#but even in some of the darkest moments of my life I come on here and write about Kaeya and some shit and life gets a little better

[honeykaes]

…2 years today

[daycourtofficial]

I will follow you into the dark

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3k | warnings: character death, depictions of violence and gore, depressive tendencies shown

Summary: going through the five stages of grief after Azriel’s death is much easier with his shadows’ assistance

Alternate summary: “daycourtofficial stabs everyone in the heart” - @milswrites

Author’s note: this is heartbreaking as hell but I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever written. I legitimately sobbed while typing this. Tagging my pookie @illyrianbitch bc I sent her an early draft and her fic ‘when the heart is still longing’ inspired a scene in this

Cold. Ruthless. Calculated.

Words used to describe who Azriel was for the first five hundred years of his life. He wore a mask of indifference, a cold exterior to the world, letting them believe he was nothing more than the cruel exterior he showed everyone past his beloved family.

Until he met you.

You, whose extraordinary kindness and never ending patience for him helped him through the darkest pits of his soul.

It’s this past self he thinks about as the blade meets his skin, tearing through layers of muscle, blood spilling down his chest as it’s removed.

It’s this past self he reaches out to, begging for one moment to go back. To go back and save himself so much time. He would go back, his wings carrying him across Prythian, his landing harsh as he sprinted through your hometown.

He wouldn’t stop until he knocked on your door, his knuckles aching from how hard he would knock. He’d give anything to go back, even if it was just an extra forty-five minutes. He would run until his lungs burned, his legs barely able to hold himself up. He’d run down the cobbled street the two of you would walk down after a night at Rita’s, leaning against each other for support after a night of drinking.

He’d run past the bakery the two of you would meet at every Thursday morning, splitting pastries between the two of you and gossiping about your friends. He’d run up the stairs to your apartment, running up the steps you two walked thousands of times. He’d stop in front of that green door, the spot you two stood in for your first kiss.

He would knock and knock and knock, his fingers bleeding from how hard his knuckles were hitting the wood. He’d look at you as you opened the door, confused as to who he was and what he was doing there.

“You don’t know me, but in a few days I’m going to run into you at the bookstore. I’ll be with my friend Nesta and she’ll push me into you. She’s never admitted it, but I think she saw how I was staring at you and did it to force me to talk to you.

“You were so pretty, paging through some novel. I owe Nesta everything for pushing me into you, making me fall into the chair you were sitting in. It looked ridiculous - Nesta made sure to let Feyre broadcast it to everyone.

“I never cared. You were everything then, and you’ve been everything to me for over a century. What I wouldn’t give to come back here, to find you earlier, even just forty-five minutes. I’d give anything for more time with you.”

His eyes would peer around the apartment you moved out of decades and decades ago, moving all of your furniture into the house a ten minute walk from here. It would all smell like you, not a trace of him on you yet.

He would beg and plead with any god as to why he deserves just one extra minute of your time.

But he’s not in that apartment that you don’t own anymore, he’s somewhere in the present, he thinks. Azriel’s not sure where he is, but he reaches out towards you, trying to send every ounce of his love down that bridge that connects the two of you. He reaches a hand out, wanting to hold you one last time. He can feel your fear thrumming his chest as your hands frantically apply pressure to his neck, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He interrupts your pleas, stroking his fingers on your cheek, smearing his blood across it.

You’re here, he thinks.

He loved making you blush, your own blood changing the color of your cheeks as he flirted with you. Now his own blood was coloring your skin, a last marking of himself on you.

Every word from his mouth caused the blood to gush from his wound, but he didn’t care. He was fighting for every breath, every word. He knew this was the end. He was just grateful to the Mother that the last thing he’d see in this life was you.

He chokes on his blood, coughing exacerbating the wound.

“In every life.”

He pulls himself up, using your shoulders to brace himself. He pulls your lips to his, soft and delicate, as if it’s the first time he’s kissing you all over again. As if you’re back on that cobblestone street, the two of you standing right in front of your door, a mess of limbs and lips.

The blood on his neck is traded for the tie he wore, one that you had complimented him on as you saw him. You had pulled him down to you by his tie, pulling him to your lips.

And now he was pulling himself up to you, a final goodbye.

He pours everything into it, pouring every last bit of himself through the string connecting the two of you, clinging desperately to that connection for every moment.

You kiss him back just as urgently, hands holding his wounds. His mouth is salty as your tears start running into the kiss, your hands sticky and warm with his blood.

Your kisses become more and more urgent as he starts losing energy, your sense of urgency increasing as he starts fading, that golden bridge connecting the two of you not as bright as it was with each passing moment.

You know he stopped kissing you back a moment ago, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. This should be a fairytale and true love’s kiss is enough to bring someone back.

You pull back, moving his face into your neck, unable to let go. You can’t hear anything except the echo of where your bond was, as if it clanged all the way down your body as it disconnected you from him. You feel someone grip your shoulders, desperate to pull you away from your mate. Your sobs are piercing as you tighten your grip on him.

He’s still warm, he can come back. Still warm, he’ll be back. You start rocking with him in your arms, your tears creating tracks in the blood on your face. A body is pressed to your back, large and warm, and large tan hands cover your own on Azriel’s face. You hear slight sounds, you think it might be Cassian, but you’re not sure.

You don’t feel his tears on your neck

All you feel is a deep, gaping hole inside of you where Azriel lives.

Lived.

Your breaths come fast and choppy, and you start jerking in Cassian’s arms, the feeling of him too much, too much. You felt suffocated, your powers boiling within you as his body grows colder.

His shadows slithered over you, several of them still remaining with their master. Their patterns were meant to be soothing, but it wasn’t working. Several of them cloak Azriel in mourning, their usual energetic nature dulled in the aftermath.

The air in the room changes as all the heat is sucked into your body, your skin blazing. It happens so quickly - you feel Cassian pull away from you as someone slides Azriel’s body from yours, somebody else rushing forward and tackling you to the ground. Instead of hitting hard flooring, your head hits grass, your body racing with adrenaline.

You look up to find Rhysand letting go of you before backing up. He has tears down his face, his eyes a muddier shade of violet than before.

“Let it out. Here. Now.”

Your skin is boiling, everything in you desperate for release. All you feel is the tendril of a lone shadow around your ankle as you burn. You can’t hear Rhys’s sobs, only the roaring of the fire as the grass catches the spark.

The next week goes by in a blur. A funeral - one where the town of black wore deep blue to honor your mate’s lifetime of sacrifice. A few shadows remain with you, the only reason you’re able to get through his funeral is with their touch.

“Hey Az.”

The grass is wet with dew, the early morning fog sticking to it. You don’t notice how damp the ground is beneath you as you sit next to him. Your hands grasp the grass next to his grave, the dirt over his grave too fresh for anything to be growing on top of it.

Your fingers thread through the blades, holding tightly, as if you can uproot them and pull him back to the surface, back to you. As if you kept digging you could find that bond nestled within you somewhere.

Your lip wobbles as you try to say something, anything. The various flower arrangements that surround you both speak of how many visitors he’s had.

He would tell you that the bouquet of orange lilies are from Elain, because those are currently in bloom in Day. He would tell you that the arrangement of blue and black came from Rhysand and Feyre, the flowers meaning ‘a great sacrifice’.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him how the world has become duller in his absence, how you hardly eat or bathe, hardly leave your home at all. How Nesta and Feyre take turns visiting you, ensuring you eat and bathe, getting you to move your legs at least once a day.

He’d be disappointed you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d want you to continue on, despite the unbearable horrors that live in your chest. It felt like your entire ribcage were burst open, your pain and sadness leaking out of every pore for all to see.

Despite the fact that centuries together have led you here, at the end of the road. A road you happily traveled, knowing it would end here eventually.

You’d never regret choosing him, opening yourself up to this inevitable heartache.

You just regret every moment that happens now that he’s gone.

His shadows have followed you to the cemetery, their presence one you’re grateful for. You know they love you, much like Azriel did, and you’ll take any part of him you can cling onto.

You know they’ll leave eventually. No one understood them. Were they sentient beings? Or were they mere whispers of Azriel’s presence, an echo of an echo of his power, disappearing whenever they wish?

You sit, your back leaned against his tombstone, the words “beloved mate” pressing into your back. You moved over, wanting to be as close as possible to him. You don’t much care if the dirt sticks to your skirts. Nuala and Cerridwen won’t say anything to you. They felt his absence too.

You push your hand into the dirt, grasping at it in hopes he’ll grasp your hand back. All you feel are the shadows swarming your fingertips, imitating his soft touch.

-

You lay in your bed, the one that is much too large without your mate. The shadows cloak over you like a blanket, carrying his smell with them.

They missed him too.

You sealed some of Azriel’s clothes away, a magical enchantment that preserved their smell. You were grateful you had the shadows for now, however fleeting their presence may be.

Where Nesta and Feyre helped you bathe, the shadows helped keep your room clean. You stayed in the House of Wind, everyone agreeing you shouldn’t be alone during this time. That was weeks ago, you think.

You’re not really sure.

Time wasn’t moving like it used to anymore. Hours and days pass without your notice, a gray fog hanging over you at all times. You move through the monotony of grief, unaware of your surroundings or how you get anywhere half the time.

You blink and find yourself at his grave.

“It was supposed to be me,” you half yell at the grave marker, your blood getting warmer with your anger.

You hate it. You hate how everything he was, six centuries of a life well-lived, were boiled down to adjectives and monikers.

“Beloved mate.”

“Beloved brother.”

You hated those words, as if that’s all he were. The words don’t tell how he would pick you up when you fell asleep reading and carry you to bed, how he’d help you cheat every time you played cards against Cassian because you laughed so hard whenever he flipped the table, or how his fingers would brush the hair from your face when the two of you cooked dinner every night.

‘Beloved’ is nothing to how your chest felt when he’d come home and see you before he updated Rhysand after being gone so you knew he was okay.

‘Brother’ is not enough to convey how much he loved Rhysand and Cassian, how much love and sacrifice they poured into each other.

“You said I could go first. You promised. And now I’m here, alone, without you. And I don’t- I don’t know how to do it.”

You were yelling, screaming at this slab of granite. You kicked the flowers on the grave, watching them fly through the air as the petals fell.

Yellow for friendship.

“It was supposed to be me! Not you!”

You tug at your hair before you lose all your strength, sinking into the grass covering his grave. Your tears resemble morning dew as they cling to the grass, your knees becoming green with the contact. A few shadows wind through your hair, a few others bring back the bouquet you kicked, placing the flowers back where they were, albeit a bit damaged.

“You’ve never broken a promise before.”

Your voice is weak, the stone in front of you unresponsive to your breakdown.

-

Life moves on. Everyone feels Azriel absence - even Lucien, so full of words is quieter around you. They don’t know how to talk to you anymore, your life becoming more and more hollow as the mating bond in your chest decays, growing into a moldy, decaying thing that turned you rotten.

Why him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Why was it your mate - the one who sacrificed everything all of the time? Why wasn’t it Cassian or Rhysand or any of his spies?

Anyone but him.

You’d do anything.

The days keep moving, the forward progress of time a joke to you. Or perhaps you were the joke to the Mother. You slug through the days, finally able to bathe and dress yourself, but struggling to remember to eat.

Then the voices start.

It’s one soft voice, one you could hear in any lifetime, any world and know who it belonged to. His voice soft as ever delicately telling you to eat, coming and going on the wind around mealtimes.

You listened to it. You could never stay no to him, even if it was just an echo of him living in his shadows.

-

It was well known amongst his family members that Rhysand required his beauty sleep. Eight hours minimum of undisturbed slumber.

Which is why he is tearing through his house on a warpath at whoever is at his door at 2:30 in the morning. He angrily slung on a robe, harshly opening his door, ready to chew out who lay on the other side.

He did not expect to find you, panic stricken, shadows swirling around you.

Your sobs fill his ears, “they won’t stop, Rhys. They keep telling me everything. That Feyre’s asleep, Nyx is asleep and cooing. Cassian’s snoring, Nesta’s awake and brewing tea. They won’t stop.”

You start to collapse, but the shadows hold you up long enough for Rhysand to grab you and bring you in through the threshold.

He places you down on the couch and inspects the shadows swirling around you. He watches them flit about, some moving away, some circling you. He steps on one as it slithers past him, holding it in place.

He looks at you as he grabs the shadow, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, watching it wiggle in his grasp.

“Is this the first time they’ve spoken to you?”

You shake your head no, whispering, “they speak one at a time usually. And not like this.”

His gaze is sympathetic, sitting you on his sofa. “What do they usually say?”

You look down at your shoes, a sense of shyness overcoming you. You pick at your pants, “mostly to eat and take care of myself.”

You hum, remembering, “last week one of them told me Nyx was going to fall, which is how I caught him so quickly.”

Rhys’s eyes are penetrating as he gazes at you, his eyes are a curious shade of violet.

“Can we try something?”

-

Months later, you return home, the black of your clothes hiding the blood soaked within them. You traipse through the foyer, forgetting it was even family game night. Their conversations halt at your appearance. Despite wearing the same colors of the Night Court, the black looks like a deeper shade on you.

Or perhaps the shadows circling you made you look as if you belonged amidst them rather than the fae looking at you.

You nod to Rhys, your only form of communication these days. He nods back, a strained smile on his lips, devastated to watch what you’ve become, grateful he made a pact with Feyre to never continue on without her.

You don’t miss how his hand squeezes her a little too tight.

Your family watches as you step back into the shadows, the darkness consuming you once more. You prefer to stay in them instead of being alone. You linger in their embrace, their consumption of you everything you need, the remnants of Azriel’s scent lingering in this liminal space. You inhale his scent once more, tears stinging your eyes. In the darkness that surrounds you, never knowing where you end or begin, not knowing exactly where in the world you were.

Where nothing and everything existed, floating through your mate’s truest companions, you hear his voice calling to you, the soft tenor of his voice coming from a direction you can’t quite pinpoint.

Or perhaps it was only an echo.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 3089

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav

summary: apparently the only way to get Gale to show some restraint in bed, is to physically restrain him.

tags: heterosexual sex, bondage, overstimulation, hand jobs, oral sex (male receiving), cowgirl, creampie, Gale being his usually overly self sacrificing self to the point of maddening [someone come take care of this boy]

Ao3 - 1000 Night Series

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

Gale had told Tav before that his favorite time of night was its darkest hour. When the night stretched on until one might think dawn would never come. A bit of poetry to set the mood, but he had been telling the truth. At the time anyway.

Now, his favorite time of night was when he was in bed with her. Curled up. Ready for sleep. Or on many occasions, like now, curled up together and ready for anything but sleep.

“Gale…” His name falls from her lips and the man in question shivered. The sound was sweeter than any song.

His hand moved from cupping the side of Tav’s face as they kissed. Down to her nude hip to pull her close. They were already naked. Already bare for one another. Ready and open to explore. “Gale…”

He heard his name again, but was too focused on kissing her chin now. Prepared to moved to Tav’s neck and lavish it with kisses the way she liked, while his hand moved to-“Gale!”

The wizard stopped completely and pulled away from his love. That was not a shout of his name he was expecting, nor hoping for. “What is it, my love? Have I done something wrong?”

“No, no. You’re perfect. As usual.” Gale felt a swell of pride in his chest. He did genuinely pride himself on being an excellent lover. His list of conquests may not be long, but they were certainly well satisfied. "It’s just….I want to take care of you tonight."

