly. “Sweetheart!”

You don't move. Hedwig pulls back and looks at you worriedly.

“What's wrong?” she asks.

“She knows”, Edmund says shortly.

“Oh … b-but you know that we did it for you, right? Y/N?”

“You disgust me”, you whisper. “Both of you.”

“Well, too fucking bad”, Edmund says. “You're stuck with us now. Tell anyone and I'm going to bring you back home. You want to stay here, don't you?”

You nod shortly.

“Then behave”, Edmund tells you.

“You'll not have a hard time doing that”, Hedwig smiles sadly and caresses your cheek. “You're such a lovely girl.”

You want nothing more than to wake up from this bizarre nightmare. Why did they have to ruin your magical place?

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.9k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Chapter 3: Coldening

The orange leaves falling on your balcony, the cold autumn wind signaling the end of the season. You could already see that most of the trees had lost their leaves.

What's more, most people were no longer going out without any kind of warmth, the chill that seemed to warn of a harsh winter approaching.

But the weather outside wasn't the only thing that was getting cold.

As you walked through the castle corridors, you rubbed your hands together to keep warm on that cold afternoon. Even if you were covered.

At least if you had someone to warm you up, you wouldn't need much.

However, you couldn't help but notice Leon's presence at the end of the corridor.

He was just staring out of the window, arms crossed and a furrowed brow, as usual. At first you had no plans to approach him and try to strike up some kind of conversation, perhaps because you were still closed off and tending to your recent hurt.

In fact, things had become even more distant between you. Since the last incident, you only met for breakfast and dinner respectively, not even at lunchtime, since Leon avoided you like the plague.

As a result, you simply interpreted that he didn't want to have any kind of conversation with you, and even you got used to the distance that was forming. Perhaps it would be better this way, each in their own space, to avoid so many problems.

However, what you least expected was to hear his voice calling you, almost in a whisper, "Can I talk to you?"

For a moment you stopped in your tracks, looking down and thinking for a moment. You couldn't just say no, that would be rude, but was it time to talk to him?

You didn't have time to consider any of this, as just then you felt his warm hand being placed gently on your shoulder, as if he wanted you to notice his presence, maybe to get your attention if only for a minute.

"Excuse me, Prince, I was a little lost in my thoughts." You say softly, turning your face towards him.

The same sweet, gentle smile was there, even though it was fake, you were incredibly convincing.

"Did something happen?" He asks in a sincere whisper, looking at you with a calm expression.

And for a brief moment you let yourself believe that he cared, even if it was far from reality.

"No, nothing. Just nervous, the wedding is next week." You say, yet the wedding was the least of your worries.

He looks you up and down, narrowing his eyes as if he doesn't believe a word you say.

Not least because he knew why you'd been so upset recently, he was the reason all this was happening.

"I see. Would you mind accompanying me?" He says calmly, offering you his arm.

Which, by the way, you politely declined, putting both your hands down the front of your dress. You made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be that close.

Maybe it was wrong, but you couldn't act as if nothing had happened.

So he got the message, even if he was a little disappointed. He started walking towards the courtyard, hoping that you would accompany him.

And so you did, not making much of a point of starting any kind of conversation or anything like that. You just kept quiet and followed him, willing to listen to whatever he had to say.

You noticed his gaze on you, an almost guilty look, if you didn't know him, you could have sworn there was a hint of regret in his gaze.

But you knew it was just another insignificant justification.

The only sound was the rustling breeze, the wind that cut through the air and made you shiver. Along with the sound of dry leaves crunching with every step you both took.

"You refused my flowers." He whispered, calm as ever, yet you could sense a certain bitterness in his words.

You sighed, almost imperceptibly. How could you willingly accept it like that? As if nothing had happened, it seemed too hypocritical.

They were certainly the most expensive and beautiful flowers he could find, you had no doubt about that.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you the most expensive jewelry, the shiny necklaces that adorned your neck.

He couldn't buy your affection as he thought he could, or your silence and understanding. There was no money or jewel in the world that could make you understand and accept this situation.

"I'm sorry for the discourtesy, but I thought the flowers didn't go well in my room." You say simply, not bothering to look him in the eye.

It was obviously a lie, but you weren't going to be that blunt. Maybe he had a good excuse, right?

Deep down you knew it was just a foolish thought, because the truth was clearer than day.

"I see, I'll consider your opinion the next time I go to pick flowers." He says, the tone unmistakable from the distance between the two of you.

You nod, not paying much attention to his actual words. You knew it was a silent apology, but you still didn't know if you could accept it so easily.

Not least because it was a mistake of his that would be repeated, and you feared it would never stop.

Noticing your silence, he sighed. It was hard to admit that he missed hearing you jabbering with him, but at the end of the day it was an expected reaction on your part.

"I actually invited you here for another reason," He begins calmly, taking a seat on one of the benches in the courtyard.

You silently repeat the gesture, looking him in the eye and waiting for him to continue.

He lets out a quiet sigh, gently placing his hand on yours. A gesture that surprised you, to say the least.

Since when did he do this kind of thing with you?

"I need to go on a quick business trip, it'll last a few days. I just wanted to let you know." He mutters quietly, and genuinely doesn't seem happy with what he's just said.

You look at him a little puzzled, even suspicious. Why such a sudden trip? Just a few days before the wedding.

As if he had read your thoughts, he ran his thumb over the back of your covered hand, as if to reassure you of something.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be here until the wedding." The way he talked about the marriage in such a nonchalant way was enough to make you tense up a little.

Couldn't he at least pretend? Could he perhaps be less rude?

"I hope you're here, Your Highness." You said it slowly, and incredibly quietly, in a way that was a contrast to what you were feeling.

He noticed the way you narrowed your eyes, or even when you removed his hand from yours. Resting both your hands on your lap.

Then Leon nodded, correcting his sentence, "I'll be here. I wouldn't miss it."

And frankly, that didn't calm your heart one bit. What if he didn't show up? What if he decided to run away and just leave?

These were questions that plagued your mind, especially over the last few days. You couldn't imagine the embarrassment of this situation if it became real.

You already knew the ground you were standing on, and you were being very cautious not to let all this sink your future marriage even further.

"How many days will you be away?" You ask as you look at the bush of flowers.

The flowers that reminded you of so many things. Too bad most of those memories were negative.

"Probably four days at most. I don't want to spend too long away." He answered your question, his gaze not leaving yours for a single second.

It was as if he wanted to say more than he could, maybe he even regretted something. Or it could be something from your hopeful mind that was praying that this situation would somehow be reversed.

"And also, I wanted to talk to you about something else." He begins, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Tell me, something to do with the trip?" You ask quietly, turning to give the prince your attention.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone while I'm away. I understand that there are several servants in the castle, but I'd still prefer to remain attentive." His words were enough to make you frown, pursing your lips into a small pout.

"No need to worry, you know I'm in good hands here." And indeed that was it, it wasn't as if you were somewhere dangerous.

In fact, you found his sudden concern strange.

"Even so, a friend I trust will be spending a few days at the castle. Chris Redfield, I suppose you've heard of him." Leon says while still placing his hand against yours.