Gale smiled. A soft, affectionate, longing smile at her beautiful face. Amazed, even now, that someone so wonderful would care so much for him. It would be heresy not to appreciate it. "Don't worry about it darling. Letting me take care of you is taking care of me."

"That's not the same."

"It is to me." Gale told her. "Nothing gives me greater pleasure than watching you receive pleasure from me. To watch you fall apart for me. To know that I am the cause of your desire."

His hand combed through Tav's hair, stopping at her ear to rub the tip of it. He smirked as he watched her almost give in but reset her resolve. Gods, was there anything she did that wasn't sexy to him.

"I appreciate that. But have you not considered that I might feel that way too?"

"Well...." No. He genuinely hadn't. Gale was so used to servicing his lovers. His dalliances at school. Especially Mystra. It never occurred to him that they might want to do the same for him. "What do you want to do?"

"Can you lay here, still, and not touch while I take care of you?"

"Oooh....I don't think I can do that." He doesn't want to deny her, but he wants to be honest. Gale loved touching her. Anywhere. Everywhere. Being a wizard of caliber, he loved to explore, and his hands were his greatest tool. "I think it might be a challenge I lack the fortitude for."

"What if I helped?"

Gale arched a brow. "Helped how?"

Tav touched his bare chest. Hand splayed over his heart and where his now dormant orb blight rested. "Do you trust me?"

With his life. But, at this particular moment? "....yes...?"

The hand on his chest lifted and her fingers snapped near his face. There was a sudden flash of movement. Too fast for Gale to catch fully, or comprehend, as he was forcibly pulled down to the bed by his arms and legs. When his brain caught up to everything, he realized he was spread eagle against the sheets. "Too much?"

The wizard looked up at the ropes around his wrists and twitched his ankles to feel the ones there too. With Tav in the way he couldn't see them, but they were certainly there. "It's...certainly interesting...."

Gale felt his face go hot. He had never done this before. Before Tav the most adventurous thing Gale did during sex was make love with the lights on. Not including the noncorporeal things he did with Mystra. It was an odd contrast, he thought. One lover wanting him to be completely unbound, while the other wanting him to be literally bound. Gale couldn't decide which one he liked more. But he wasn’t against this.

"If you don't like it, just let me know and I can get you out of it."

"I will. Although if I wanted out of this I can always just...." Gale trailed off. As he was trying to remember their flourish and replicate the trick, he realized his magic was waning. He couldn't think of a reason why. Then he caught the barest scent of florals. "Oh ho ho....clever girl...." Sussar flower oil. His bonds were covered in it. He hadn’t noticed before since the processing required to make the oil waned the effects of the flower but did not eliminate it. And given that he had the dexterity of a drunken badger when it came to anything other than magic, he was well and truly stuck.

"Just tell me if you don't like it, ok?"

The bed shifted as Tav moved over him. Her legs straddling his waist. Stomach just pressing against his as she hoovered over him. Her lips just inches away from his as he locked eyes with his gorgeous lover's face. He could kiss her. If he only tilted his head up a little, but he didn't dare.

"Do you still trust me?"

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate this time.

He realizes that he's utterly helpless now. Between the sussar flower essence and the binds, Gale couldn't get up if he tried. But he doesn't want to try. Being helpless, at her mercy, to let her do whatever she wanted with him makes him almost lightheaded with lust. Because Tav has told him what she wants to do with him: 'take care of him'. All he has to do, all he can do now, is lay back and take it.

Tav smiled at him and gave him the kiss he had been desperate for. It was soft, slow, gentle. Gale gets the first bite of his binds in his wrists when he tries to wrap his arms around Tav. Unable to make it even the first few seconds without trying to touch her. Gale groaned. The tenderness of their kiss and firm hold of his ropes is a thrilling duality. One that goes straight to his cock.

While still kissing him in that slow, lazy fashion, Tav’s hand slithered between them to wrap around his erection. Gale gasped against their kiss. His mouth opening wider to let Tav’s tongue explore deeper into his mouth. Gods they had only just started, and he was already a goner.

Her delicate hand, slim & small compared to the power they wielded, stroked his cock in a slow manner similar to their kiss. The movement was not pristine as it was trapped between their bodies, but still had more than the desired effect as he firmed up quickly.

When Tav pulled away from him, Gale followed. Daring to lift his head this time. Bewitched by his love to follow after them. For more. But he can’t get to her. There is a myth, one that he can only half recall with what little of his intellectual mind was left, of a man tormented by the Gods to be just out of reach of sustenance for eternity. Gale pitied that man, now more than ever. Though it was not food or drink that would sustain him. It was Tav. And if he just reached a little further, he could be sated again.

It was hopeless though as she was much further out of reach than his neck or bonds would allow, rolling off him to his side. Gale groaned in frustration as he lost what little persistent touch he was allowed. He craned his neck as far as it would go to the side. Getting only the barest touch of lips against her jaw for his efforts. His tongue darting out much like a lizard to taste her skin. To get something.

When his attentions weren’t acknowledged Gale turned his gaze to where Tav was looking and whimpered pathetically at the sight of his cock being laced in her perfect hand. “Gods….” His head tipped back for a moment. Eyes shut. His world a spark of sensation now that he couldn’t see and couldn’t move. His arms pull at the binds. Not to break free but just to tense, and he moaned at the reminder that he couldn’t do anything but lay there and feel.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes!” Gale’s vast vocabulary had been decimated to just simple words. “So good…”

“Good. You’re always so good to me. I want to be good to you too.”

“You are.” His eyes open to look at Tav with such devotion. Gale has looked upon actual gods, yet none of them compared to her in this moment. Her hand gently squeezed the tip of him and Gale moaned before looking down himself at her hand. Transfixed in watching his member slide in & out of her grasp. Precum already starting to dribble out with each pull to make it easier. “So good…”

“I love you Gale.” Tav leaned down to kiss his temple and Gale couldn’t help himself but snap over and try to catch her lips. He succeeds. And with the way he moaned you might as well have thought he came right there. He kissed her desperately. Hungry. Just a mess of clashing teeth and tongue, because he doesn’t know how long he’ll have before she takes it away again.

It's not long enough, as she slips free from his possessive lip-lock with her own panting. Gale actually gets his shoulders off the bed to chase after her this time. He might have even growled. But he couldn’t reach her and flopped back against the bed in defeat, with a very deep frown between his brows.

He hated this.

He loved this.

He couldn’t decide what he was feeling, but then Tav’s lips were on his chest and that was all that mattered again. Not feelings, just feeling.

Gale was able to sneak one more needy kiss into her hair as she moved down. His beard nuzzling over the fine hairs of her crown. The scent of her soap. He didn’t think he could get any harder yet just the smell of her made him throb.

Tav’s lips peppered over his body along with her fingers. Fingertips dancing over the hairs on his chest. Kissing over the ridges of his abdomen. A long swipe of their tongue just under his navel sends Gale keening, and the binds rattled again his he tensed up. Then, finally, they were at the end of the bed. And him.

Gale was panting. Legitimately panting as he watched her carefully tuck her hair behind an ear with one hand and hold his cock in the other. Licked her lips. Then descend to swallow his member in one go. “Nine…Hells….!” Gale thrashed against his binds in a tormented pleasure fervor. He was actually quite grateful for them at the moment, because the likelihood of him kneeing Tav in the face with the sudden way she took him in was quite good. Not something high on the romance scale for their evening.

After the initial shock, Gale forced himself to relax. Tav hadn’t moved yet. Perhaps too nervous that he might buck up on her again and choke her, so his cock was just resting in her warm mouth and down her throat. He moaned at the feeling. Letting the warmth leech from his member, to the base, then rest of his body. Turning him into putty literally under Tav’s hand.

She started to move after that. Pulling back with a slow suckle of her mouth against his member to the tip, then back down. “…Tav…” He called out. Like a whispered prayer. To his goddess. His angel. Gale moaned through gritted back teeth as her tongue laved against the underside of his cock. The wet muscle flexing against it tantalizingly. His mouth snapped open in a sharp gasp when he felt her hand against his balls. Massaging them. The tip of her index finger pressing against the space between their and his back side that made him see stars. “Tav!”

His beloved came off his cock with a wet, seductive pop, though her hands never stop. Her lips red and puffy. Eyes darkened with desire for him. Gale would applaud his restraint in not cumming right then & there at the image, if he could actually get his hands to clap. “Where do you want to finish Gale?”

“Inside you.” His answer was embarrassingly quick. Or, it would be, if he still had the mental capacity to be embarrassed.

Tav smiled softly at Gale, and he had to remember to breathe. “Yes. That’s a given.” It might not be if she kept looking at him like that and dripping those sweet words made of honey. Very soon, it would be a moot point. “I mean do you want to finish in my mouth or…”

Gale watched as Tav’s hand slipped between her legs. His voice cracked with a whimper as he tried to answer, but his mouth was impossibly dry. The kind of dryness that could only be cured by Tav’s sweet essence on his tongue. He was half tempted to tell her to get up here and let him taste her, but this wasn’t about him, in a sense, tonight. “Inside you. Inside your beautiful body. Inside your….“cunt?” Gale nodded enthusiastically at Tav’s adlib.

Tav smiled again, then lifted her hips high to hover over him. His hands gripped at the ropes in a white-knuckle hold as it seemed to take forever for her to line them up. Soon enough she was lowering herself on his cock. The first press of its tip slipping into her wet folds sent his head back in a loud moan he didn’t know he had in him. He thought he might cry as inch after inch slid deeper inside her. Until Tav’s pelvis rested against his hips.

Gale was honestly dazed with pleasure at this point. It felt so good. Her walls gripping him like a delicate vice. Looking up at her beautiful body. Her nipples pebbled in the air. Her perfect lips just slightly ajar as she panted in desire back at him. “Are you ok?”

“Please.”

He honestly didn’t know what he was asking for. What he was saying. But Tav, his clever Tav, seemed to understand and began to roll her hips on top of him. He moaned again. Eyes screwed tight. His grip on the binds went white again as she rode him. Her hands on his chest to stay steady. The wet sound of her coming up & down with her ass slapping.

“Tav…Tav….I’m close….”

“Not yet.” Gale whined and pulled at his binds. “Not yet.”

He knew Tav was close. They have been together enough times, and he’s given her enough pleasure, that he knows when she’s about to cum. The subtle hitches in her breath. The slight tremble in her thighs. She was too close. So, he could wait for her a few moments longer. Rewarding himself on his restraint and gallantry by forcing his eyes open to watch Tav buck against his cock in ecstasy. Her own head tilted back. Her eyes closed. He bucked his own hips up to meet her. Delighted that, even though this was about her giving him pleasure, she was still getting pleasure from him.

They tumbled over the abyss shortly after that. His beloved shaking while his cock twitched inside her. Tav fell over him and kissed Gale fully on the lips. Her hips still moving as they kneaded him through his orgasm. When he was done, she pulled back and the two of them were panting. Breathless from their efforts and desperate for air as neither one seemed to want to let the other one go.

Tav lifted her hips one last time and Gale slipped out of her. Limp and exhausted as well, his cock just laid there by his leg. Wet with their juices. Overly sensitive from all the stimulation like its host.

His beloved lazily lifted her hand off his chest and made two quick snaps again. The bonds on Gale’s wrists & ankles are released. Laying on the bed about as limp as everyone else. An odd sort of numb feeling coursing through them as full circulation returned.

The wizard immediately wrapped his arms around her. Letting out a deep sigh at finally having her in his arms fully. “Did you like it?”

“Like it?” Gale asked back. His voice hoarse from all the moaning he did. What a ridiculous question. “Like is not the word I would use. More like overjoyed. Elated. Spontaneous combustion of ecstasy.”

Tav chuckled. Then turned her head up to give him a loving smile, then a peck on the lips. “I’m glad. See? It is better to give than receive.”

“I don’t know about all that.” Gale countered. “Better means well…better. This was….fantastic. You’re fantastic. But I still stand by my stance earlier this evening that nothing gives me greater pleasure than seeing you get pleasure from me.”

“Not even all this?”

Gale smiled softly at his beloved. Her earnest desire to want his needs taken care of, or perhaps just to win the argument, was so adorable he couldn’t help himself but tilt her chin up for another kiss. “Let’s just call it a tie then, shall we? I’m honestly too tired to argue.”

Tav sighed. She detested ties. But she seemed tired enough not to argue as well and curled up into Gale to get some sleep. “Just promise me that you’ll let me take care of you more often when we’re in bed from now on. I don’t want to have to tie you up again.”

“Yes, well…I mean…I will certainly try to remember. But if you feel that I’m being too selfish again then, by all means. No need to reinvent the wheel if we have a method that works.”

His beloved turned her head up to give him a cheeky look and grin. One he returned. She turned her head back to his chest and closed her eyes. “I can teach you the flourish, if you want.”

“Oh, you are a considerate and impossibly generous lover, my sweet.”

[luna-rainbow]

On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

[a66-1]

sorry for being gone for a minute. my classes are back up and I'm doing a lot right now so bare with me. this little bit is very.. accurate to my current state.

Not proofread

Simon x Bedrotting! Reader

The light from your curtains woke you up.

The honey dew shade once made the mornings the nicest time for you, but now they disturb the deep sleep you finally managed to get.

You sat up slowly, glancing around your messy room. The smell was.. Less than pleasant, as you hauled your seemingly heavy legs off the side of the bed. It's not your best moments, but fuck, how'd you get here? You skipped class yesterday, too tired to get up, only doing so for the restroom.

The weighted blanket you slept with last night has not been washed in forever, as it clings to your shoulders when you walk to the restroom. Your hand finds the switch, flicking it up as the dingy lights come on. Fuck, is it worse in here? A small bug is on the wall near where the empty to go boxes are.

This is where you rot the most when it's hard. It's the darkest in here.

You barely get yourself to put toothpaste on the toothbrush before giving up. What's the point? Nobody's kissing you anyways. You're boyfriends out right now. You'll clean up before he visits.

Eventually.

Maybe.

You step into the empty shower, the small tub at the bottom just perfect enough to sit in as hot water sprays down from the showerhead. The blankets wet. Your favorite pj's are wet. You're wet.

And the door opened?

The door opened.

Simon stared quietly at you, and you looked away. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Nervous.

Not wanting pity yet needing it. Needing the reassurance someone sees you, someone feels you, someone hears you.

Even though your mouth is shut, youre screaming for help.

"Lovie?" Simon asked quietly, as he shut the door to the bathroom softly. You sniffle and curl your hands over your head, shoulders shaking. "Love, are you okay?"

You hiccup softly, and shake your head many times. Many times. He crouches down by the shower, and just.. Hugs you. Hugs you tight enough to keep you grounded for the rest of your life.

Your arms find his neck, and you hold yourself tightly to him. The cries thar rack your body hurts. It hurts your eyes, your face, your heart. You don't know why things get so hard. Why you can't brush your hair. Why there's trash everywhere.

It just.. Happens. Your insides stop.. Caring. Stop trying.

"I-I just.. I don't know, I-I'm not okay, bu-but.." Your voice trails off, and your shoulders shake again. Simon holds you tighter, his arms and hair wet from the water cascading down.

"Come on, c'mere," Simon pulls you up to a stand, and he turns off the water. He helps you get out of the clothes you've had on for.. Maybe days, and throws it in the washing machine with the blanket.

He helps you shower, dries you off, brushes your hair, and he spotted your half toothpaste covered toothbrush. He washes it off and added some more to the toothbrush, standing behind you quietly.

He holds the brush to your teeth, helping you brush them. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and you smile. Softly.

I'm fine yes.

Ily babes,

a661.

[darlingdekarios]

prūmia hen zaldrīzes.

"heart of the dragon."

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 8,317 content: Prince Aemond Targaryen x f!Lannister!reader, reader is a Lannister but is not given a specific description, Aemond is so salty and petty, arranged marriage, infidelity, smut [v fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v, creampie], kinks [biting, scratching, breeding]

when he is forced to watch his twin flame marry his brother, Aemond finds a solution for coping other than burning it all to the ground.

King’s Landing, 120 AC

“I’m sorry for your eye, Prince Aemond,” you whispered, your voice quiet and sincere as the boy you’d spent so many years of your childhood with avoided your gaze with the perfect eye he still had. “I came as soon as I was told what happened.”

All he could muster was a firm nod, the sweet boy you often encountered now tucked away inside crushing self-consciousness as he sat before you. Still, despite his unease at his bandaged face, he found it within himself to remark the pride he felt for himself. “I lost an eye but gained a dragon. I would make the trade again.”

You had to smile at his subtle insistence to impress you, to cover the aura of dread he seemed to be exuding. “A worthy trade indeed, my prince.”

His good eye finally found your face, his harsh resolve fading at the softness that covered your features. Only months younger than Aemond and the sole daughter of Lord Lannister, you had spent much of your childhood in the Red Keep beside the Targaryen children. With your father’s place at Viserys’ Court, you spent more time at the Capital than within the walls of Casterly Rock, and while Helaena had always been a wonderful friend, it was Aemond you often found yourself beside. Now, at the darkest night in his life, it would be no different, and the gratitude shown through his features. He could never hide his truest self from you. 

“My face doesn’t make you want to scream?” he questioned, the anger at his own mutilation doing wonders at hiding the genuine concern he felt at how you’d respond to his new appearance – even as a child, Aemond always basked in your approval. 

“Only because you must be in pain,” you reassured, your soft voice sincere in ways no one else ever was with him. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for you to laugh, so used to being on the receiving end of a joke these days but was met only with your kindness as your warm hand covered his own. With the subtlest of squeezes, you quieted your voice to barely above a whisper. “I shall put out Lucerys’ eye for your next name day.”

For the first time since the incident Aemond felt his lips curve into a light smile, anxiety’s grasp on his heart lightening. “Viserys says Lord Strong is not to be hurt,” he remarked, the distaste for his father’s decision and forsaking of his own son shining through his voice. “It is an embarrassment. It is shameful. I will have to sit here and have my bandages changed daily by…”

“Me,” you offered, your voice earnest and hopeful. If it would not cause him pain his eyebrows would have pulled together in visible bewilderment – why anyone would offer to see him in the state he was in was beyond him. You offered a gentle smile and gave his hand another squeeze, repeating your offer to help him understand. “I will have the Maester teach me the proper way tomorrow, and then I will do it for you, Aemond.”

It would both confuse and comfort Aemond every day for the coming months when you found your way to his door promptly, gentle hands providing a better, more caring bandaging than anyone else had offered. 

King’s Landing, 123 AC

“He is insufferable,” Aemond gritted through his teeth, his jaw popping in irritation as he fought to remain composed before you. You had seen him in much worse states than this in your younger years when he had less of a cool control over his emotions, but it had been quite some time since you had heard this tone behind his words. “Laughing at me because I don’t wish to bed whores like he does.”

“He is only jealous because he has to pay people to like him, my Prince,” you spoke, coming to sit beside him before his fireplace. His good eye met your gaze, the smallest bit of his frustration dissipating under your gentle expression. 

The years that had passed since he had lost his eye had only pulled the two of you closer together, your own mother having passed due to fever. Pained by the resemblance you bore to your mother, your father had all but abandoned you at the Red Keep – any time apart from one another was due to Aemond’s absence, not your own. In a world where both of you found backs turned to you, you always found one another – the familiarity so comforting it was impossible to give up. 

“Even still, my lady – his words have point,” he spoke, falling into the sweetness you presented him with. Resting your hand on top of his between the two of you, you held onto his every word – ever the one to make him feel important and desired. “I am thirteen and, according to Aegon, I’m hardly even a man because I won’t let one of his whores kiss me.”

The silence lingered as you soaked in his words, the crackling of the fireplace lulling you into a comfortable state. With his hand beneath yours you were once again reminded how warm Aemond was, and how it always seemed to invite you closer whether you were conscious of it or not. “Is it truly so important to have been kissed?”

“I care more for other things,” he stated simply, while inside his mind he found no calm. “But I do wish to have a reason to quiet him.”

A nod confirmed your understanding, a quiet hum leaving your lips in approval. Without much more than a minute of thought you leaned across to him, pressing your lips to his in a chaste, delicate and inexperienced kiss. Aemond, always quick to action, found for the first time in a long time he was caught off guard, frozen to his place as you gifted him (and yourself) his first kiss.

The next time Aegon taunted his younger brother for having not been kissed over dinner, Aemond was proud to report that he had, in fact. Despite the queen turning her head to analyze her son’s proud expression, she hadn’t missed the redness to your cheeks or the quick giggle you had to silence. Though she very easily could have, Alicent Hightower kept the kiss a shared secret – even from the two of you. 

King’s Landing, Winter 128 AC

Lowering your cloak’s hood and taking a step into the darkness you found yourself being pushed toward the stone wall, familiar hands grasping your shoulders. As you turned your gaze upward to take in the sight of his shining blue eye and eye patch you found the harshness of his expression. 

“What are you doing? Have you lost all sanity?” he questioned, leaning his face closer to yours. Now that he was a teenager, he had begun to tower over you, his height serving an obvious intimidation advantage. 

“I wanted to see you so I…I snuck through the castle and the city to here, and I thought…I’d find you down here,” you explained, your rationale doing nothing to soothe his pounding heart. “I’ve often wondered what the lower parts of the dragon pit were like.”

“I have heard curiosity often kills the cat,” he replied, one of his hands leaving your shoulder to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against the expanse of your cheek. “Dovodedha kēlītsos…this is no place for you.”

It was impossible not to lean into his hand more, embracing the warmth you so often craved these days. As Aemond grew older and responsibility loomed on his head, his hours training and hunting and flying grew, time away from you being a cruel result of that. And for your part, you had been returned to Casterly Rock a year prior due to your father wishing to keep you closer again, wishing to fend off those who sought betrothal to you, remarking often that none of them were good enough for his daughter. The most contact you’d received from your closest companion was through raven or middleman, the occasional visit atop Vhagar from him – when he had the time.

The moment you’d arrived in King’s Landing you’d wanted to see Aemond. And truth be told, if he had known of your arrival beforehand, there would have been nothing to keep him from greeting you. Your intention to surprise him by not giving warning of your visit had backfired, but Helaena had rescued the day by telling you where to find her brother. This close you could see the slick sweat to his brow, the subtle flare to his nostrils that signified his annoyance. 

It was a secondary feeling – what he truly felt was concern. 

“And yet I am still alive before you, unharmed, my Prince,” you taunted, your voice low and smooth and brimming with joy at being so near to him again. His hand on your cheek slid further, fingers entangling in your hair gently to refamiliarize himself with the texture. 

“Only because I found you first, kēlītsos.”

“I wanted to be found.”

The smallest smile formed on his lips, a gentle shake to his head further proving his amusement. “I have missed you and your recklessness. You truly have the bravery of a lion, though I doubt you have the nine lives.”

His smile was returned by your own, your hands finding way to either side of his neck delicately. “I have missed you as well, Aemond,” you spoke quietly, fingernails grazing his skin lightly on the back of his neck and creating goosebumps across his skin. 

Strong emotions rushing through him paired with the hormones of a teenager had him claiming your lips in a bruising kiss next, critical words lost to him as he lost himself in your features. This time, neither of you were caught off guard, the kiss returned immediately and met with a hum of approval. His grip on your hair tightened slightly as his tongue sought a taste of your lips, his own hum vibrating in his chest as your fingers found way to his hair as well. 

As you allowed your jaw to relax and his tongue to enter your mouth his free hand grasped your hip, pulling your waist forward and into his, so he could grind his hardening cock into you, greedily swallowing the moan it pulled from you. Recognizing the danger that going further posed he was the one to reluctantly break the hungry kiss, and he who resisted kissing you again as he escorted you to the Red Keep. 

If he had known taking you back to those who awaited you meant hearing his mother announce you were to marry Aegon, he would have fled with you atop Vhagar. Despite his best efforts, his family was still finding new ways to play jokes on him. This was the cruelest yet.

King’s Landing, Spring 129 AC

The months that followed were a harsh realization of your new reality. 

Ever since, that day had been the first thought to your mind in the morning and the thing that you cried yourself to sleep over every night. Though Alicent Hightower’s announcement that the King had decided to honor tradition and name his eldest son the true heir to the crown (something you felt had to do with how heavily sedated and agreeable he was, not that you’d voice that opinion to any other than Aemond), it was the second part of her speech that ripped your heart from your chest. You would wed her eldest son and unify the crown and the Lannisters, a truly monumental occasion for the realm. 

The words were those of two fathers – hers and your own – plotted with only greed in their hearts. Alicent did not relish in passing the news, and dreaded what it would do to her son, and yet that did not stop her from doing so. While you had attempted to make your objection to the match known, your words had no weight, and your future was decided behind your back. Aemond had returned to the Dragon Pit and did not return to the Red Keep for days. Even when he had returned, he would avoid you for the first time in your lives. 

It took only months for the betrothal to move forward. With King Viserys the Peaceful dead by Spring and the Conqueror’s crown placed upon Aegon’s head, it become imperative to demonstrate to the people of Westeros that their new King was worthy of the throne his father had bestowed on him. This of course meant marrying a woman from a highly regarded family and bringing children into his bloodline (not that he hadn’t already). 

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wi-“

The septon’s words were cut short by the familiar bellow of a creature far older than any other present, the familiar flap of impossibly large wings shooting a gust of wind directly over your wedding ceremony. The Queen of All Dragons landed with a harsh quake to the ground, your hand shooting out to the archway over you to steady yourself, Helaena rushing forward to assist you. 

“You’re late to your own brother’s wedding, Aemond,” Alicent Hightower hissed through her teeth, attempting to maintain the smile she had plastered on her face as she watched her eldest son ignore the opportunity to assist his betrothed.

“Truthfully, mother, you should be lucky I am here at all,” the one-eyed prince replied, the sincerity behind his words unsurprising. “It is blasphemous. The one person in this world I truly care for, that I have no obligation to do so, and you stick her with my cunt of a brother.”

“Your words are treason, Aemond. Aegon is your king now,” she chastised, her glare fixating on him momentarily with the brief turn of her head. 

“Apologies, mother – my cunt of a king,” he replied, stepping backward and away from further ridicule. His step was matched by his mother – one of two people he could never seem to hide from.

“Aemond…I know this is difficult for you, my sweet boy,” she began, her voice soft and diplomatic. A couple of years younger and he may have faltered, but not now. Not when he faced a waking nightmare before him. “I do hope that one day when you find a suitable wife for yourself, you will understand the decision we’ve made.”

“I will not find a suitable wife and I will not marry,” came his reply, voice unwavering and absolute. “If I am not to marry her, I am not to marry at all.”

“I have faith that you will see reason and change your mind.”

Aemond turned his face back to his mother, jaw popping in frustration as he did so. It was subtle, anyone unfamiliar with the prince would not notice the movement – his own mother did, of course. “The woman standing across from Aegon sat beside me while every stitch on my face was opened, the hole where my eye used to be pried apart, and a sapphire inserted into it. She never released my hand, she never looked away. And now you marry her to someone who can’t tell his own hand from a whore.”

“Be that as it may, it is done,” the former queen continued, the remorse in her voice showing itself slightly. She knew, all too well, what it was like to lose love because of duty. “We may talk about this more later, sweet boy.”

“There is no need, mother. As you say,” he continued, placing his arms behind his back carefully. “It is done.”

The remainder of the ceremony went without additional surprise. Aemond desperately wished to be free of this obligation, his annoyance showcased on his face regardless of whose eyes may have caught glimpse of him. His only comfort came from the look that remained on your face – solemn, unimpressed, unchanging; even when Aegon had kissed you. It was the first time Aemond had seen so very little of a reaction to one of his brother’s kisses, and the display of indifference both satisfied something deep with Aemond and caused his stomach to churn. Your wedding day should have been so much better than this – you deserved so much better than this, than Aegon. 

It was a relief to his unsettled stomach when he saw you alone on a balcony during the feast to celebrate you – to celebrate the marriage and the new queen. Still, even with the food, the wine, and the gifts, Aemond had not seen your lips curl to a smile once the entire day. Though he wasn’t entirely certain he could contain himself from doing something foolish by claiming this moment of your attention, he opted to throw that caution to the wind. You were his to be foolish with.

He sauntered toward you with hands behind his back still, pleased when you turned as he approached within an arm’s length of you. For the first time all day he watched as you rivaled the full moon behind you with a smile.

“My Prince,” you greeted, eyes flashing up at him in profound appreciation. 

“Your Grace,” he bowed his head slightly in return, a small smirk flashing on his features as he peered up at you between his lashes. He’d worn the eye patch you’d specifically had crafted for him in Lannisport – you had to wonder if it was an intentional show of your bond or not. He caught the way your eyes lingered, filled with uncertainty. Aemond was the first to put his swarming thoughts to spoken word.

“This should be our wedding day, kēlītsos,” he began, his eye burning into yours as he took a step closer – another and it may be considered indecent. “I wonder if that fact haunts you as it does me.”

Being this close to him always set your body alight, the heat blazing beneath every inch of your skin and begging for the coolness that accompanied his lips. “Every moment,” you replied, your voice quiet and so intentionally only for him. “You should have taken me across the sea on Vhagar where no one would follow or find us.”

The corners of his mouth barely twitched upward in a smile – the first you’d seen from him in months – your words almost pulling a growl from his chest. One of his gloved hands twitched toward yours, his fingers lightly grazing against your wrist, tempting him to pull you closer and closer until no one, not even his brother, could take you away from him. It was foolish to speak this way so openly with so many potential listeners nearby, but neither of you truly cared. “It may happen still.”

“Is this your way of telling me you love me, Prince Aemond? It is not immensely traditional, I’m afraid,” you taunted, eyes finding his face again and appreciating his features. “Though, I suppose it is your rebellious heart that has won my love, as well.”

“Sister,” Helaena greeted as she interrupted the moment between the two of you, his expression immediately hardening as he withdrew his hand from your wrist again. “I wish to walk in the garden with you before you retire to bed. Would you join me?”

With a final longing glance you departed, joining your sister-in-law for one of her nightly walks, growing ever-more dread-filled as the time passed and your return to your wedding duties continued. Soon enough, you thought, Aegon would be crawling between your legs, no doubt smelling like wine and dirt and dragons in the least endearing of ways. The thought made your stomach twist into knots more and more until the Princess had walked you back to your bedchamber, entering the warm room with you. 

“The dragon sings at the moon’s brightest hour.”

She departed then, leaving you alone with a puzzled look on your face as multiple handmaidens joined you to remove the elegant gown that weighed you down, allow you to bathe, and help you into night clothes, removing your hair from the intricate style to lay loose. They put more wood on the fire and withdrew, remarking that one of the girls, Marleya, would be around should you need her. It was ironic to know that your husband regularly found himself buried in her, when he was failing to fulfill his obligation to you on your wedding night. Between the walk and the routine the handmaidens had carried out, hours had passed, and while you still felt the looming dread that Aegon may call on you, it had twisted into something far more pathetic. Soon you were sat on the open window overlooking the city, fixing your eyes to the sky with a forlorn expression covering your face as you envied what it would feel like to be able to fly away at any moment.