You nodded in response, remembering the much-talked-about Duke who had recently arrived at the castle.

You hadn't imagined that he was a close friend of Leon's or anything like that, so it was actually a surprise.

"I'd like to introduce him to you." Leon says as he stands up, expecting you to accompany him.

You did so without much reluctance, even eager to see the so-called Duke. The dark-haired man was there, at the main entrance, having a conversation with the King, they seemed quite close.

But their attention soon turned to you and Leon, the couple of the moment. And you pretended so well that the people around you believed it.

Leon's father patted him on the shoulder, while Chris looked you up and down.

He was handsome, tall, strong and shapely, undoubtedly very popular with the ladies.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess." Chris says, bowing and smiling at you.

"My pleasure." You say with a gentle, genuine smile, looking at the man in front of you with tenderness.

The brief moment was interrupted by a group of stewards who came to whisper to Leon about the journey, warning him that he would have to check the carriage, just to make sure it was up to his standards, and take care of a few other things that you didn't quite understand.

With that, the king left with Leon to sort out what had to be done, and he didn't even bother to say goodbye to you.

"If you don't mind, I can take you for a walk." Chris says with a cutting smile, making it almost impossible to say no.

And well, it wasn't as if you had much to do at the moment, so there was no reason to refuse.Not to mention that Chris saw how disconcerted you were.

"Of course, I'm flattered." You say with a sweet smile, walking slowly through the castle as he follows you.

You couldn't think of a nicer person to spend the afternoon with. The man had so much experience, you could talk about so many subjects with him, and yet he could dissect each one perfectly.

You even found common subjects, and before you knew it you had spent the whole afternoon together, in fact it was already evening.

If it were up to you, you'd be talking to him for hours on end, but you knew you had your own things to do, and so did he.

You couldn't complain about the company you'd have for the next few days, it would help you not to feel so alone.It was a real shame when you had to say goodbye, after all, it was time for you to go to your quarters.

"Thanks for the company." You said with a genuine smile, stopping in front of your bedroom door.

Chris smiled, bowing to you, "My pleasure."

You couldn't tell, but from his tone, he seemed to be someone so subdued and gentle. A perfect contrast to Leon's personality.

You keep smiling, preparing to say goodbye to him, "Good evening, Duke."

He then says gently, "Good evening, Princess."

You nod and turn to enter your room, smiling from ear to ear, happy to have had a calmer moment after the recent storms.

"Were you outside at that time?" It was the first thing you heard as soon as you closed the door.

It was enough to make you look around your room, and it didn't take long for you to frown slightly, trying your best to keep your composure.

"Yes, prince. I was with the Duke…" You said quietly, looking at him calmly, acting as if his tone hadn't affected you.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw a sneer forming at the corner of his lips, as he got up from your bed and walked over to you.

"Forgive the inconvenience, princess. However, I don't think it's appropriate for you to stay late in the courtyard…" He begins, looking you up and down as if he were analyzing you, making sure you were in one piece.

You nodded, you could even think and know where this conversation was going. And you'd give in, maybe he'd make some sense.

"I can't imagine why." You say, moving to your dresser, sitting down on the small stool to start removing your jewelry.

It was clear that you knew the reason, yet you wanted him to refresh your memory.

You heard his sigh, as well as his impatient expression as you looked in the mirror.

"You know, princess. It's not proper for a woman to be out and about after eight o'clock, even more so with a man who isn't her husband." Leon says, trying his best to maintain his usual calm and inexpressive appearance.

He was probably only doing it to keep up the appearance of the two of you, so as not to make the situation even worse. You knew it was nothing sentimental, far from jealousy.

He couldn't be jealous of someone he didn't like.

"I don't understand the problem." You said nonchalantly, removing the sparkling necklace that was illuminated by the serene light in the room.

"People will talk, princess." He retorts, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you.

From his point of view, he didn't mind if you had someone else in your life, it would even be better because he would be free. But there was a contract to fulfill, a farce to maintain. And he was mad if he chose to compromise it in such a way.

You just smiled, raising your eyebrows while still admiring yourself in the mirror, "People talk about so many things."

You knew you had been bold, and that you had even overstepped the mark. But the look on his face was priceless.

He knew what you were referring to, he knew perfectly well where your hint had been directed.

You watched his lips press together in irritation as he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't naive and understood the allusion in your words.

And that was all he needed to move closer to you, taking the opportunity to place his cold hand on your shoulder, as if to make you feel his presence, or even to remind you of why he was here.

"We shouldn't give way to unnecessary speculation." He says seriously, putting both hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror.

You'd be lying if you said his touch didn't send shivers down your spine, making you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

As well as the gasp you couldn't contain as soon as you felt his lips on your ear, his warm breath against your skin, unconsciously making you clutch the fabric of your dress tightly.

"We should avoid misunderstandings. You know…" He whispers, making a point of keeping his piercing blue eyes on you.

He knew the power he had over you, and wouldn't hesitate to use a little manipulation to keep you under control.

You turned your face towards him, getting so close that your lips were almost touching, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against yours.

If you looked closely, you could see that the distance in his gaze had gone, and deep down there was a new expression in those eyes that were so cold.

Sympathy? Inquisitiveness? Apprehension?

You couldn't say for sure, but it was something new. You risked saying that maybe, just maybe, he was seeing you differently.

It was a low blow on his part, but he had you at his mercy, and he was willing to use that to his advantage.

"Avoiding misunderstandings…" You murmured, not failing to look him in the eye for a second.

The closeness was enough to make you feel butterflies in your stomach, to make your breathing quicken without the slightest intention.

"Yes, dear." The nickname that rolled off his lips so naturally that you believed the tenderness in his voice.

He moved away from you with a calculated elegance, looking at your features through the mirror. He knew he had won this time.

You sighed discreetly, straightening your posture as you stared at him.

God, how could he have such an effect on you?

He knew you'd gotten the message, he knew he'd made it perfectly clear what he wanted. It didn't take long for him to realize that his words had already been absorbed by you, and he wasn't going to repeat them.

"I wish you a good night, Your Highness." He says with a brief, sideways smile, then leaves your room.

You stare at the closed door, feeling your heart flutter in such a way.

Did he really think of you like that?

Dear… That's what he called you.

Oh, heavens. How you'd beg just to hear him call you 'my dear'.

Just once more.

It couldn't hurt, could it?

[moonlightpetalz6]

When You're Gone (Part 2)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

a/n: Sorry this took a bit to post! I really got into writing these three!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone. 

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji. 

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end. 

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses. 

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife. 

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket. 

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly. 

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift. 

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing. 

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle. 

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval. 

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret. 

"For forming a crush on you of course!" 

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could. 

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit." 

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration. 

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed, a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with. 

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes. 

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire. 

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun. 

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but….there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a hand out towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world'll hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable. 

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat. 

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole. 

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and your suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him. 

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world. 

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically. 

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side. 

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply. 

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos. 

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…" 

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease. 

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears. 

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.  

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved. 