You were not the only one in the Red Keep troubled by your thoughts, as Aemond found himself wandering the halls since you had departed from him. Though he tried to think of something else, anything else, he could not prevent his thoughts from wandering back to his brother likely consummating his marriage, claiming something from you he had no right possessing. It made him sick to think of the way Aegon would treat you for the first time, almost sick enough to manifest fully. 

He hadn’t planned to walk past Aegon’s room, and yet that’s exactly where his feet carried him shortly after 11, the familiar halls as he approached causing him to draw in deeper, steadier breaths, preparing himself for whatever he may hear. As he rounded the final corner he was greeted with the sight of his stumbling, drunken older brother holding the door to his bedchamber open for one…two…three…four…working women from King’s Landing, their quiet giggles being shushed by him until they were all nestled inside with him close behind. When the door closed with a heavy thud, Aemond released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. 

If Aegon was partaking in his usual activities, that meant you were alone. And while it pleased him to know his brother had not pulled you into his bed just yet, it also made the anger burn inside of him. This was, after all, your wedding night and you had looked so beautiful in his house colors – and now you were alone. 

It was approaching the middle of the night when your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Your Grace,” came the voice of Marleya. She was quiet, timid – not wanting to interrupt the state she knew you were in but unable to refuse what had been asked of her. “Apologies for the interruption. Prince Aemond has come to request a word with you, my Queen.”

When you heard the light fall of his boots against the stone floor you inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady your breathing so you could talk without giving away your emotional state. Although you wanted to seek the comfort you had so often found in his face you kept your eyes forward, back to him as you continued to look at the night sky. When his footsteps silenced relatively close behind your position you inhaled another deep breath to prepare yourself for whatever additional torment was fated for your night. 

“Your Grace,” came his quiet timbre, the moniker pulling a sigh from you. Hearing anything but your name from him sounded so foreign – so wrong. 

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” you managed in response, mentally thanking yourself for the composure you kept over your words. 

“I have come to pass news of your…good husband,” he began, his words laced with venom and disgust. Judging by his words, your handmaiden had lingered in the bedchamber, so you were not alone with another man – improper indeed on your wedding night. “I feel it best if the information is delivered between family.”

You briefly turned your head to direct a glance at the girl, who was not much younger than you, offering a light smile. “Thank you, Marleya. I am in safe hands with my…brother. You may retire for the night.”

The girl nodded before exiting, closing the door to the bedchamber as she went. Aemond watched her go, confirmed the door was closed with a lingering glance before turning his eyes to the back of your head. You had returned your gaze to the stars twinkling above the sky, wondering how it would feel to be there – to be so very far away. 

“I thought that your Grace should be informed that I have witnessed our King entering his own bedchamber not long ago,” he started, almost expecting you to turn to watch him speak. It was curious when you did not look in his face when he spoke. “He seemed to be quite full of alcohol. Not to worry, though, he had escorts to ensure his…satisfactory retirement for the night. You need not wait for his arrival here.” He watched as your shoulders lowered with the release of a shaky breath, the visible signification of your faltering anxiety. 

“Is this all, Prince Aemond? You’ve come to remind me my good husband is a drunken whoremonger?” you questioned; harsh words softened by the meekness in your voice. Despite your insistence to keep your face from him and hide your tears, your voice had begun to shake – as had your shoulders. Aemond was familiar with both. 

He stepped forward, the sound of his boots drawing nearer both sending your body alight and filling it with dread. When he stood just behind you his arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he had done so many times. You wondered if this would be the last. “What troubles you? I should think it is a comfort my brother will not summon you tonight,” he spoke lightly, lowering his head down to rest his chin atop your head. 

“A woman’s wedding is supposed to be the greatest day of her life,” you began, forsaking strength in his arms and relying on him to support you. “And yet I feel like my life has been ripped away from me.”

“It is unfair, your Grace,” he began, his warmth radiating through you and settling into a familiar comfort deep within you that only he could bring. His voice was so soft, so sincere, so unlike it had been each time you had heard him speak in the last few months. “My brother is a fool to ignore such a beautiful bride. You were art brought to life in our house colors.”

You released another deep breath you didn’t fully realize you were holding, the relaxation in your torso allowing him to wrap his arms around you tighter. Even now you wore the Targaryen colors – a thin black night dress and an even longer, lighter red robe. Aemond wanted nothing more than to pin you against the wall like the art he viewed you as – even more now with your face free of additions and hair left loose. You raised onto your knees, turning simultaneously to plant yourself in his arms fully, chest pressed to his in an inherently indecent manner consider your new titles. Neither of you had ever cared for such.

You titled your head back to allow him a true look at your face – cheeks streaked with tear trails, bottom lip red and swollen from your incessant biting, and eyes red, glossy and puffy from undoubted hours of crying. Even under the despair in your eyes he could see the lingering hope, the love that burned for him hiding in the depths and screaming to break free. He raised one hand to cup your cheek in it, the cool leather coming against your warm cheek cueing a shiver up your spine. 

Without giving you a chance to stop them more tears spilled over your cheeks, his glove soaking up the tears on one of your cheeks. Having spent so much time around Aemond in your life you knew what the subtle looks behind his remaining eye meant. That fact was doing nothing to help sedate the burning you felt for him as you met his gaze, facing the concern, the care and the longing he was harboring directly. The intensity caused your breath to catch in your throat.

“Īlē ñuhon, kēlītsos, [You were mine, little cat]” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eye. His perfect nose lightly brushed against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist tighter. He reveled in the way you melted to him, joining your form to his in a way that was so unique to the two of you. “I should have claimed you long ago.”

His thumb began to brush lightly against your cheek, the desire to free himself of his gloves and feel you again growing stronger. Your breath caught in your throat briefly before you found the word you sought in a language so different from your own, albeit hardly above a whisper. “Ñuhon.”

“Kessa, kēlītsos, [Yes, little cat]” he breathed, the tip of his nose kissing yours lightly. “Lions, like dragons, do not belong to people. We belong to ourselves. But you have always been mine, and I have always been yours.” He brushed your cheek again gently, his fingertips so uncharacteristically light as the fire behind his eyes burned into yours. “You may be his wife to the kingdom, but the gods know you are mine.”

You felt more tears spill over your lashes, a sigh falling from your lips as Aemond twisted his head barely, pressing his lips to one of your cheeks to kiss the tear away. You only melted into him further, nuzzling your face into his hand that still rested on your cheek. It was a crime to be certain, his next move – and yet there was nothing truly wrong with the way he turned his head again, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so soft it was nostalgic of the first you’d shared years ago now. Although you should have pulled away, or at the very least hesitated, you returned his kiss without second thought. When he spoke next his words were muffled by your lips.

“I came to do what my brother will not and give you a proper wedding night,” he began, pressing another kiss to your lips when his thought was complete. “If it is not your wish, stop me now. I will listen to your command – I will leave these walls and not speak of this again if you ask it.”

You almost hesitated, almost took a moment to consider your answer, but threw any caution to the wind by granting him another kiss – rougher, needier, more desperate and yet still softer than Aemond felt he’d ever deserve. He grasped you tighter, his fingertips indenting into the soft skin on your cheek as his other hand clutched the fine fabric on your lower back, holding you closer to him. 

“I do love you, kēlītsos [little cat],” he muttered against your lips, unwilling to pull away but needing to say the words aloud nonetheless. “I have thought the words so many times now and never found it in myself to say them, though I should have before now.”

His hands left you to work on his own tunic, content with baring himself in some way to you first as he awaited your response. Your lips claimed his in another kiss before you found quiet words to whisper to him. “I have loved you for so long, Aemond, but he…he would kill me for this.”

“He wouldn’t dream of ordering harm to you with me to face.”

How long had he been thinking about this? Had he wanted to do this for years? Had he been considering taking you for months before Aegon could leading up to your wedding, or had something finally snapped in his mind today? Regardless of when it had happened – his mind was made up, and there was nothing that could be said to change his mind. 

He discarded the thick black fabric from his torso to the floor, uncaring where it landed before he claimed your lips in another full kiss, his hands making busy with the thin tie around your waist. Craving the way he’d kissed you in the dragon pit only months ago you parted your lips for him, his tongue immediately staking claim on the warmth of your mouth. As he pushed the robe from your shoulders, he carefully placed the clothing on a surface close by, taking much more care in your belongings than his own. There was nothing worth doing so fast he couldn’t show you that he cared for you – deeply. The extra time would never be a bother with you.

He was thankful your night dress was thin and loose enough to slide down your shoulders carefully, his head bowing to press kisses down the top of one of your shoulders as he pushed the straps free, hands grasping your hips to pull you close. When the bare skin of your torsos met both of you released a sigh, Aemond tucking his head into your neck and holding you close for a moment, relishing in the warmth passing between the two of you. This close you could feel his heartbeat, and the raised skin of whatever wounds he’d found himself on the receiving end of already, so young in many ways and old in several more. 

His lips started trailing up your neck, pulling a quiet gasp from you as your hands grasped his shoulders. He slid his hands to your lower back again to hold you as close as possible as his lips trailed lower, brushing over your collarbone. Aemond had been patient, and he could be for a while longer – as long as he got to feel as much of you as possible beneath his fingertips and lips.

He held you against him tightly, moving the two of you in front of the fireplace so he could see your body under the warm glow of the flames. As you followed his silent instruction your hands slid down his torso, eyes running over every inch of him hungrily as your fingers traced over the old scars you’d felt against you moments ago. He grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head backward so you would gaze up at him, and with your attention where he wanted it, he reached his other hand to cup one of your breasts, rubbing his thumb over your already hardened nipple gently. He sank to his knees in front of you slowly, covering you with feather-light kisses as he went, his every movement laced with intent as his kisses trailed to your hips. 

Though the heat that spread throughout your body had created a fog that shrouded your mind, you found a moment of clarity. Reaching your hands to hold the sides of his face carefully and applying just enough pressure for him to respond you lifted him back up to you, sliding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder. You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before trailing them up the side of his face gently before brushing them, impossibly light and so full of love, across the lower part of the old scar that still brought him pain. The hand that still rested on his cheek slid to the back of his head, fingers dancing over the strap that secured the covering to his face. 

“Kostilus [please],” you whispered gently, your quiet request filling his ears and pulling a gentle sigh from his lips. “I don’t wish for you to be hidden from me, Aemond.” It was the only time you were assertive with him, running your nose along his cheek to press a kiss beneath his ear. His breath caught in his throat, hands grasping at your waist as a quiet groan rumbled in his chest. He gave a firm nod, and you immediately pulled the patch free from his head, lying it carefully on the lounge next to you before whispering a quiet thank you. 

“I see my sister has been teaching you to mind your manners in our ancestral tongue,” he purred, sliding one of his hands up your back to run his hand over your hair, encouraging you to look at him. The moment you tilted your head back for him he claimed your lips, only momentarily before he withdrew to give you a moment to run your eyes over his face appreciatively. 

“Vhagar is the most fearsome dragon alive, and she wears many scars,” you cooed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the upper half of the scar on his face, your hand resting on his cheek to allow your thumb to brush over the bottom half. “The strongest dragons always do.”

While he wanted to claim your lips again in a kiss, he couldn’t hold himself back any further, lifting you into his arms to carry you to the bed as he gazed down into your face with an expression that melted further into love the longer it went on. He laid you in the bed with your head against the pillow before he crawled between your legs, encouraging your legs apart with the gentle caress of his hands. His lips followed his fingers on their path, soaking in the quiet mewls that he was already pulling from you. With your sex bared to him he could see your wet arousal leaking from your entrance, your thighs slick with the arousal he’d brought on.

He slid one of his hands higher up your thigh, a singular finger gathering some of the slick before he brought it to his face, popping the digit into his mouth with an appreciative hum. A wave of heat crashed through you accompanied by a gasp as your mouth fell open, the expression pulling a quiet chuckle from him as he lowered his head down, licking a stripe up the inside of your thigh with another low hum.

“Every inch of you is more beautiful than my mind could have done imagined,” he whispered into your skin before pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh. With one last glance to your face, he moved forward, running his tongue between your folds and grasping your thighs, holding you down slightly as you moaned for him. Wanton and greedy, he ran his tongue through your folds several more times before he could speak again. “I should throw you atop Vhagar now and flee so my brother may never taste you.”

With those final parting words, he dove into your awaiting sex, his tongue devouring you hungrily as the knowingly quiet symphony of your moans filled the bedchamber. He flicked the muscle over your swollen bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck up slightly which only resulted in him grabbing you tighter, holding you against his face. Running his tongue downward again he dipped it inside your awaiting heat, groaning at the feeling. 

Alternating between licks and sucks against your sensitive clit and fucking his tongue into you hastened the pressure building inside your lower half, your breaths becoming desperate as your thighs shook against his head. Feeling your walls flutter around his tongue he finally connected a thumb to your clit, rubbing it with the gentlest of circles as white-hot euphoria blinded your vision, his other hand reaching to clamp down over your mouth to stifle the scream that left your chest. Disconnecting his mouth from you, he continued his gentle movements with his thumb, his eyes gazing up to your face like he’d just discovered some fabled hidden treasure.

“I could stay here for hours feasting on you, beloved,” he cooed, leaning forward to lap up more of your nectar with a low groan in his chest. 

“Please, Aemond…” you whined, already sensitive and satisfied and yet desperate for more. 

“You want me to keep my head between your thighs, my Queen?” he pondered with that cocky, overly smug tone that always made you squeeze your thighs together. Another quiet whimper fell from your lips as you shook your head, breaths still desperate and mind still hazy from your orgasm.

“No, Aemond, I need you…please,” you began, shifting your hips against his hand to attempt for more pressure as his lips began to trail back up your body. He flattened his hand against your mound, allowing you to rub yourself on him – your desperation doing nothing to sedate his smirk. “Kostilus [please]. Don’t be cruel to me.”

His lips reached yours then, a gentle kiss carefully tucked into the corner of your mouth before he settled himself between your legs, leaning back on his haunches carefully. “Daor sir, gevie mēre [not yet, beautiful one],” he began, raking his eyes over your flushed figure beneath him in appreciation. “I have to open you up for me first.”

The hand that was still settled at your core dipped lower, one of his fingers teasing at your entrance in slow, tantalizing circles. When he’d pulled another moan from you and watched your face falter as you did, he slipped his index finger into your awaiting velvet channel. He felt your body tense at the intrusion, your walls clenching around his finger immediately. He wiggled it slightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth – more-so in concentration rather than disappointment. 

“Lykirī,” he cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I cannot make you feel good if you don’t relax yourself for me, beloved.” You could only lean your forehead to his as you nodded, closing your eyes and inhaling in a deep breath. He withdrew the digit from you before thrusting it back in again slowly, the edges of his lips ticking upward as you released a quiet whimper. “That’s better.”

Within minutes he had relaxed you, his finger circling and wiggling inside of you with each thrust, pulling more moans from you as your body became accustomed to his movements. He added a second finger soon after, causing a gasp to fall from your lips and your hips to buck forward against his hand. Pressing another kiss to your lips he then trailed them lower again, sucking your swollen clit between his lips gently as he curled his fingers inside to rub against the rough patch behind your clit. 

“A-Aemond…” you moaned, earning a groan from him as he then flicked his tongue against your clit, massaging it gently as he continued to wiggle his fingers against the spot deep within you that was causing your thighs to begin to shake again. When he began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves again a second wave of euphoria washed over you, a rush of wetness covering his hand as he pleasured you through the orgasm. 

Removing his fingers from you and chuckling quietly and the whimper you released from the loss, Aemond moved to stand beside the bed, working himself free of his pants which had begun to painfully restrict his throbbing cock. Once his member was free, he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking himself as he watched your breathing return to somewhat of a normal state, eyes roaming over your body appreciatively and the wetness that already covered your bed clothes. 

When you opened your eyes again and turned your head to gaze up at him you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. His free hand grasped one of yours gently, guiding it upward toward his cock in silent suggestion. When you wrapped your lithe fingers around his member he threw his head back in a moan, the noise turning to a low, rumbling growl in his chest as you mirrored his stroking movements from moments before.

Unable to deny his needs any longer he climbed back onto the bed between your legs, sighing at the loss when you removed your hand from him but appeasing himself by rubbing his cock against your core. Wrapping his own hand around himself again, he rubbed his leaking head between your folds to gather some slick against it. “Beg me again, my love. You sound so gorgeous when you beg for me.”

“Please, Aemond,” you breathed out, wrapping your legs around his waist in knowing anticipation. “Kostilus [please].”

He pushed into you slowly then, his thick cock sliding into your entrance and pulling an almost too loud cry from your lips, the protest silenced by his lips soon. His lips molded to yours as your hot channel took inch by inch of him, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he finally felt your tight walls embrace him. When he was fully sheathed inside you, he licked across the seam of your lips, stilling his waist as he kissed you deeply for several moments. 

When your legs around his waist started to relax just a bit and your walls fluttered around him, he slowly withdrew from you before pushing his cock back in to the hilt, pulling away from the kiss to hear the moan that left your lips. 

“So tight,” he breathed against your mouth quietly, beginning to repeat his slow and intentional thrusts. “I should have been enjoying your little cunt for years now.”

You could only whine at his words, too overstimulated and focused on how full you felt and the lingering pain of being stretched this way for the first time to form coherent words. His hair fell beautifully over his shoulders and brushed against your torso with his movements, a piece covering his eye from your view. When you lifted a hand to move the piece away from his face he smiled, turning his head to press his lips into your fingers before moving his kisses to your neck.

“Oh, the way you feel around me…” he groaned before pressing a kiss beneath your ear, his pace already picking up slightly. You were so tight and warm around him and he had wanted you for so long, the sheer feeling of finally being inside of you was not going to allow him a long session with you. There would, of course, be others, likely even in the same night – but for now he could only give in to the pleasure filling every cell in his body. “I’m going to come back here every night until I have filled your womb with my babe.”

You nearly moaned too loud again, your walls fluttering around him at his brazen, forbidden words. He lifted his head to gaze into your eyes again, leaning to press a kiss against your lips to assist you with muffling your cries as he picked up his pace more, grinding his hips into yours each time he’d gone as far as he could go. Though you were already feeling weak you managed to nod enough for him to register, your confirmation pulling a smile across his face. 

“Oh, you like that, kēlītsos?” he questioned, giving another particularly slow and intentional thrust to massage his velvety head against the spot deep within you. You moaned his name quietly, a worthy award for his efforts. “You want me to empty my seed into you? Speak it.”

“Yes, Aemond,” you whimpered immediately, knowing he would require an answer, knowing he needed to feel that power over you. His pace picked up again as another growl ripped through his chest, the lewd sounds of your bodies joining together creating a dizzying symphony in the room that he would gladly listen to forever.

“We will create the perfect dragon,” he replied, letting his intentions be fully known on the chance you hadn’t understood yet. “Strong, and smart, and beautiful, and powerful…much better children than Aegon could hope to give you.”

You nodded your agreement, moving your lips against his slowly, almost cautiously in a kiss to silence another loud cry that came from his lips as he rocked against your cervix. One of his hands reached to grasp yours, lifting it above your head as he lowered his own to connect his mouth to one of your budded nipples, suckling at it with fervor in the hopes it would push you closer to the edge. 

Your breaths soon became more desperate, legs shaking around his waist as the hand that wasn’t being held in his found way to the back of his head, your fingers lacing into his hair. He disconnected his mouth from your tit with a gentle bite to your nipple, an almost sinister smirk covering his features as you cried out for him again. “Will you release for me again, beloved? Find euphoria with me,” he almost begged, quickly adjusting his words to a simple instruction. 

You nodded, vision going white again as he reconnected his mouth to yours, kissing you with more passion than he had thus far. With your walls clenching him tightly he found his own release, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls as a loud cry of his own ripped through his chest, thankful once again that your mouth swallowed most of the volume. 

At the same time Aemond’s sound of pleasure filled the bedchamber the familiar cry of Sunfyre was heard above the castle, an interruption in the night sky no doubt caused by the new king taken a drunken flight to impress his chosen whores for the night. As Aemond released your mouth from his when his orgasm had finished, he leaned his head against your shoulder to speak through bated breaths. 

“Perhaps he will fall from his dragon and become so injured I must rule in his stead.”

masterlist.

[monzamash]

ruin the friendship — charles leclerc

summary – maybe you were a little more than friends but that was between you, charles and god. nobody else. and you refused to be the one to break the pact. pairing – charles leclerc x you (female reader) rating – 18+ (smut, language, sexual references, probably bad french/italian) word count – 2.5k a/n – “we passed being friends like 20 fucks ago” requested by anon. thank you! masterlist

“Everybody get changed for dinner and we will meet downstairs at the restaurant in an hour. Le Bein?”

The group of nearly a dozen of Charles’ co-workers, employees and friends all nodded in agreement and went their separate ways in the foyer, buzzing about how beautiful the resort was. And it was truly magnificent. Extravagance fortified every wall, even the ceilings. Chandeliers dangling from the rafters above, sparkling and flaunting the huge amount of wealth that was stashed away in the Italian Alps. Eye-watering amounts of wealth.

You weren’t enamoured like the rest because simplicity was more your taste, minimalist living was the way of the future and you weren’t afraid to voice that to Charles as he walked up beside you, eyes trained on your rolling ones. His hand was dangerously hovering above your lower back, the large puffy jacket the only thing keeping his hot touch barricaded from your cool skin – he couldn’t help himself.

“It’s over the top but Ferrari is paying for all of it,” He whispered into your ear, too close for your comfort, especially around his brothers who were no doubt watching your every move – adamantly sceptical that you and Charles were just friends.

“I should report you for misuse of company funds, sir. And if anyone from work asks why I was here when we get back next week – it was a coincidence. Purely happenstance.”

“Si,” Charles drawlled, toggling between his native tongue and Italian, which always threw you off, “You coming up to my room after dinner will just be some luck too, yes?”

You could hear the smirk on his face before you let your eyes glance his way, breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck and again, standing way too close for a pair of colleagues who, by chance, had accidentally found themselves in the same place, at the same time. That was the story and you were sticking with it. Unfortunately Charles was a horrible actor – that much was obvious since the moment he sparked up this unlikely romance with you but in his defence, his impulses were intensified after weeks of being away from you. And you felt the same.

The relationship wasn't exclusive by any stretch of the imagination in the beginning, but as time went on, you became loyal to each other. The friends with benefits label was a facade for the public and for your employment but deep down, you both knew there was more to your relationship than just sex. You knew each other so intimately and spent hours staying up ‘til dawn, sharing your deepest, darkest secrets. He made you feel safe, like you were more than just a girl who happened to work for the same company he worked for. It was easy to get swept up in the lavish lifestyle and reap the benefits that came with it but Charles saw you differently – saw life differently. And to him, you were the missing piece to his puzzle.

You were friends’ first – great friends but he was charming and by far the most attractive man you’d ever laid your two eyes on. And by some miracle, he felt the same way about you. But all of that meant your friendship had been compromised, your working relationship was hanging in the balance because if either of you caught feelings and made them public, then you’d have to report it to HR and you didn’t want to lose what you had.

Because sneaking around was kind of hot. Or really hot if you asked Charles and you didn’t want to burst his bubble. You weren’t that selfish and truth be told, you enjoyed the thrill of it. The secret glances from across a table when you were supposed to be taking notes, subtle touches whenever he complimented your suggestions in a meeting and riskiest of all, the quick fucks in his drivers’ room between qualifying blocks. That had unabashedly become a perk of your job and a scandal waiting to be blown wide open but you loved it.

“I think it might just be your lucky day, Leclerc,” You replied and looked away from the man who was seconds away from exposing your secret, calling off dinner and dragging you up to his room for dessert. But he was better than that and obviously he could control himself for a couple more hours. Surely. 

“See you soon then.”

He looked like a man tortured when you walked into the restaurant, all of your glorious curves swaying side to side, eyes on everyone but him. Since simplicity was your style, you’d gone classic – long, black satin skirt hiding the stilettos you wished you didn’t have to wear, paired with a black blazer and a white, lacy bustier top underneath. It was a fancy establishment, which meant everyone was done up to the nines, their best attire on display and you were pleasantly surprised that Charles hadn't caved to the pressure of appearances, marching to the beat of his own drum in a basic black tee. He still looked as delicious as the aperitini he’d already ordered for you, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“For me?” You asked him politely, feigning surprise even though these were the little things he would do for you in place of physical touch.

“Of course.” He smiled, delighted that you took the seat directly across from him and not the one being offered to you by his annoying younger brother.

You are beautiful, he mouthed once everyone returned to their 'round the table small talk. You are. Charles had you blushing and fidgeting with your thin gold chain, as if it was first time he'd ever said that to you. It wasn't but it still had you squirming in your seat, grinning like a lunatic.

The 3-course dinner was sensational, and more than satisfied the hunger you’d conjured up during your long day on the slopes and Charles agreed wholeheartedly. He had also worked up quite the appetite retrieving you from the snow every time you stacked it, brushing the ice from your suit and cheeks, lingering longer than he should have. It was great fun but famishing once you all made it back to the resort.

“All my training has gone down the drain after that meal – my god.” Charles groaned and patted Andrea on the back with a mischievous smile, taunting his trainer and closest confidante. Andrea simply shook his head and muttered something to the effect of vaffanculo before disappearing into the bar with the others, sick of Charles' shit after being stuck with him in the Dolomites for the last 3 weeks.

You and Charles hung back from the group, both waiting for the other to send up the bat signal, or in your case, holding up the three-finger salute. Your first solo hang out – not a date – with Charles was watching the Hunger Games together, snuggled up with a glass of wine. Ever since, your signal to abort mission had been the sign used in that film and more recently it’d become your gesture for sex. Would you have liked it to be a little more sexy? Sure but it did the job.

“People are going to miss you, ma belle,” Charles whispered between the soft kisses he was sloppily pressing to your trembling lips, backing you against the only blank wall in the room.

“Don’t care.” You rasped, moans caught in your dry throat as you felt a pair of cold hands unzipping the long silk skirt you’d worn to dinner and gliding it down your shaky legs like it was as light as a feather.

A small gasp slipped from your lips as you caught Charles’ dark eyes again, his soft laugh fanning warmth across your face, "All I've been able to think about tonight is this..." He stammered off with a smirk before running his hands down your sides, pushing the thin blazer off your shoulders and gaining full access to the length of your neck.

You moaned quietly and brushed your dainty fingers through his soft, dark brown locks, "It's all I've wanted since we got here," You whispered and rested your head back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his hands smoothing down your to your ass.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Charles growled against the tops of your breasts that were being pushed up by the tight bustier top, leaving you breathless and shaky under his touch. He got off on having complete control over your body, especially like this – desperate and panting for him in the darkness.

Charles dropped down to his knees and pushed his hands up under the hem of your top so he could access the waistband of your panties. You were spellbound now with your eyes closed and heart thumping in your chest, head dizzy and skin sizzling as he trailed his hands down your thighs, gliding your flimsy underwear down far enough that you could step out of them without needing to look.

"So sexy." Charles groaned at the sight of the dark red lace that had been hidden by your skirt, his hot breath now fanning over your shaky legs that were now completely bare and exposed to the cool air, even though your were burning up, "Le rouge n'a jamais été aussi beau." Red never looked so good.

His large hands gripped you thighs and roughly separated them in front of his mouth, every single little movement riling you up even more. Charles was ravenous, hungry to devour your after hours of deprivation – starved of your taste, of his name falling from your lips. He needed it, needed you to sing his praises, beg him for more and you never disappointed.

Your fingers brushed back up the side of his head as he hooked your leg over his shoulder and buried his tongue between your thighs, sending you into overdrive and taking your breath away. Your hands instantaneously gripped the tuft of brown waves on top of his head, trying to control the moans that were threatening to escape your chapped lips, his fingers doing the work of a maestro, orchestrating your body like a symphony.

"Feels so good," You whined as Charles grunted, mouth still attached to your cunt as he readjusted your leg on his strong, muscular shoulder, deepening the achingly perfect angle even further and making your already shaky legs start to tremble with pleasure.

Charles took your sensitive clit between his teeth, gently and pressed his free hand that wasn't clutching your thigh to your stomach, balancing you as best he could as you uncontrollably bucked your hips, riding his perfectly flat tongue. You placed your smaller hand over his and arched into his face, trying to alleviate the knot building in the pit of your stomach. He felt so fucking good and looked even better when you did dare open your eyes, peering down into his sinful ones.

The small smirk that appeared on Charles’ dimpled cheeks when your gaze met his was enough to send you spiralling into a whimpering mess, unable to stop the loud moan that ripped from your constricted throat – you were getting closer with every single teasing stoke he gave you, his thick fingers fucking you into a blackout and you were losing it. He muffled a laugh and didn't relent one bit as you white knuckled his wrist, attempting to hold in the noises that were so close to escaping, jaw clenched.

"I wanna hear you, bella – let me hear you," Charles panted as he glanced up and continued to taunt you, “I want to hear you moaning for me like this for the rest of my fucking life.”

Even in your orgasmic haze, you furrowed your already rutted brows at his comment, head throw back, still whimpering, “Friends don’t say that to each other, Charles.” You breathed, gliding on his unrelenting fingers, his pace slowing as he processed your words.

Charles scoffed and pulled back from your pulsing core, eyes trained on yours as he pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh, voice hoarse. “I think we passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago, baby. You don’t have to pretend when it’s just you and me.”

It took you a second until you nodded silently, agreeing that you didn’t need to keep the act up with him. You brushed your fingers that had been knotted in his thick, beautiful hair, down the sides of his glistening face, lips raw and looking like a mirage.

“I like it when it’s just you and me.”

If you blinked, you thought he may disappear from your vision but he made sure you knew he was real, kitten licking your sensitive bud and reassuring you that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“Me too.” He whispered.

It didn’t take long for Charles to resume his toe-curling assault, sending every nerve in your system into lockdown as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He’d put both of your feet on the ground, thighs spread as far as they go so you could ride his face, insisting that you came like that for him. The feeling of having every breath suppressed from his lungs while you let yourself go on his tongue, fingernails clawing at the skin on your thighs was worth the rush of blood to his brain. His face was beet-red, pupils blown out and he was achingly hard, scared he was going to blow in his pants like a prepubescent teen.

"Oh my fucking god, Charles," You moaned loudly as he reached up and pressed his palm firmly on your flushed chest, needing to feel your heart thumping under your skin, making him feel alive.

"I've got you."