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration. 

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another. 

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair. 

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes. 

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home. 

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?" 

______________________________________________________________

A/n: I hope you all enjoyed part 2! I can't wait to create more for you all!

[kayunivy]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[litnerdwrites]

Feyre betrayed Nesta in the worst way...

It's a common stance that many people, regardless of if they love or hate Nesta/Rhys/the IC, seem to have, but I don't think it is. Was Nesta complacent in keeping it from her since she found out? Yes. Was that wrong of her? Yes again. Was blurting it out the way that she did also not ideal, to put it mildly? Absolutely yes. But was it out of malice? No.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'

The idea that this was all said in malice just never sat right to me, and after scrolling through some comments on a video discussing the matter, the pieces finally clicked into place. First, let's talk about the hike, though.

Her breakdown after that hike wasn't a moment of catharsis and letting walls down. It was a weeks worth of exhaustion, dehydration and depression that resulted in Nesta giving in to the torture she was put through just to end it. It was a pivotal moment in the IC's efforts to break and then reconstruct her to their liking, or rather, to Feyre's liking. However, a vital stepping stone in reaching this point would be for them to gaslight and isolate her until she truly had no one. I mentioned before that I didn't think anyone in the NC would chose Nesta, and this is an example of why I believe that.

Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'

Nesta is clearly upset and hurting and Feyre disregards that entierly, not even offering to discuss or find out why Nesta is hurt or feeling the way she is. Feyre didn't bother to try and understand Nesta before and she isn't bothering now. Either Feyre assumes she knows what Nesta is thinking/ feeling, or she just doesn't care. She dismisses her, telling her to go back to her prison, disregarding Nesta's choices, autonomy and opinions again.

If I recall right, it was Amren who informed Nesta that she was free to go where she wanted if she made it down the ten thousand steps. Feyre wouldn't order Amren, even to stand up for her sister, but happily go against Amren's own words to punish Nesta? Hypocrisy at it's finest.

All of this leads to one outcome: Nesta feeling trapped. Cornered and without a single ally in the whorld who would defend her properly. Isolated from anyone who'd be willing to treat her with decency, while believing she doesn't even deserve the basics of kindness. It leaves Nesta more prone to actually going through with committing suicide, since the behaviour of these people, mixed with her own self hatred, sets a precedent for how Nesta believe she'd be treated.

We see this when Nesta first meets Emerie, thinking to herself that 'the invitations would stop' when Emerie learned what nesta was really like. Or at least what Nesta perceived herself to be like.

Even though Nesta has Emerie and Gwyn, she has no reason to think, based on what brainwashing the IC has already done coupled with her self deprecating mindset, that they wouldn't side with the IC. This isn't to say Emerie and Gwyn are like the IC by any means. I think they're great friends to Nesta, and if that changes or not later on is more so up to SJM and her writing, rather than their characterisation. It's the reality that the IC have created for Nesta through abuse, gaslighting and borderline torture that's wound up feeding in to Nesta's already existing trauma and self worth that has lead to her becoming isolated this way.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'

The comment on the video I saw explained that, while Nesta was angry when saying this, she wasn't trying to hurt Feyre or take her anger out on anyone. Nesta was angry because she wasn't told that she made a new trove. She was angry that these people had the audacity to vote on her life, and take bodily autonomy from her. She was angry that Feyre wasn't acknowledging or even trying to understand how Nesta was feeling. She was angry that she was treated like the bad guy- or more like a petulant child in this scene, I suppose- and had her feelings dismissed again.

Dismissed the way her mother/grandmother used to when she was trained. The way her father did when he refused to hunt. The way the Mortal Queens did when Nesta merely asked them to save her people. The way Feyre did when she asked for Nesta's help again, and again, and again during the war, only for it to never be enough in the eyes of other. The way that Elain did when she got upset at Nesta time and time again for how she handled her trauma or how she wasn't over her trauma or how Nesta tried to protect her. The way Cassian dismissed her feelings when he got mad at her for having an opinion of Rhysand.

Nesta was angry. She had every right to be angry. Most people would be angry, and alone, and if they already had suicidal thoughts like Nesta, having been abandoned by everybody while gaslit into thinking it was fine, and then only called upon to be used for the benefit of others while the snickered behind her back and dismissed her again.

As the commenter put it; She was trying to find someone who would relate to her anger. Nesta wanted an ally, someone who wouldn't leave her alone. Someone to be by her side and, perhaps subconsciously, thought that Feyre, who'd hunted for them and helped look after them for years, would chose Nesta's side.

The parallels between Nesta and Feyre's situation here are clear, and I think Nesta understood that when she said what she said. I think that Feyre believing Nesta said it to hurt her was a gross misunderstanding on her part, but it's not like she ever asked Nesta how she felt. Now that I think about it, for all that Feyre talks about Nesta feeling too much, and taking everything to heart, she never once confirms with Nesta. Never asks how Nesta feels.

Since coming to the Night Court, Nesta's feelings and traumas have been twisted and spoken about only in relation to how Feyre feels.

'Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends-my family- had to hear all about it?'

The intervention began, not because of Nesta doing something to risk hurting herself, but because Feyre was embarrassed and started crying into her breakfast.

'All of it pains me… It pains me that Nesta has become… this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other’s throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too.'

Cassian is pained, not because Nesta is suffering so greatly that she isolated herself for her own sisters (who didn't really act like sisters between the end of ACOWAR to... well now, so it's understandable), or because Nesta felt her only reprieve from her pain was in sex and alcohol, but because Feyre hurts over it. He knows Nesta does (but he doesn't know she hates fire? Or is uncomfortable at their social gatherings, since in ACOFS he somehow hoped she wouldn't take the bribe money and say she enjoyed their solstice party??? Because...Why?) But, of course, it's Feyre's feelings on the matter that are prioritised.

'Nesta is Nesta. She does what she wants, even if it kills her sister.'

Rhysand, not that I expect much from him, honestly, is utpse, not because he can't find a way to help Nesta. Not because his court is actively cruel to Nesta, hell, he joins in. Not because Nesta is in pain, in no small part because of him and his court. Not even because Nesta is spending his money. Because she's upsetting Feyre. Because, god forbid, Nesta have trauma and handle it in a way that doesn't make his wife happy.

Feyre tells others how she thinks Nesta feels, the others go with it, or just come to their own conclusions, not sure which is worse, but nobody stops to consider how she feels. Feyre feeling like Nesta said it to hurt her, I think, is simply proof that she doesn't understand Nesta.

Let me ask you, if you found out you were lied to in a way that affects your ability to make informed decisions regarding your own body, by someone you were supposed to trust, and who should've had your back, and that your own sibling has been betrayed by the same people in a very similar, if not identical way, and yet you're the one being turned into the bad guy, and dismissed, would that not make you feel isolated and frustrated?

It's understandable that Nesta tried, either consciously or subconsciously, feel less alone by appealing to common ground to find an ally. Nesta mentions at the end of ACOSF that she believes Feyre loved her from the start, and after those years in the cabin, I think Nesta sees Feyre as someone reliable.

This scene doesn't feels like Nesta trying to hurt Feyre. It feels like Nesta trying to reach out to the one person she could rely on; Feyre. Her mother was abusive, her father was a deadbeat, Elain was her ward, and the IC hate her.

'Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub, anymore. I have to use buckets.” I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging water…'

Amren tells Cassian to keep reaching out his hand, even though Nesta has reached out her own time and time again. Esspecially to Feyre, as she was the one Nesta relied on before. Possibly even the only person Nesta has ever relied on, and Fyre was the one she was trying to rely on now.

Nesta relied on Feyre, and needed to rely on her again. To have strength together, in a situation where they both lost their choices and autonomy to Rhysand and his (cause don't pretend it's even slightly Feyre's) IC.

It may have been wrong to say it in that way, at that time, under those circumstances, but this, to me, feels like Nesta's way of reaching out her own hand only to be misunderstood, punished, and dismissed again. And again. And again.

In a way, I think Feyre might have, unintentionally, betrayed Nesta in a worse way than Elain ever has. Elain was a ward. Almost like a child, to Nesta. They were never on equal footing. Moreover, Nesta was never punished if she upset Elain, no that she should be, or if Elain misunderstood her. Nesta never relied on Elain the way she relied on Feyre. She never trusted or had faith in Elain, the way she clearly trusted Feyre. She had thought she'd found an ally, with similar pain, in Feyre, in the moments she spilled the secret, but Feyre didn't care.

When I was reading the scene where Cassian told Feyre his idea to take Nesta on a punishment hike, she sounded all too gleeful when telling him how miserable Nesta would be. That, in my opinion, is the worst betrayal of all.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 4 - Thin Ice | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: Moving on to Casterly Rock for the next round of the tour, Aemond has some explaining to do | Word Count: 7.4k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: Aemond being a general raging dickhead, classism, sexual tension 😘, swearing, heavy petting

A/N: I feel like apologising for long chapters is beyond me at this point. But ohohoho we getting into itttt~

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

It turned out that alone, never really meant alone.

Alone in the sense that Aemond and yourself would be carted around by the various staff at Hightower Management, put into various hotels and expected to keep up with training, without the keen eyes of Otto nor Alicent watching over either of you.

Part of you was excited about the notion of a tour. But the more dominant part was immensely nervous. Without Helaena or Aegon to take the edge of Aemond’s personality, it might be silent torture or it might be entirely indifferent, as you and Aemond had been throughout the match and after-party well over a week ago and, as well as the time in between.

It was sort of routine now, the way you both trained. Only speaking to one another if you had to.

Even then, he did seem a little chattier. But it was a miniscule difference.

He’d not said a thing about his ex-dinosaur-girlfriend (as Helaena so carefully put it) being at the after-party. Not like he would say anything to you anyway, but still, what was that all about?

Helaena had told you as much as she could really, given all she knew being on the outside. Alys was twenty years Aemond’s senior, now in her mid-forties you surmise from the timeline. Besides grossing you out mildly, Helaena had bestowed her knowledge that as soon as Alicent found out about the supposed relationship, it was immediately put to an end.

Enter. The pregnancy scandal. Alys had approached Otto in a very business-like manner, breaking the news she was pregnant and that it had been Aemond’s, despite the timing of it clearly not matching up. Alicent was absolutely beside herself, which knowing her now you’re not sure if you could picture it, and insisted that it was entirely not true and that Alys had just wanted money.

Aemond’s or not, she was paid a handsome sum to keep quiet. And in the end? It turned out she wasn’t pregnant in the first place.

“I wouldn’t have told you if you hadn’t seen her at the party, as it’s not really my story to tell”, Helaena had said.

It left a bad taste in your mouth when she finished explaining. If that was all true, why the hell would she turn up to the after-party with the necklace Aemond had gifted her all those years ago? Why would she even get involved with a man twenty years her junior? It reeked somewhat of grooming, etching a permanent frown into your features at the memory of Aemond at the party, his shoulders rolled forwards, looking down and shrinking in her presence.

He looked so small then.

That’s all you could think about as you both sat in the back seats of the car driven by a man called Arryk Cargyll, who would be transporting and looking after you both since Criston was attending to Helaena and Aegon on the other side of the tour. He was significantly chattier and less stone-faced than Criston, which you chalked up to him being probably younger.

But even then, he barely spoke a word the entire way to your first stop of the tour. Casterly Rock, hosted by Jason and Johanna Lannister, representing the Westerlands.

At least the hotel was nice. You and Aemond had separate rooms next to one another. And aside from the odd light switch and the hum of the shower, he didn't make himself known.

Even now, as you sat on the bed, clad in black sweatpants and a sports bra, having visited the hotel gym, you listened to the shower through the walls in the quietness of the late evening. Staring off into space. The intrusive thought of Aemond showering briefly zipping through your brain and not at all imagining-

Incoming Video Call from El 🦌

Thank the gods for that.

You swipe the screen, greeted with the smiling face of Ellyn sat on what used to be your shared sofa.

"There's my hoe" she lovingly calls, stuffing a crisp into her mouth.

You hum a laugh, "Charming El" you smile, moving to lay on your front so you can prop the phone up, "What's the occasion? Do you miss me that much?"

She rolls her eyes, "Fuck off. I always miss you" she smiles brightly, "Forgive me for wanting to check in on my amazingly successful figure skating queen"

"Amazingly successful, huh?" You joke, "High praise coming from Floris' sister. How is she by the way?"

"She's fine. Getting discharged soon they think, she messed it up pretty bad" Ellyn shrugs, "hey, you might see Maris when you're out there"

"I'll give her a big sloppy kiss for you" you smirk.

Ellyn pulls a face, "Don't do that she'll punch you in the face"

You laugh. She absolutely would as well. The Four Storms indeed.

"I saw your Instagram pictures. You look fit" she says with a mouth full of crisps, "Anyway, who you dressed up for in there?"

You look down at your outfit, furrowing your brows, "A sports bra?" You joke, "Hardly dressed up, El"

She smirks, "How are things with Aemond?"

"Oh for fucks sake…" you roll your eyes, hearing her cackle through the phone, "Well, we didn't start the greatest"

"Tough crowd?"

"He may have insinauted I wouldn't handle it because I wasn't from any notable house"

Her mouth drops open.

"Death. He deserves death"

You laugh loudly, covering your mouth, "El!"

"Did you put him in his place?"

"Tried to!"

"I bet he went real quiet after you showed him up at that match!"

You smile at her, "Oh you watched that?"

"Course I did!" She returns, "not fair you looking like a snack on the ice like that. You could tell you didn't like each other though"

Ooft. "Yeah…" you trail off, "...it's a work in progress"

"I take it you haven't smashed yet then?"

"El!"

"What!" She shouts back, making the phone crackle due to her volume, "Just cos he's a dick doesn't mean he's unfuckable"

El, you're making it really hard to deny it right now by confirming my exact thought process.

You sigh, "I'm not fucking him, El. He hates me"

"Do you hate him?"