"I'm – baby, I’m right there!" You cried out, head thrown back against the wall again as Charles eased you through your earth shattering high, panting and sweltering under his touch.

Loud moans echoed through the hotel room as he lapped up everything you had to give, holding you in place and making sure you were completely satisfied before removing his shaky fingers and pressing a couple of pecks to your reddening thighs – no doubt leaving bruises from his tight grip. You couldn’t wait to feel those small reminders of his touch in the morning. It took a good couple of seconds for your mind and body to float back down from the clouds above and god, it was a gorgeous sight when you did come to.

"You are so good at that," You breathed as Charles used your hips to drag himself up off the carpeted floor, hands still clutching your waist to also keep your knees from buckling. He knew you too well.

The sensation of his swollen lips kissing yours brought you back and without hesitation, you hooked your arms over his shoulders and deepened the kiss. His hands snaked around your lower back, bodies flush and you could finally feel how hard he was underneath his trousers.

Knowing Charles was that turned on from making you feel ethereal triggered a proud smirk to sweep across your flushed face, “Would you like some help with this, friend?” You teased, reaching down for the button on his pants, flicking it open with ease.

“It’s what friends are for, no?” He cockily replied before you clutched his stiff cock in your palm, causing him to gasp at the sensation.

“Absolutely would love your help – thank you very much,” Charles quickly added, desperate for your attention as he captured your lips in a rough kiss and nudged your body towards his messy bed.

“That’s what I thought,” You chuckled into the kiss, letting him cash in every single benefit he could imagine. All night long.

let me know what you think!

[bairdthereader]

Charlie Spring, An Appreciation: Part 1, Courage

Nick Nelson gets a lot of love, and justifiably so; I'll be the first to admit that he's amazing (see my many Nick-related posts as evidence). But I hear all too often that Charlie is leveling up by being with Nick, or that Nick is too good for Charlie. I beg to differ—vehemently—and here's why, part 1 (of 3, maybe?).

I often find myself in awe of Charlie during some of the quietest and least dramatic parts of the Heartstopper show and comics, because his bravery, resilience, and tenacity are displayed in ways that seem inconsequential, but are actually incredibly meaningful and telling. This boy has a thread of steel running through him, whether it's obvious at first glance or not.

We see this almost from the very beginning, when Charlie is assigned to a new form and told that he'll be sitting next to Nick, "one of the rugby boys," and, "I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly." Here is not only Charlie's worst personal nightmare, but also a teacher who is blithely unaware of the terrible position he's just put Charlie in--being placed in close, daily proximity to the type of person Charlie associates with the darkest time of his life. But we don't see fear on his face, or even that much dread—this tells us so much about him in just a nanosecond. There's resignation and bitterness, yes, but Charlie knows he can withstand this, because he's been there before and survived. This is borne out in later conversations with Nick where Charlie assures him that "I'm used to it." This is a horrifying injustice, one Nick rightly calls out, and it shows Charlie's resilience in the face of a degree of cruelty that many people never experience.

This little moment outside of the changing room is another revealing scene. Charlie knows exactly what he's walking into, exactly the kinds of comments and sly bullying he's going to experience in that room. He knows he will have to have his guard up every second, that he will have to prove himself to this group, even though he shouldn't have to. He also knows he'll be fighting his own self-doubt, and so this experience will be a battle on two fronts. (Three fronts, if you include trying to hide his feelings for Nick.) But he does it anyway. Sure, you could argue he's doing it solely to be near Nick, but I think this is also his way of making sure that those boys don't dictate his actions or his life. This is Charlie taking a stand. And this is just one example—he does this over and over and over again, in many different settings and situations.

Case in point, calling it off with Ben. Charlie has been the victim of what is essentially brainwashing and abuse from Ben for months. Ben has told Charlie verbally and shown him physically that Charlie means less than nothing to Ben, and that Charlie can never expect anyone to ever want him or care for him. And Charlie often, tragically, believes him. That Charlie is able to break free of this vicious cycle and take the steps to distance himself from Ben shows his immense inner strength. You can see on Charlie's face (thanks to Joe Locke's inimitable talent) that he can't even believe he's done it. And we have to keep in mind that this happens long before Nick is a real possibility, so we can't say Charlie does this for Nick. He does it for himself.

I do have to include one of the more iconic scenes, because this ⬇️is Charlie's clarion call, his hope, his banner, for the rest of this story. He knows he has a lot of problems to work through, that he's complicated and sometimes hard to interpret, so it's easy to see this scene and think Charlie's words come from a place of insecurity (and of course that is some of what's happening here). But he's strong enough to both acknowledge it and ask honestly that Nick not let those parts of Charlie become the focus of their relationship. He requests, even during this moment of almost brutal honesty and vulnerability, that Nick see him completely, as the whole person he can be, because Charlie knows that person is there inside himself. The self awareness and bravery this takes is enormous.

There are a million other moments like this that I could write about, both big and small:

But I'll end this already lengthy post with this: When one considers the amount of sheer courage Charlie has to exert just to live his daily life, it almost defies understanding. Charlie Spring is a gladiator of the mind and heart, completely worthy of any good thing.

[ruiniel]

What You Choose

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader

Count: 2K

Rating: T (M later)

Part I

Summary: Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.

Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, blood, injury, death, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, Rengoku POV, eventual smut

Author Note: I am not OK and will never be OK about *waves hands* all that, so this is now a multichapter story.

II.

“Once again, you’re a guest in my healing ward.”

Kocho Shinobu speaks softly, as is her manner. She's seated by his bed with the afternoon sun shining gently on her features, highlighting the amethyst in her hair and eyes.

“I seem to be the only one,” Rengoku replies, looking at the empty infirmary. He’s still bedbound and can barely move his limbs. It hurts to breathe more often than not, and there’s a dull ache where his left eye used to be.

Her kind smile never falters as Kocho looks at the liquid in the syringe she’s preparing. Rengoku always admired her decision to honor her late sister this way, by holding on to that smile Kanae loved so much. After all, everyone has a keepsake of their loved ones in their heart, driving them forward. Memories, moments, words that hone one’s spirit and meld with determination, acting as a guiding light in the darkest places. He knows this all too well. 

“At least you won’t be lonely during your convalescence, those three have been coming here every day, even before you’d awoken.” She giggles, seeking a vein in his arm. 

Oh, of course… young Kamado… the boar lad, the yellow-haired boy. All of them gifted, resilient, and unwavering. He’d promised to train them, but…

That was… before. 

Another image appears before his mind’s eye, drenched in fog—you, running towards him. He, ordering you not to interfere. “Kocho. Tell me, please. How long before I can leave this bed? What is lost, what can I regain?” 

She sets the used syringe aside on a tray, then places her hands on her knees. “My, my, impatient already?” 

Rengoku tries a smile of his own, though it hurts the muscles in his face. If not for the strong sedatives and painkillers administered to him since he regained consciousness, he imagines he’d be squirming in pain. “I want to self-assess myself. Besides…I have promises to keep.” 

She understands. He knows she does. The Insect Hashira gazes out the window, and a small sigh leaves her chest. “Your fatal injuries have been healed by the peculiar blood demon art of young Kamado’s sister.”

He nods. Remarkable. He thought that would be his last battle, and he’d have passed without regret into the land of Yomi. Nevertheless, his gratitude is boundless.

“... your muscle and organ tissue has regenerated and there was no internal bleeding. However, there is still some damage to several vertebrae in your spine, severe trauma to your head I’ve not fully assessed yet, and you have eight fractured ribs.”

“Hah, I can feel them, too! I miscalculated by one, I thought there were seven.”

She looks his way, with that odd expression people sometimes have when he sounds unreasonably high-spirited. He supposes not everyone shares the same outlook, and that’s all well. But what use is there to bow down in dismay and accept the worst life throws my way? 

“Your left eye was smashed, and irrecoverable,” Kocho goes on. “We removed it with surgery and placed an implant inside to fill the empty eye socket. The recovery period in these cases is typically a year, as now you must adapt to your monocular status. But this also depends on the individual, and… this might mean alterations to your fighting style, of course.” She rises and picks up the tray. “I’m convinced that with time, you can return to a state allowing you to perform your duties. For now, please rest, that is a foremost priority.”

My friend, you know all too well that time is never on a demon slayer’s side. “Thank you, Kocho.”  She is right, though: he does feel exhausted, as though he’d climbed a mountain without rest or ever reaching the summit. Expected, though bothersome.

“We’ll do our best to help your recovery. Aoi will return later to change your bandages,” Kocho adds.

Rengoku turns his head as Kocho greets someone on her way out, and sees you, standing in the doorway. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“You heard?”

You nod, nearing the bed. “Ms. Kocho told me of it all while you were asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head in bemusement. “What ever for?”

“Because, I won’t be able to help with your training for a while.”

You’ve been at his side often. While in a coma, even if he couldn’t react, even if his body wouldn’t listen, he knew you were there. The thought is a warm one, a foreign sensation: different from the heat bursting in his body during a fight. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to your visits even now, to see how you’re faring, to hear the latest news on the Corps.

“No,” your voice brings him out of his thoughts, “but that does mean I can help you. When you’re ready, that is,” you add quickly. “With rehabilitation training.” 

“Of course!” The fatigue in his body is stubborn, clinging to him like heavy wet wool. “And… I don’t believe I’ve told you this yet: I’m happy you returned safely.”

You look away, appearing utterly miserable. It confuses him. Rengoku’s seen that shadow in his father’s eyes countless times, so often he can’t stand it: self-loathing.

“Forgive me, Master. I should have been able to do more, after all you strived to teach me. I… I could barely be of any use.”

But you were there, you helped protect all those people. You did your part. “You were unflinching, fast, and aided those who needed it precisely like I taught you. You are rank Kinoe, and what's your demon kill count?”

“Thirty-two.”

“There… now that I think about it, even without further guidance from me or anyone else, you’ll make Hashira soon! Our numbers are dwindling while demon activity increases. You’ve seen it. This is a struggle that needs all of us.” Rengoku pauses. The word ‘need’ felt odd coming from his mouth. But the statement is true. Why does it feel incomplete when he says it to your face?

You look down at your hands. “How can you do it?”

He blinks, frowning. “Do what?”

“Be so supportive and encouraging even when you’re lying broken in an infirmary bed. Sometimes… sometimes you are so very strange, Master.”

You do say that to him often, though less so than before. A smile trembles on your lips—it took you a long time to smile again, he recalls. 

“I merely speak the truth…” He can barely stay awake. The slow drip of liquid in the IV infusion is magnified, drowning out all other sounds, and your face becomes hazy as he drifts away.

Three years prior

The path of blood leads straight into the farmhouse, looking as though someone had been dragged inside by force.

His eyes narrow, and he centers his breaths as he walks forward with his blade drawn. The silence of the glade is eerie, the reek of decay nauseating in the heat of this humid summer.

Soon, he stands on the threshold. Two, there might be two of them. Near the farmhouse is a toolshed, he’ll look there next. Rengoku covers his mouth with his sleeve, eyes closing in pain.

The bodies lie there, some with scattered limbs. This was a family, no doubt about it. The brutality of the mutilation makes his stomach turn, but Rengoku steels his resolve, extending his senses for any hint of the entity’s presence: there is none. He sheathes his katana and enters the space proper. Three hours until dawn.

He descends to one knee, finding the fireplace in the middle is out, but the ashes are still warm. The tatami mats are sticky and stained dark. This all transpired recently. He reaches out a hand, touches an inert arm: not yet cold. Too late, I am too late. But I’ll find you, wherever you are, you damn beasts. 

It’s only due to his reflexes, honed with endless hours of training, that he turns around fast enough, leaping backward before the descending attack.

At first, he thinks it’s the demon, his katana at the ready.

“Don’t you dare touch them!” 

He pauses, nearly too late in avoiding the second strike. A girl’s voice, a human’s heartbeat. His arm shoots out, catching the wooden staff in a strong grip. 

You’re panting, eyes wild and glimmering in the moonlit night. “Let—go!”

“Wait, I’m not an enemy!” he says, taking a better look at you, still holding your makeshift weapon even as you try to wrest it from his hand. 

“How do I know that! Demon!” Your voice is hoarse. Half your face is caked in drying blood, and there must be multiple injuries on your body judging by the torn clothing and the widening dark stains. 

“I’m not a demon,” he speaks calmly but urgently. “I hunt them. Please, they may still be close.”

You jerk your chin towards a corner of the room. “I had him… I don’t need you. Get out of my home!” you yell, more desperate with each word. “Get out, get out, get out!”

Another body lies there in the dark, slitted pupils dark against its milky eyes. The head had been nearly completely crushed. Rengoku freezes in disbelief. You did this? Alone? “Wait, you don’t understand, there’s another—”

A loud crash severs his words as the ceiling collapses, and he barely has time to leap forward, catch you in his arms, and throw himself outside. He rolls onto the ground, pain erupting in his left shoulder with the impact. When he opens his eyes you’re there, safely held against him, face tearstained and body rigid with shock.

But there’s no time to explain further—he feels it. The gurgle of inhuman hunger as a figure emerges from the wreckage of the farmhouse, eyes fixed on them. It does not speak, but growls in hunger; it must be of the feral kind, no reasoning left as the transformation rotted its memories. 

Rengoku rises, changing his stance. “Stand back,” he urges, looking over his shoulder at you as you struggle with your own body. He looks back ahead, grinds his teeth, his breathing attuned to his thought. 

First Form: Unknowing Fire.

It doesn’t last long. He’s been running from mission to mission, dispensing with different kinds of fiends, and this was yet another run in a long chain that will only end with his own life. 

Once the head is removed, the battle is over. Sometimes there is someone left to check on after the fact; often, there isn’t. But now, Rengoku hurries towards you, descending and slipping a hand under your back, aiding you to sit. “Where are you hurt?”

“Thank you,” you say instead, eyes glazing over. He hopes the Kakushi will get here soon. You point towards your ruined home. “Set it ablaze… please.” 

“Hey, hey, stay awake!” Rengoku urges even as your body turns heavier and your eyes roll back. 

He expected this to come. Kneeling and with his forehead pressed to the ground he sits still, prostrated before the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. 

A voice like the lull of spring reaches him, setting his worries aside. In his heart, he thinks he’s done what is right.

“Rank Kinoe Rengoku Kyojuro, you are summoned to explain why you have brought a non-combatant to headquarters, instead of having the Kakushi transport them to a civilian hospital.”

“Master, the girl shows extraordinary potential. Her family has been murdered by demons, and yet she managed to fell one before I arrived, alone, despite grievous wounds and bloodloss. Forgive me if I overstepped, but I believe…” 

“Go on.”

“I believe once her body heals and her focus returns, she will join the fight. I believe she will want to. If I'm wrong, I accept all consequences.”

“You sound fairly convinced of this, young Rengoku,” says Ubuyashiki Kagaya. “Though there is no reason to know for certain one way or the other.”

He stays quiet, his heart raging in his chest. It will all depend on you, of course. You may want to have nothing to do with this. 

“But… you’ve not failed us thus far. I will allow it.”

“Gratitude, Master.” And then, almost in the same breath, “If she chooses this, I will guide her myself.”

TBC

[stxrbxrn]

sorrow and stardust …

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader tw: angst <3 word count: 2k ( give or take ) a/n: i haven't written smut in like 2 years please be nice

the twin suns of tatooine dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet. you stood at the entrance of ben kenobi's modest dwelling, your silhouette a stark contrast against the fading light. the cooling air whispered across your skin, carrying with it the scent of sand and distant memories.

inside, obi-wan - for that was how you'd always know him - moved about with quiet purpose. his weathered hands arranged two earthenware cups on a rough-hewn table, steam rising from their depths in lazy spirals. he paused, sensing your presence, and turned to face you.