You bite your lip, "I tolerate"

"Fucking liar" she sneers, "anyway I gotta go, I'll watch your next match. Slay all day, love you!"

You sigh, dropping your phone, listening as the hum of his shower stops, and the bedroom light switch clicks against the wall.

How did you end this conversation thinking about Aemond having a shower more?!

Stop that. Bad girl.

You could hear him plug in what you assumed was a phone charger into the wall, something akin to bed slats cracking a second later with the weight of him slipping into bed.

His bed was right next to the wall, the same as yours.

You tapped your phone anxiously, biting your lip as if something were on your mind.

But you didn't have the heart to even tell yourself what you were thinking about.

Or rather who.

The bitterness of hotel coffee never fails to make you wince as you sit in the fancy hotel foyer, dressed in your usual all black sportswear while the space around you looks indicative of a Greek palace, all cream and decorated with keen detail.

Casterly Rock is unnaturally hot right now, so all you’re able to manage is a sports bra and a thin crop top on your torso, with of course, leggings on your bottom. Your foot taps impatiently, waiting for Aemond to come out of his room so Arryk can drive you to the ice rink for morning practice, raising an eyebrow when you look at the clock on the wall and see it’s already 6am.

He’s never usually late.

Arryk walks towards you with an unnatural spring in his step to say how early in the morning it is, smiling beneath his facial hair, looking entirely put together in the suit he wears. Does he wear that everyday?

“Aemond will be a while yet, shall I get you to the rink first so you don’t lose out on practice?”

You nod, downing the rest of the coffee to give you some semblance of life, standing up to follow him, “Sure, thank you”

You follow him to the car, sliding into the passenger seat, rubbing your eyes.

“Is he alright?” you ask, as Arryk pulls his seatbelt on.

He nods, putting the car into gear and setting off, “He’ll be alright. Just a small headache. The eye sometimes gives him some bother”

You drive in silence for a bit, the roads mostly clear from how early it still is.

“Have you been with them long? Working for them I mean?” you ask, trying to fill the silence with something.

“A while. I joined after Aemond’s accident”

You swallow.

The accident.

Sensing your silence, Arryk looks over briefly, “You don’t know?”

You shrug, shaking your head, “I figured if he wanted to tell me he would”

Arryk nodded and turned away again, clearing his throat with his eyes back on the road. He didn’t say anything else until you arrived at the ice rink, obviously not wanting to let slip any sensitive information that Aemond wouldn’t have wanted to share. But it was clear he knew.

It felt like everyone around you knew some kind of secret, and you were purposefully being kept on the outside, but just within reach.

This ice rink was by no means large and you’re thankful at least that it’s empty, so that you can do the pre-practice stretches in relative peace. You just stick your airpods in and play whatever you have on shuffle, using the free time Aemond isn’t here to start on the ice.

It’s nice every once in a while since starting training with Aemond, to have everything to yourself, music in your ears, hair down, the breeze of the air conditioning through your locks. Sometimes you find yourself just gliding, eyes closed and inhaling slowly and purposefully through your nose, letting the smells around you fill your senses.

After doing countless laps and trying certain jumps you know you’d be doing with Aemond later, you look at the clock. 45 minutes have passed and still no sign of Aemond.

Feeling entirely too hot from the exertion of practising, you huff and tug the shirt you’re wearing off, leaving yourself in only the sports bra.

Modesty be damned, I’m too fucking hot for this.

Tugging it over your head, adjusting the sports bra underneath, you don’t even register the double doors opening with the airpods blasting in your ears. It’s only when the flash of white hair passes as you slide along the ice, that you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Fucking hell” you mutter quietly, pulling out your airpods quickly.

Aemond shucks his bag onto the floor, not making eye contact as he slips onto the bench with his skates in his hands. He looks more irritable than usual, dropping his skates with a sort of carelessness you wouldn’t usually associate with him.

You watch his face, tense and irritated, looking down as he ties them, his eyebrows drawn together.

Skating up to the edge, you bite your lip, wondering if you should say anything at all. Would it just make him more difficult? Would he just stay quiet?

“Are you okay?” you ask, coming out more weakly than intended.

“Yes” he answers harshly, unconvincing, “Fine, clearly”

Woah, okay.

You lean over the edge on your elbows, watching as he fails to tie his skates the first time, cursing to himself at having to do it again, irritably looping them once more.

“Arryk said you had a headache”

Sighing once he’s double tied his laces, he leans on his knees, finally looking up at you, his whole body tense and rigid. He doesn’t say a thing. He just stares, as if he’s shocked you had the audacity to even talk to him, his glass eye reflected in the sharp blue tone of the lights.

It's like all the air has been sucked out the room. And the world only has you two left in it. The way he stares makes you both uncomfortable and breathless at the same time.

And you're unsure if you think it's a good thing.

A glimpse of what he acted like when you first met is there, watching the way his grip is tight, his forearms taut and shoulders hunched.

He opens his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“I have some ibuprofen…if you want it”

His mouth closes instantly. And his brow softens somewhat, although not unwinding entirely. His gaze falls to the floor for a moment, and he nods, looking completely resigned, much like he did on the night he talked to Alys Rivers.

Like a child in pain.

Hopping off the ice, you rifle through your bag that’s seated next to him, eventually extending the pills to him. He moves his head, his good eye starting at your legs and running over the entirety of you, before looking at your eyes. It makes you go all warm, watching the way he pauses at your middle, where the slightest bit of skin shows beneath the sports bra.

“Thanks” he says quietly, taking the pills from you and popping some out the foil. His fingers graze yours only slightly, and you press your lips together, turning away from him quickly to get back on the ice.

Your chest feels all hot and tight. Must be the hotel breakfast. That bacon did taste funny.

Something inside tightens as you turn to watch him swallow some water, watching the muscles of his neck. And then his large hands palm at his hair, pulling it to the back to tie it haphazardly, with no real care as several strands fall out from his grasp.

Why is that kind of hot.

What is wrong with me.

This is Aemond we’re talking about.

Despite knowing that there is no way those pills have kicked in yet, he tugs at his shirt as he gets out on the ice. He has one hand occupied with his phone as he meets you in the middle.

“Fuck. Speaker’s not working” he murmurs, fumbling with the settings on his phone.

“Oh”

You move from right leg to left leg, anxiously. Pulling at the fabric of your leggings while you think of a solution.

“We could uh…use my airpods” you respond, pulling the case out, “one each?”

He only moves his eye to meet you, his mouth wrinkled down in disgust. For some reason it makes you laugh.

“Oh come on, they’re not dirty” you smile, handing him one, “business partners, right?” you say, sticking the left one in your own ear.

Not friends.

Business partners.

He sighs, reluctantly sticking the right one in. You put the music you’ll be performing in a few days on repeat, sticking the phone into your sports bra in lieu of pockets.

“Give it to me” Aemond says, one hand limply extended.

“What?”

He looks at you, “Your phone” he adds, “I have pockets”

You pull an awkward face, swallowing thickly.

For some reason retrieving the phone from the sports bra feels weirder than putting it there, especially when you hand it to him and he presses it against his thigh to stuff into his zip pocket. God his hands are so massive now when compared to the size of the phone.

Stop. That.

Oh gods, was I sweaty. That’s so gross if I was.

He luckily doesn’t comment on anything like that. A small mercy.

You practise one. Two. Three times. The clock ticks by quickly as you're both immersed in training. Trying various parts of the routines, as well as a particularly difficult new jump, one that at first you have some trouble with.

Aemond throws you in the air and you have to spin three times, timing it perfectly so that your front is against his in time for him to push you back for the exit, hands joined.

It’s had…questionable results so far.

Misjudging how quickly you need to spin in the air, your feet aren’t in the right position and you fall chest to chest with Aemond, his arms reaching around you to make sure you don’t slip.

“Shit!” you whisper, annoyed at yourself, “Sorry”

You hate that when he catches you, his grip on your bare arms, that you can’t help but blush, every hair standing on end. Especially when he looks down at you, hoisting you up back on your skates once you’re balanced, “You okay?”

Completely too annoyed at yourself to care right now about the proximity, you shake your head, “Can’t hack that one”

Aemond bites his cheek, “Let’s try a double spin first then”

Realising you’re still very close, you skate back, clearing your throat, “You sure?..”

He shrugs, “We can work up to the triple if we want, but as long as we do a throw, still counts”

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ears, “Sure..”

If there is something you’ve noticed since you met and began working with Aemond, it’s that his style of skating, much like Helaena’s and Aegon’s, is very technical. Calculated. Overly-thought out.

Much like ballet, figure skating is as much about performance and emotion, than technical ability. Unfortunately for Aemond.

He’s so pragmatic about his approach that there’s barely room for any real emotion in his performance. He’s always straight-faced, tight-lipped. So much so, you wonder if he actually enjoys any of it.

As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. Starting with the double was an easier approach, and it came more naturally. So when you did several attempts after the triple, tucking your arms in on yourself for the spin, the last few were landed, making your insides swell with pride. Eventually, you look at the clock and wince at the time, so both of you take a break for a much needed drink.

After having crossed the technical bridge, time for the emotional one you suppose? No harm in asking, right?

“Can I ask you something?” you ask quietly, leaning backwards against the ledge, arms rested on it.

Aemond’s eye finds you mid-sip of his water bottle, and he licks his lips, his weight on one leg, wordlessly urging you to continue.

You swallow, wondering how best to word it, “Do you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy what?”

Isn’t it obvious?

Your eyes zip around briefly, “This? Figure skating?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. Answering your question without needing words.

“I enjoy it enough”

Enough.

Aemond is so guarded. Even now, he holds his arms over his chest, protecting his heart. Silence stretches between you at his answer, as unconvincing as it was, you nod your head with eyebrows raised, not wanting to say anything more that might dampen the mood on your training for today.

Being around him is like stepping around a sleeping dragon. One brush against it, however soft it would be, it’d wake in a sort of angered panic, assuming danger.

That is how you would describe him. Whatever you said or did, it’d be interpreted as an attack.

“You don’t believe me” he responded after some time.

As much as you feel you dislike him, you can’t lie to him, so you shrug, “Not really”

He narrows his eyes, “Why”

Fucking hell. Here we go. Now I’ve done it.

You sigh, already feeling an argument brewing where you hadn’t intended, “I think it’s no secret that when you perform you look like you’d rather be anywhere else” you say, shifting about on your skates, stretching your arms anxiously, “Unless you’re just like that with me” you add, under your breath.

He rolls his eye somewhat, humming. In neither acceptance nor denial.

Was that a yes? No?

“I just think if we’re going to stand a chance in these Championships we should at least make the effort with performance. For the scores” you nod to him, “That’s all I’m saying”

Aemond scoffs, “Oh, so you think you’re giving me advice now?”

Oh there’s the sleeping dragon.

Your head retracts, shocked by the sudden sass. Maybe the ibuprofen has kicked in, “We’re skating partners, aren’t we? You don’t value my good opinion, seeing as, shockingly, I existed as a skater before I met you?”

He shakes his head, as if amused, “Just find it funny”

You bite your lip, now visibly annoyed. Your skin blooms in frustration. Not this shit again. No fucking way.

“Funny in the sense that you still think that just because I’m of no notable house, not so far up my own ass I can’t see the sun and not such a nepo-baby that-”

“I fucking told you not to call me that” he snaps, his eye now serious, his stance too as he pushes off the ledge to stand before you.

You shrug, “Is that not what you are?” you challenge, “Your brother and sister get to represent the Reach just because your mother is from Oldtown, and you make it to the Championships every time despite not being able to show a slither of emotion on your face-”

“It’s because I’m fucking good at it” he counters, “Emotions has nothing to do with it”

“Doesn’t it? You can be good at it, but you don’t fucking like it”

He goes all quiet, his fist clenched at his side, shaking.

“It’s as clear to the judges as it is to anyone, you don’t enjoy it. I don’t doubt you probably did at some point”

He swallows, as if preparing himself for what he’s about to say.

“And because you’re so perfect?”

“Didn’t say I was-”

“Yeah, that’s because you’re not” he interrupts, making you go quiet and still, “Don’t you dare try to act all high and mighty to me. My family is well-established and good at it. There doesn’t need to be a deep and meaningful reason why I do it. I don’t need to dig deep to find any semblance of purpose in my life, unlike your shitty one. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t let the likes of your class skate at all-”

Aemond stops his chaotic ramble when he finally turns to look at you, seeing the horrified and tearful expression on your face after you’d heard him say it in his fit of rage. His face drops instantly, replaying what he’d said. It didn’t seem like him at all, to go on such a rampage of horrible words.

It felt like someone was speaking through him. Like he was a puppet on a string, performing the actions of others.

But he had said it nonetheless.

You laugh weakly, feeling your insides twist painfully.

“My class, huh?...” you repeat, shoving the knife inside him deeper. The word seems to make him shudder now, despite him being the one who said it.

If you didn’t laugh you’d cry. So you did just that.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel so disgusted to have people of my class doing your sport” you respond, skating backwards away from him.

With tears covering your vision, making the ice look like one big blob of white, all you manage is, “Fuck you, Aemond”

You hear his voice, once, twice, calling your name. The last time is exasperated, carried with a sigh once he realises that you’re too angry right now to even hear him. It all happens so quick you don’t have time to think, the way you pull your skates off without untying them first, hurtling your bag over your shoulder and pushing the doors open so hard they bang against the wall, filling the empty sounding room with an echoed slam.

You don’t look back at him. He doesn’t fucking deserve it.

You don’t even text Arryk to come pick you up. You just walk, legs carrying you as quickly as you’re able, one in front of the other and counting up and down in your head in an effort to calm yourself down. The air was hot and oppressive around you, closing in, making you feel even smaller than Aemond had just a few minutes before.

No tears. Don’t cry. He doesn’t deserve them.

He doesn’t deserve them.

If it were up to me, I wouldn’t let the likes of your class skate at all.