"you shouldn't be here," he said softly, his blue-grey eyes holding a storm of emotions.

you stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind you. "i had to see you."

the space between you crackled with unspoken words and suppressed longing. obi-wan's shoulders slumped slightly, as if bearing the weight of the galaxy. he gestured to the table.

"please, sit. the tea will get cold."

you took your place across from him, wrapping your fingers around the warm cup. its heat seeped into your bones, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your heart. obi-wan remained standing, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the walls of his humble abode.

"why did you come?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"you know why," you replied, your own voice thick with emotion. "i couldn't stay away. not after... everything."

obi-wan closed his eyes, pain etching deep lines across his face. when he opened them again, they shimmered with unshed tears. "it's not safe. i'm not safe."

you rose from your seat, closing the distance between you in two swift strides. your hand reached out, hovering just shy of touching his cheek. "obi-wan..."

he flinched away from your touch, turning his back to you. the rejection stung, but you stood your ground.

"look at me," you pleaded. "please."

slowly, agonizingly, he turned to face you once more. the years of exile had taken their toll, etching lines of sorrow and regret into his once-youthful features. yet beneath the weathered exterior, you could still see the man you'd fallen in love with – the jedi master whose unwavering dedication to peace and justice had captured your heart.

"i'm not good for you," obi-wan said, his voice raw with emotion. "i bring nothing but danger and sorrow. you deserve better than a broken man living in exile."

your heart ached at his words. "you're wrong," you whispered fiercely. "you are everything good in this galaxy. your compassion, your strength, your unwavering light – even in the darkest times."

obi-wan shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "my light? i failed. i failed the jedi, the republic, and..." his voice broke. "and anakin."

you reached out, this time grasping his hand in yours. he didn't pull away, and you felt a glimmer of hope. "you didn't fail, obi-wan. you did everything you could. the choices others made are not your burden to bear."

he looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "but they are my burden," he murmured. "every life lost, every system that fell..."

you stepped closer, your free hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "then let me help you carry it," you said. "you don't have to face this alone."

obi-wan's eyes met yours, a maelstrom of longing and fear swirling in their depths. "i can't ask that of you. the empire... if they ever discovered my whereabouts, if they found out about you..."

"i know the risks," you interrupted. "i've always known them. but a life without you, obi-wan kenobi, is no life at all."

for a moment, the walls he'd built around his heart seemed to crumble. he leaned into your touch, his forehead resting against yours. you breathed him in – the scent of sun-warmed fabric, ans lingering tea.

"i've missed you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "more than i can say."

your heart soared at his words, but the moment was fleeting. as quickly as it had come, the vulnerability in his eyes was replaced by steely resolve. he stepped back, gently disentangling himself from your embrace.

"but that doesn't change anything," obi-wan said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "i have a duty here, a purpose. i must protect luke, prepare for the day when... when he might be our last hope."

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "and what about us?"

obi-wan's gaze softened, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "our love is like the stars in the sky. beautiful, eternal... and impossibly distant."

the words hung in the air between you. you wanted to argue, to rail against the unfairness of it all. but deep down, you knew he was right. others needed obi-wan far more than you did.

"will you at least let me stay the night?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "one last night before..."

obi-wan hesitated, conflict clear in his eyes. for a moment, you thought he might refuse. then, with a nearly imperceptible nod, he acquiesced.

you stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, the taste of him like a long-forgotten dream. his hands settled on your hips, but he held himself back.

your hands went to the sash holding his robes closed. as you untied it, you kissed him, hoping the kiss would convey all the words that wouldn't come. the sash fell to the floor, and you parted his robes. the skin of his chest was soft beneath your touch.

his hand came up to cradle your cheek. "i've missed you," he murmured, "more than you know."

obi-wan kissed you again, and this time, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. his tongue teased your lower lip, and begging for you to part them. let him in. and you did. the feeling made you shiver. you were suddenly aware of how sensitive your body was.

he stood, you in his arms, slolwy walking you both towards the bed. his lips left yours as he guided you onto the bed, laying you down and climbing on top of you. your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved down your neck. his tongue teased at the place where your shoulder and neck met. his teeth nipped lightly at your skin. you moaned quietly, arching your back, pressing your chest against his.

obi-wan's hands slid down your sides, pausing to squeeze your breasts. a whimper escaped your lips. his thumbs rubbed across your nipples, sending bolts of heat straight between your legs. his hands continued downward, pausing to trace the curve of your waist, the jut of your hips. then his hands were on the bare skin of your thighs. you could feel the roughness of his palms against your smooth skin.

he pulled back, looking down at you. his pupils were blown wide with desire, and his face was flushed. his gaze was heated as it raked over your body, taking in the sight of you laid out before him.

"you are the most beautiful woman i've ever known," he murmured.

he lowered his head to press a kiss just above your navel. his lips moved upward, tracing the path his hands had taken moments earlier. your skin burned with every brush of his lips. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear. he paused, waiting for you to protest. when you didn't, he slid the garment down your legs and discarded it.

obi-wan looked at you with a mixture of reverence and hunger. he ran his hands up your legs, spreading them. your breath hitched as his fingers trailed across your inner thighs.

"are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"yes," you gasped.

he stroked his thumb over your clit, sending a shudder through your body. a moan left your lips as he rubbed slow circles. the pleasure was intense, and you found yourself bucking your hips against his hand, chasing the friction.

he dipped a finger into you, and the intrusion drew a moan from deep within your chest. obi-wan curled his finger inside you, and stars danced behind your eyes. he added another finger, and you couldn't hold back the sounds spilling from your lips.

"please," you moaned.

you could feel the tight coil in the pit of your stomach. your muscles were trembling, and your head was thrown back. you were so close.

obi-wan added a third finger, and the pleasure was too much. you felt like your body was about to shatter. your climax washed over you, and your vision went white. you were vaguely aware of the way you cried out his name, the way your hips bucked against his hand.

when the waves of pleasure subsided, you opened your eyes. obi-wan's head was bowed, his brow furrowed in concentration. the muscles in his shoulders were tense, and his chest was heaving.

"what's wrong?" you asked, reaching up to cup his face.

"it's just...been a while," he said through gritted teeth.

you took him by the hand and tugged him toward you. he resisted briefly, but you were determined. you straddled his lap, feeling the hard length of him pressing against you. you reached down and undid his trousers. obi-wan didn't resist as you freed his cock.

you stroked him slowly, relishing the way his body shuddered against yours. you pressed kisses to his neck, nipping lightly at the skin. he groaned, burying his face in your shoulder.

"tell me if i hurt you," he breathed.

"you won't," you promised.

you guided his cock to your entrance, the tip sliding inside you. his hips jerked, driving him deeper.

"fuck," he gasped.

you bit down on your lower lip to hold back a whimper. he felt bigger than you remembered. he filled you so completely, the sensation nearly overwhelming. you forced yourself to take a breath, letting your body adjust to the intrusion.

"are you alright?" he asked, his voice strained.

you nodded.

he began to move, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place. his eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched. his body was tense, every muscle straining against the need to let go.

you leaned in and kissed him, trying to soothe his worries.

you rocked your hips against his, eliciting a moan from deep in his throat.

"please."

you could feel the last of his resistance crumble. his grip tightened on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. you could tell he was close.

his hips snapped forward, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you. he cried out, his release washing over him. he collapsed back against the pillows, his chest heaving.

you laid down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. you were both silent for a while, lost in your thoughts.

"thank you," obi-wan murmured.

you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, savoring the warmth of his body and the smell of his skin.

as the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky, you stirred from your place in his arms. obi-wan's eyes fluttered open, immediately finding yours. for a brief, beautiful moment, there was nothing but love between you.

then reality came crashing back.

you dressed in silence, each movement feeling like a step towards an inevitable goodbye. obi-wan stood by the door, his jedi robes hanging loosely on his frame. he looked older in the pale morning light.

you approached him one last time, cupping his face in your hands. "i love you, obi-wan kenobi. no matter what happens, no matter how far apart we are – that will never change."

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "and i love you. may the force be with you... always."

with a final, lingering kiss, you stepped out into the harsh tatooine morning. the suns climbed higher in the sky, their heat already beginning to shimmer off the sand. you didn't look back as you walked away, knowing that if you did, your resolve would crumble.

obi-wan watched you go, his heart breaking anew with each step you took. he remained at the door long after you'd disappeared from view, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"goodbye, my love," he whispered to the empty desert.

[seaadc]

THE ARCHER LYRICS WITH GENSHIN MEN

ayato, xiao, wanderer !!

implied angst, f!reader?, slight fluff if you squint, skipped some lyrics (lmk if i missed any warnings)

ayato + “i never grew up, it's getting so old”

wc: 526

Ayato had always been different from his peers. While the other inazuman children grew up, played historical games, and dreamed about their futures, he remained stuck in his own world. His father wanting him to be the lead, he was too busy with his own practice and “training” that he never quite fit in, and it showed in the way he carried himself.

There was a weight in his eyes that spoke of a deep sadness, a longing that he couldn't quite put into words.

It wasn't until he met you that he began to see a glimmer of hope. You were different too, in a way. You saw the world through a different lens, one that he found intriguing. You made him feel alive in a way he hadn't felt in years.

But as time passed, Ayato began to realize that he was holding onto something that he couldn't quite grasp. He wanted to be with you, to hold your hand and never let go. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't good enough. That he was still that same lost boy he had been all his life.

The boy that knew nothing but just work, wanting to be the lead of the Yashiro Commission, wanting to impress his little sister, wanting to see far heights. The boy that thought being apart of the Yashiro Commission was his future.

But, maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was… you.

One night, as you sat together in the moonlight, Ayato took your hand and looked into your eyes. "I never grew up," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's getting so old."

You looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Ayato hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I mean...I feel like I'm still that same boy I was when I was twelve. I never quite grew up. And now...I don't know what to do. I don't know how to be with you when I can't even be with myself."

You took his hand and squeezed it, Ayato feeling the warmth spread through his palm.

"Ayato, you don't have to have everything figured out. You don't have to be someone you're not. Just be yourself, and I'll be here for you."

Ayato looked at you, his eyes watering and threatening to spill. "I want to be here for you too. But...I don't know how. I feel like I'm drowning in my own thoughts."

You leaned in and kissed him, soft and gentle. "Let me help you," you said.

"Let me be your anchor in this stormy sea."

Ayato closed his eyes and let himself be swept away by your love. For the first time in a long time, he felt hope. Hope that he could grow up, that he could be the man you needed him to be.

As you held each other close, Ayato whispered in your ear. "I never grew up, but I want to. For you."

You smiled and kissed him again. "I'll help you every step of the way."

Ayato may have never quite grown up, but with you by his side, he knew that he could face anything.

xiao + “help me hold onto you”

wc: 483

Xiao had always been a solitary figure, preferring the quiet of the mountains to the hustle and bustle of the city. But there was someone who had captured his heart, someone who made him want to break free from his solitude and hold onto them tightly.

It was you.

You had come into his life like a ray of sunshine, brightening up the darkest corners of his soul. You had a way of making him laugh, of making him feel alive. And now, as you stood before him, tears streaming down your face, Xiao knew that he had to help you hold onto the one thing that mattered most: hope.

"Please, Xiao," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Help me hold onto you. Don't let me go."

Xiao's heart ached as he saw the pain etched on your face. He knew that you were going through a difficult time, that the weight of the world was crushing you. But he also knew that he couldn't let you give up.

He also knew, deep down, even if he truly loved you, he wouldn’t have the strength to let you go.

You were leaving him, going to a far nation… away from him.

It was heartbreaking, Xiao felt as if his world had started to crumble. He felt as if everything had started to shatter. More likely, his heart.

So, help him hold onto you, will you?

"I won't let you go," Xiao promised, his voice low and steady. "But you have to hold onto hope. You have to believe that things will get better."

You looked at him, your eyes filled with doubt. "How can I do that? Everything seems so hopeless right now."

“We’re separating, Xiao!”

Xiao took your hand, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. "Because you're not alone. You have me, and I'll be here for you no matter what. We'll face this together, and we'll come out stronger on the other side."

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "I’m sorry.."

He hugged you tight, burying his face in your shoulder as he rested in your warmth, solace found in your touch.

Xiao smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here for you, now and always."

You knew that life would throw its share of challenges at the both of you, but you also knew that as long as you had each other, you both could make it.

You always had been.

"Help me hold onto you," Xiao whispered, so quiet that only you were allowed to hear.

Allowed to hear his vulnerable side, his weak state, his submissive one, and his pleading one. He wishes he could’ve been better. Maybe if he did, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

Xiao knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure that you never let go.

wanderer + “who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay?”

wc: 911 (lmao)

Wanderer was known in Sumeru for his great tactics, but more likely because of his sharp tongue. A lot of children like him, adore him.

He’s pretty well known, but he knows that [Name] knows him more than anyone in the world of Teyvat.

He’s met a lot of people, got to know a lot, greeted many, but no one could compare to [Name].

Though, if he became his real self towards you, would you leave him or stay? Would you still compliment him, would you still cherish him, and most importantly,

would you still love him as before?

Wanderer knows that you love him, it’s obvious. With the way he teases you, flirts with you, your reactions say otherwise no matter how you deny it.

He thinks you won’t leave him, you call him such treasure. Gold that can’t be left behind.

But he thinks that maybe he’s the gold that can be sold instead.

The type of gold to keep and cherish for some time, to always keep buried in your heart, but there are some gold, who are loved and cherished, but always replaced.

You won’t replace him. Wanderer was too great to replace, was he not? You would never.

But the question was— would you stay?

And he’s too scared, and in fear to admit such a thing. He can’t just visit your abode and randomly ask what you feel about him, or if your ever going to leave him, or if your gonna think he’s still worth loving in every situation, or if—

His mind is just all if’s. Wanderer thinks that maybe you would stay, but maybe you wouldn’t.

So, when you two were out hiding in a random forest in Sumeru, He took a deep breath and prepared himself.

“Why are you getting all worked up for?” You asked, chuckling a bit as Wanderer scoffs.

He lets out a breathy sigh, and rests his back on a tree. “Hey,”

“Are you okay—“ “Will you stay?”

Your confused. Literally. No person can just randomly ask that. He’s weird, you think. Weird enough that made you fall inlove with him.

“..What?” You mutter under your breath, your heart beat increasing as Wanderer lowered his hat down, not wanting to see your face, more so he doesn’t want you to see the sad look on his face. He’s afraid you’ll call him cute or whatever.

“I mean.. would you stay? I know I’m a person not so leave-able, since I’m you know, great and all but-“ Wanderer rambles, which was unlike of him. Maybe he does want to show his ‘real’ self towards you after all.

The self he’s wanted to show you, but he’s the example of fear and bravery.

Yeah, he’s cocky, rude, sharp tongued, mean, awful, but there’s always a side where some people can show unexpectedly. They don’t even realize they show such a side.

He scoffs, putting his palm on top of his forehead. His face was not seen, only his hat. But you could see that look on his face, despite only hearing his pained voice. “Who could ever leave me, [Name]?”

“But who could stay…?” He whispered, his voice cracking.

Wanderer’s breath hitched, unexpectedly being honest. Maybe love can do such weird things to a person. He doesn’t want to believe, but there’s this side of him that just tells him to trust you. To show you a side that even he, himself, hasn’t even seen before.