The replay of the words breaks you and you hurl your bag at the closest wall, but it does nothing to expel the annoyance and frustration you feel inside. The skates inside the bag make it so heavy that it falls to the floor with a thud. You stand there watching, breathing heavily in the air of the early afternoon.

For a small, brief flicker of a moment, you regret throwing your bag with the skates inside. Knowing that it was Rhaenys who gifted you them, and that an argument with Aemond didn’t excuse treating such nice things in that way. All the emotions you have kept back are still there, sitting behind your eyes.

Not in public.

So with a resigned sigh, you pick the bag up and walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get back to the hotel, hoping and praying to every god there is that Arryk or Aemond doesn’t see you on the way back in the car.

The hotel is luckily air conditioned. You can't tell if you're hot because it genuinely is hot, or if you're just so angry you might literally be steaming.

So intent on making a beeline to your hotel room, you nearly collide fully with a familiar brunette.

"Shit! Sorry, I wasn't look-Johanna!" You sigh, red-faced, looking right into her deep brown eyes, that are crinkled up with a smile.

"Gods, you look…hot, and not in the good way" she remarks, her eyes looking over you. You can't help but look at her outfit, all a lovely golden colour that suits her in its entirety.

Instinctively, you wipe your neck, embarrassed at how you must look.

"Yeah, I uh, just came back from training"

She looks around, "Where's your partner? Aemond"

"Oh, uh, he decided to hang back" you lie with a smile, hoping it lands. But her smile indicates that she knows it's not entirely true.

Her deep brown eyes look over your expression, her lips tightening into a reassuring line that’s akin to a smile, “I get it, you know” she says, to which you cock your head, “Not being on good terms with your skating partner”

She sees the way your eyes go wide, and your mouth opens to contradict, “Save it. It’s obvious”

Fuck. Is it really that obvious?

“If it were up to Jason, he’d have stopped competing ages ago” she muses, eyes flickering to the floor every once in a while, tugging her jacket around her tighter, “It’s me who’s the competitive one”

“But you two skate so well together?” you ask, confused. They’d always been very good skaters together, only spurred on by the fact that they were married.

Johanna laughs, “I’m not stupid. I know Jason’s fucking around on me” she admits without a hint of weakness in her tone, “It’s the least I can do to get back at him, forcing him to compete with me”

Part of you feels sad for her that she knows he’s cheating, but can do nothing about it. But you can’t help the mischievous smile on your face at her so-called ‘revenge’. You’re at least grateful that the person you’ll be up against tomorrow isn’t so hell-bent on winning that she’s outright mean to you.

After a moment, she taps your shoulder, “It’ll be alright. Show him what you’re made of”

You blink, still smiling from her quip before. Even when she leaves the foyer, you stay planted on the spot, bag digging into your shoulder from its heavy contents, feeling the familiar heaviness in your stomach as well.

Show him what I’m made of?

I tried that already. And it still wasn’t enough.

If there’s anything to be grateful for, it’s that Aemond isn’t back at the hotel yet.

But it is only in the sweet relief of silence in your hotel room that you realise…

Great. He still has my phone.

It doesn’t take long for you to really wallow in self-destructive feelings. Stipped down to your baggy clothes, sat in bed, flicking through the terrible hotel channels that are just not doing it for you, and picking at several crisps and popping them into your mouth.

Knock Knock.

It almost makes you jump out of your skin, however soft the knock was.

Your jaw clenches when Aemond’s voice calls your name, staring at the door as if looking right through it.

He sighs, his voice muffled, “Come on, I know you’re in there” he says quietly. You can hear him shuffle from foot to foot. You can imagine him, standing there, with his hands stuffed into his pockets, his leg shaking while he turns his thoughts over in his head.

He sighs again.

"Please"

Part of you wants to smile at the way he says it. Like it's hurting every little bit of him inside to even consider apologising. But the thought of the smile never really comes to a full one on your face, and your lips continue to turn down into a frown, watching his shadow moving side to side underneath the crack of the door.

You didn’t move an inch. You just watched as he stayed for longer than you thought he would.

The shadow moved, and your phone slid face down under the door, before his footsteps were muffled and far away down the hall. You heard his hotel room door close softly, the light switch clicked against the wall, and the bed slats once again creaked louder as he flopped down on it.

Knowing he is right there, on the opposite side of the wall, no longer gives you that fluttering feeling. It makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable that he’s so close without seeing him. Restless.

Padding over to the door to retrieve your phone. Several messages line the home screen, obscuring the view of your background, you and Ellyn at the ice rink for Christmas and her falling into your arms, not being quite as adept at the skill as her sisters. It never fails to make you smile.

Rhaenys - Manager: 3 unread messages

El 🦌 - 1 unread message

Unknown number - 5 new messages

You cock your head somewhat at the unknown number. And with 5 new texts from it too.

Swiping open your phone, you're met with the absolute essay of the text from the unknown number.

Fuck that, I'm not reading it without a drink in my hand.

So you sit on the bed, a can of gin and tonic in one hand, scrolling through the long text.

At first it doesn't really make sense.

You raise an eyebrow. Reading on.

You swallow, reading all of the words.

You hate that you laugh at that last bit. You can imagine him pacing around, seeing the unread texts he'd sent and hitting himself realising your phone had been in his pocket the whole time.

Something squeezes tight in your chest, reading all of it over one more time.

Aemond hadn't apologised. Not specifically anyway.

I didn't mean any of it.

You sigh, tipping your head back against the headboard with a light thud, staring up at the ceiling of the hotel.

It's late. The match against the Lannisters is tomorrow.

Do you forgive him?

It felt wrong to forgive him for what he'd said, especially after all the times he'd been rude to you before.

Forgiveness would imply that he'd apologised, which he hadn't. You felt like you at least deserved that. And if he couldn't give that to you…

You save his number under ⛸️. Not having the energy to write his name right now.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, your leg moving erratically. Thinking of what to say back.

Be civil. But not too nice. Otherwise he might think it's all good.

You didn't want him to think that.

So you settled for something simple. Something indifferent.

Being in the dressing room without Alicent to fuss over your skates compared to now, sitting in front of the vanity, alone, with your hands clenched tight in front of you, it makes the loneliness tug at your heart. Sitting heavily in your chest.

You should feel pretty. Your outfit is a standard leotard with mesh detailing at the collar, short sleeves, little rhinestones dotted on the skirt to catch the light. The fabric was white, similar to the one you wore at the first match, but not exactly the same, and you can imagine what it would look like when you were skating, capturing the glimmer of the lights and cutting through the air like a whisper.

You’d done your hair yourself, half up half down. With a silver ornament at the back to keep it secure. The pieces that were pulled at the front were waved to the best of your ability, hair sprayed within an inch of their life to stay that way. Your makeup was the same, a barely-there approach, as it was all you were comfortable with.

But you didn’t feel pretty.

Aemond hadn’t replied after what you’d said the night before. You watched as the three bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times, but in the end it was clear he was intent to leave you to your thoughts and give some semblance of space. Since he said himself, he knew he’d fucked up.

You weren’t sure if you were relieved or not that he didn’t reply. All you could think about right now was the match, the move you had practised the day before, and how you were going to best execute it.

“Triple spin in the air, land on the right leg…” you mumbled, tracing the steps of the routine in your head.

The door to your dressing room swung open and your eyes locked eyes with Aemond’s in the mirror. Your heart lurched into your throat seeing him, after what had happened in the last 24 hours, with your partnership potentially hanging by a thread. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, sensing that you really didn’t know what to say.

He briefly met the gaze before looking down, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. His hair, as opposed to last time, was in a loose bun, straight strands framing his chiselled face.

“We’re on in 10” he said simply, his left leg twitching in barely-contained anxiety. He bit his lip harshly, something akin to irritation gnawing on his insides.

Anxiety you knew didn’t come from performing the routine itself.

He was afraid of what you would do. Or what you would say.

Swinging your legs off the chair, you pull one of your feet up to the cushion, making sure the laces are well tied and in their place, your eyes trained solely on them and not on him, who was still standing by the door, as if guarding it.

“Look, I-”

“I’m fine, Aemond” you interrupt him, lacing the other one, “Let’s just get this over with please”

Aemond looked as if he’d been slapped. Like he did that night when he’d spoken to Alys Rivers.

“I didn’t mean any of it” he continues, despite what you’d said. When you look at him now, standing up on your skates, he chews on his lip, taking his time to make himself look at you. His eye rakes over your outfit for this routine, leg still bouncing, “You look nice, by the way”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Will you stop saying that like we’re friends, Aemond” you snap, “Just business partners, right?”

Aemond sighs, “Will you stop twisting anything I say into an insult about you?”

“So, is that what that was yesterday? Me twisting your words?” you look at him incredulously, daring him to deny it.

“No-fuck-I didn’t say that” he barks back, his volume increasing, clearly struggling to string together the right words he wants, “What I meant was-”

You shake your head, having had enough, “Just leave it, Aemond. I don’t need to hear it, from you in particular. Can you move please?”

He stays stock still against the door, blocking your path, even stepping forward as a means to say he is most certainly not finished. For a brief second, panic flits through you, not quite remembering how tall and broad he is compared to you.

“What I said yesterday was wrong-”

“You’re fucking right, it was wrong!” you bark back this time, stunning him into silence. He wears a stoic look, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“Do you know how hard I worked to get where I am today, despite my class as you so nicely pointed out. If it really offends you so fucking much to be paired with me, then why agree to it in the first place if you’re just going to bitch and whine about it all the damn time!”

“I-”

“No! I deserve to fucking be here, Aemond, just as much as you. I don’t know if I will ever be good enough in your opinion, but I am slowly realising that I don’t care about that. If you don’t think I am good enough to be associated with you or your prestigious family, I am totally fine with th-”

“You are good enough” he says flatly, his eye twitching somewhat as his muscles tense up, “Better than most, in fact”

You scoff, not affected by it now. No way.

“Well, you have a funny fucking way of showing i-”

You didn’t realise it at the time, how close Aemond had really stepped towards you, so embroiled in the argument with him that it didn’t seem to matter. His stance, his attitude, didn’t make you flounder.

But what did make you stiffen up and go hot all over was when Aemond’s hand made its way around your waist to pull you close to him, and his other hand cupped the back of your neck to tug your face flush to his, silencing you with his lips on yours. 

His fingers curled over your skin in a desperate hold, the one around your waist feeling like it was burning a brand right through your outfit. Your hands braced on his chest in shock of what he’d done, fingertips barely touching the skin above his black shirt, so much so you swear you’re able to feel the thrum of his rapid heartbeat.

Just as quickly, he pulls back, his cheeks flushed near-undetectably and his mouth open to breathe, with soft pants coming from his plush pink lips. Your wide eyes flit over his own, from one to the other, to gauge a reaction, despite him being the one who had kissed you. The sapphire glistens in the somewhat low and harsh light of the dressing room and his good eye doesn’t nearly look as blue, but almost so dark from how wide his pupil is dilated, that it’s completely black.

Neither of you wait to see what the other has to say, now that a line has been crossed, it cannot be uncrossed. 

It’s unclear who moves first, but all you know is that you’re kissing again, your hands on his shoulders, his own tightening impossibly around you. You feel the weight of every movement behind his lips, tilting his head to gain better access to your hot and waiting mouth as he slips his tongue against yours, sending off each individual kiss with a wet click. It’s a mess, your teeth knock near-painfully against one another, tongues fighting an ever-losing battle.

Aemond moans low in his throat, almost inaudible as he savours the taste of your mouth, his lips anchoring yours open the entire time. With his weight falling forwards, your backside meets the harsh edge of the vanity, making you wince a gasp quietly into his mouth. It only serves to spur him on, his hands fall to your hips, squeezing the flesh beneath the outfit in his large palms, kneading it as if to commit the contours to memory. As if he thinks he may never get to do this again.

He moves like it’s instinctual, his hands falling to grasp at your buttocks, he growls, lifting them onto the vanity, his hold so tight there that it sends a gush of arousal straight to your centre, especially when Aemond leans forward once more to stand between your legs, his obvious erection slotting neatly against your clothed core. His hips move with the rhythm of your desperate kissing, chasing the friction against your flesh he so desires, and you can tell by the way his lips part against yours, a breathy moan slipping into your mouth.

"Fuck" he breathes quietly.

You moan back when he squeezes your waist tightly, his fingers digging in. Thank the gods, this isn’t a cutout dress, otherwise his fingerprints would be clearly visible in red, digit shaped marks for everyone to see. For some reason, that excites you, a dull buzz making its way up your spine as you increase your hold on his shoulders and then his neck, hanging desperately onto him as he pushes flush with you, his chest almost touching yours.

Aemond’s hand drops to your thigh, squeezing the skin in his fingers, his thumb making its way up until it grazes over your clothed heat. It’s like he knows exactly what to do to you, and his fingers tease your clit through your leotard, pressing softly and drawing a desperate breathy moan from your lips. Your hips move towards him, chasing the brief, softened contact he applies, core clenching around nothing-

“On the ice in 2!” someone says from behind the door.

 

Aemond immediately withdraws, cheeks now genuinely flushed against his pale skin. His wide eye continues to hold your gaze, searching your expression for a reaction to what the two of you just did. 

His throat bobs as he swallows and steps back, peeling his hands off you and adjusting his trousers to hide the tent that has formed, the size of it shamefully impressing you for a second. Your hands pull back slowly, slipping off the vanity on wobbly legs and smoothing the skirt back over yourself, briefly noticing the imprint of his hand marks on your bare thigh.

His hair somewhat dishevelled, he uses his hand to smooth it back down. He wets his lips, missing the door handle once before finally catching it, “See you out there..” he says shakily in a weak voice, before he disappears, leaving the door open.

Leaving you to comprehend this sensation that tugs in your stomach. Leaving you to remember the way he’d just kissed you, just touched you, like nobody had ever done before. Even the mere thought of it makes your chest erupt in pink and flutters settle in your core.

Aemond had just kissed you.

And you liked it.

Shit.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics 

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep ​ | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess | @gaeela-6