“Why are you pushing me away, Wanderer?” You spoke with such a gentle tone to your voice, that made Wanderer shiver. He held his head high, looking back at you.

He sighs, not wanting to say what he’s about to say, but maybe he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of losing someone precious like you.”

Maybe it’s the past, the haunting trauma, the melody of his regret repeating all over on his head, maybe it’s that. The reason why he can’t reconnect to people like he used to. Maybe it’s because he turned his heart into stone because of how many people had deceived him.

You weren’t like them. You weren’t like any of the people he had met. You were better.

You were nothing like those people who tried to take advantage of him because of his state, who tried to mock him for being so vulnerable right now, but you didn’t. You hugged him tight, loving him fully.

It was as if you’ve crossed the boundaries in his life that needed a little push to be crossed. Maybe that’s why. All his head is thinking of are just “maybe’s” and “if’s”.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, smiling softly as his eyes widened a bit, then narrowing as he pouted, blush coating his cheeks as you laughed wholeheartedly.

“I love you, Wanderer.”

“I love you too, my idiot.”

You weren’t leaving, he was sure of that. But love taught him things that he didn’t know.

Love was not about staying, but leaving. It was about taking a chance, about following your heart, and about learning to let go.

Wanderer realized that he had to let go of the past and embrace the future. He had to learn to love and let go, to cherish the moments that he had and to let go of the ones that had passed.

Even if you pass, he’s sure.

He’s sure that he would always cherish you, forever, and a lifetime.

made by @seaadc and @seaadc only!

(there’s a favorite if u jus squint LOLL)

[ramayantika]

Since I am newly nineteen now, here are 18 things I learnt hehe

1. Sometimes life is shit but you got to hold on with all your blood, sweat and tears, with hopes still illuminating your eyes in the darkest night, because better days do come. My world did not end when I did not crack those entrance exams and saw the house be so disappointed with me. Another course and college chose me, and I found my calling and happiness.

2. Grinding is needed. Youth demands hardwork if you want to make it big, but listen fucking listen to your body and rest at times. Your dream life will never let you enjoy if you do not have the health for it. Exercise, be hydrated, eat and sleep well. As students, I understand it gets hard at times, but try maintaining a habit slowly. It pays well later.

3. It is okay to not know shit about what you want in life. If you know, amazing! If you do not, good, because life is going to surprise you with some real amazing things. You will find your story. Wait.

4. For young girls, for my younger self, you are amazing, smart, talented, wanted, admired and a beautiful human. You can be anything you want, and no matter what the world says about you, what your family says about you, you absolutely have the power to build and live the life you want for yourself. It's hard, but it can be done.

5. Just because you are naturally a quiet and reserved person, it doesn't mean you are boring, less confident and no fun. You value your energy and people. It's good. You are a good listener and a good observer. People need listeners too and your observation skills do actually help you socially when needed.

6. Just because you are extroverted, it doesn't mean you are loud, cringe and irresponsible. Heck the quiet ones like me need you all and of course we do need someone to keep the party and conversation interesting. But even then, you can absolutely be vulnerable and have someone to share your mind and heart too.

7. Follow your HOBBIES!!!! dancing, painting, singing, writing, sports etc whatever is your pick, keep doing it. You need them. You don't have to monetize it or be so skillful to make a job out of it. You can follow it because you love it and it makes you happy and not because you must make a career out of it. Life gets busy, and even difficult at times. Hobbies will help you take you mind off from difficult things. Do it for 15 mins or 30 or even an hour. But DO IT.

8. For young people, do NOT get into romantic relationships because everybody else is getting in to. Life doesn't comprise of romantic relationships. Learn to build and value friendships, relationships with classmates, older people (relatives, teachers, seniors) and with people near and around you.

9. Money is needed and money does help buy happiness. You get to watch your movies, buy your favourite pizza/momos/biryani, go to your fav cafe, buy books and art supplies, buy that lip gloss or that new shoes model with money. Paisa bhai sab kuch nahi hai yes but paisa bahut kuch hai.

10. Cherish little moments of peace and find gratitude for the things that you have. You are alive, you get to do art, play a sport, read that fanfic on the internet, afford eating at a good restaurant, afford an education etc. There is still so much you need but at least you get to have some good things in life. Some don't and have to struggle immensely for things which we have.

[tpwkwriter]

Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable and loving that about her and teasing her and recreating cute scenes from romance books with her

Head in a book

I wish I could say I was a bookworm but in fact the only things I read are on tumblr🥲

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of book tok😭fluffy as!!☁️

Pairing: Harry x quiet!y/n

——————————————————————————

Y/n appreciated a quiet life, the small moments were a huge thing to her, the smell of freshly baked bread, picking flowers, watching the stars n all.

So when her boyfriend is the most biggest popstar, surrounded by loud music, screaming fans, and flashy cameras, everyone thought the couple wouldn’t work out, oh how they were so wrong.

After loud music, flashy lights, the screams and chants of millions of fans, Harry learnt that quiet and peaceful moments were better shared with y/n, he didn’t just love her, he adored her and everything she did.

She was the quiet rain in the darkest of nights.

It was a common occasion that Harry would come home to y/n absolutely nose deep in a book on the sofa, he loved watching the way she would get totally immersed in the story and endorsed on the character’s behaviour and thinking process.

Well tonight was no different, the time neared 6:45pm and Harry was out of the studio relatively early, he walked into there shared home, before he could look around he could sense something wasn’t right, the lights were all off, normally y/n would have various candle scents lingering in the atmosphere and the sound of her playlist would be faintly heard in the background.

He toed off his shoes and released his belongings by the door (making a mental note to clean it up later)

And walked through to there shared living room, y/n was bundled on the sofa with a grey faux blanket covering her, her hoodies hood was covering her hair and her eyes looked red and defeated.

Alarm bells are immediately going off in Harry’s mind, and he’s quick to act.

“Hey you, what’s happening?” He asked gently asked, swiftly sitting down next to her, leaning back and gently tapping her arm enough to signal ‘come here’

“Harry? Didn’t even hear you come home” she said voice a little wobbly, she joined his side, lounging her legs across his lap and resting her head on his chest.

“S’okay, what happened my love?” He asked softly into her hair, allowing his hand to slowly trace gentle circles on her back.

“Well” she started

“You know the book i was close to finishing?” She sniffs.

Harry begins to slightly relax at the fact it may not be as serious as he anticipated.

“I do m’love” he smiled

“Well because, it wasn’t a good ending at all” she begins to tear up again and snuggle her head further into his chest.

He mainly chuckles out of relief that it wasn’t anything ‘real’ and ‘serious’ he continues to hold her and press kisses to her hairline.

“I’m sorry to hear that m’love, wanna speak about it?” He’d gently ask.

As she begins to tell him the tragedy of the protagonists death and the failing love story between characters, even if truthfully Harry had no idea, he loved listening and taking in what she had to say.

“It sounds like such a beautiful story though my love” he said, trying to amp the spirits up.

“Mhmm” shes hum against him, the rest of the night was filled with cuddles and a lazy dinner together.

——

It was a few weeks later and now y/n had got on to some new books, she was never without one.

One evening when y/n was sitting up reading in bed, and Harry was in there shared en suite getting ready for bed, y/n had an idea, that would send not only her but many girls around the world into a frenzy.

Before he finished up she sent up her phone discreetly on her beside table and began to work her magic.

“Harry!” She called

Lucky for her, timing was great, he emerged from the bathroom and was about to head out to the bed.

“Stay right there mister” she smirked

A confused smile crossed his face, at her instructions but he did as she said.

“Babe-?” He chuckled lowly.

“I’ve just been reading here” she said holding up her book

“And it says here: “with arms holding him up he leant against the doorframe admiring the girl in-front of him” “ she recites from the paper.

Rolling his eyes already knowing what she was gonna request.

“So if you could please, show me your best doorframe lean, I’d be very happy” she smiled as she put the book in her lap and leaned back against the headboard.

His famous smirk flashes at the girl

“Y’want me, to lean against the doorframe?” He chuckles.

“Basically, but like- in a really romantic and heroic way, y’know” she giggles.

Y/n can practically see Harry think of how he’s gonna do this.

“M’kay, I need you to c’mere then” he calmly requests.

“Harry, just do it!!” She blushes, she’s also thinking of how thankful she is for the 5 minute feature on TikTok!

“Will, just come here” he laughs, he walks over and takes both of her hands and guides her to the place he wants which is right by the doorframe but far enough.

When satisfied with were the both at, harrys left arm lifts up and due to his height sits just above the top door frame, already y/n found her self flustered, and with his right hand he held her face and pulled her in for a sweet kiss on her lips, while still holding the “doorframe leaning position”

She pulls away flustered and blushed up,

“You did not just do that” she laughs as she stares at him.

“No Harry, I know the fuck you did not do that” she states, her eyes still wide and her mouth curling up into a big smile.

The smirk of satisfaction crawled up on his face as he managed to to fluster up his girl, despite nearly 5 years of being together.

Remembering the iPhone camera pointing in there direction, she quickly turned on her heels to stop it, at the realisation of she’s been filming them hits Harry and it’s now his time to go red.

“You cheeky thing” he says going up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kept his chin on her shoulder as they watched the video they just made together, sharing laughs and smiles.

“Fuck sake” he smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple and getting into his side of the bed.

She presses post and couldn’t wait to see what everyone had to say tomorrow, she joined in the bed next to him.

“Safe to say girls are gonna be having a field day with that one” she laughs.

“Where did you learn that stunt from anyway?” She giggled leaning in to his side.

“Well baby” he started.

“When your girlfriend is obsessed with books and romance novels you do learn a few tricks along the way, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t read a few of your stuff” he nonchalantly pointed out.

Her eyes light up again.

“Really? You have?” She excitedly asked

“Mmmhmm, I got say y’got good taste” he shrugs.

“If you want recommendations just say”

——————————————————————————

[rxmqnova]

Hi, do you mind doing a werewolf x wanda

When yn was turned in to a wolf because of a spell and found some bad people that they tortured her, so when the avengers found her, she was very scared, Wanda learnt more about magic and she can break the spell, but that takes a price, she wouldn't be a human, only a werewolf, so that's what she did, but everytime she turns in a wolf, she became more vulnerable, always whining and didn't want to be near people, only with Wanda and sometimes Nat too. When Yn is a wolf she is stuck with Wanda, when she is on a mission, she is with Nat, she is safe with them.

The spell

Y/N: 19 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "You stupid little piece of shit! When I tell bite, you bite! What's so hard on that?!" This big gorilla looking man yells, kicking the young wolf into her stomach before closing the door of the cell.

There's just a weak little whimper heard before the wolf slowly makes her way to the furthest and darkest corner of the cell, laying down to have at least a few seconds of peace.

It really only takes a few seconds until the wolf is back on her feet, scared for her life when she's hearing all of the explosions from outside.

The Avengers only just arrived to take this horrible place down. Everyone is fighting outside now, though Wanda is trying to make her way inside and thanks to her powers she makes it.

Walking all over the place, she spots the cell with the scared wolf that's hiding in the dark corner.

"Oh my god" Wanda whispers to herself, feeling how scared the poor creature is thanks to her powers.

It's never happened before that she could sense an animal's emotion or hear its thoughts. Until now…

"Hey, it'll be okay. I'll get you out of here" Wanda says softly, kneeling down as an attempt to show the wolf she's not an enemy. "Do you have a name?"

The wolf tilts her head, thinking whether or not should she trust this stranger. After thinking for a few seconds, she decides that nothing could be worse than this place and decides to trust the witch.

"Y/N… that's a really nice name. I'm Wanda… How is it possible that I can hear your thoughts?" Wanda mumbles, more to herself, but she's surprised when Y/N answers.

"Wait. Wait. You were a human? But how… a witch? Oh my god" Wanda gasps quietly at Y/N's confession that she used to be a human until she made a mistake and some witch cursed her to stay wolf forever. Wanda gasps even more when Natasha tells her the place will go down in a few minutes over the earpiece. "I will let you out now, okay? I'll lead you out and get you to a safe place. This place will go down soon" The witch explains, opening the door of the cell and hoping the story Y/N just told her is true and the animal won't attack her now.

The wolf slowly walks out of the cell, trying hard not to feel the pain in her stomach from the man's kick earlier. Wanda starts walking out of the base, Y/N following her as fast as she can until both are safe in the quinjet.

"Hm… Wanda, where did you take the dog?" Tony asks, watching Y/N in confusion while Wanda's running her fingers though the fluffy fur.

"This is Y/N and she's a wolf, not a dog. They kept her in a cell down there and she's clearly injured" Wanda sighs before giving her new friend a smile. "One of those guys hurt her, we need to get someone to check her up" She informs, receiving a nod from Bruce.

Thanks to his connections, Bruce gets a vet to come to the compound and check Y/N up. Well, but until they actually arrive to the compound, Y/N just stays near Wanda, resting her head on the witch's lap as Wanda keeps running her fingers through Y/N's fur.

As soon as they arrive to the compound, Wanda doesn't waste a moment and follows Bruce into the lab as the vet is already waiting there, Y/N following righ behind Wanda.

"I'll be here with you all the time, you have nothing to worry about" Wanda assures the nervous wolf.

———

A few weeks has passed since then. Y/N warmed up to everyone a bit, but she still prefers to stay near Wanda all the time… sometimes Natasha if she has to or just feels like it.

Wanda decided to help the young girl cursed into a wolf and has been searching through every book she got from Strange for something that could break the spell.

"Y/N! I have it!" Wanda squeals happily, clapping her hands.

Y/N shoots her head up from the ground where she's been laying, immediately making her way over to Wanda.

"I have it… though it won't take everything back. I need you to think about it, yeah?… The spell won't make you a human again… but a werewolf" Wanda starts. "I'm not sure how will the werewolf thing work, so I need you to think about it and tell me if you're willing to risk it" She tells her friend.

It only takes a few seconds for Y/N until she nods her head, telling Wanda she wants to risk it. If there's a chance she could be a human, at least for a certain time, she's willing to risk it.

"Are you sure?" Wanda asks to make sure, getting the same response as before.

———

It took a few hours until Wanda performed the spell correctly, turning the wolf into a human form.

"Oh my god" Y/N whispers, her eyes filled with tears when she sees a human arms and legs. "Thank you so much" She bursts into tears immediately, making Wanda let out a sigh of relief as she covers the girl with a blanket.

"You're welcome. I'm glad it worked" The witch smiles warmly on which Y/N immediately pulls her in for a tight hug, thanking her a few more times.

After Y/N takes a long wanted shower, Wanda borrows her some of her clothes and the two head to the living room where everyone is.

"Guys… this is Y/N, the wolf that's been running around here" Wanda smiles, nudging Y/N's shoulder playfully.

"Hi" The girl says shyly, giving the Avengers a small wave.

"Oh my god, did you actually break the spell?" Natasha asks first, standing up and walking to the pair. "I'm happy to finally meet you, Y/N" She says with a warm smile, making the girl relax a bit.

"I'm happy to officially meet you too, Natasha" Y/N smiles, shyly wrapping her arms around Natasha and giving her a quick hug, surprising Natasha a bit, but then she chuckles and returns the hug.

"Y/N still isn't a human, she's a werewolf now… whatever that means. We need to find out" Wanda explains, giving Y/N a smile which the girl returns.

———

Another few days passed and Y/N is now a bit more comfortable with everyone, though she still preffers to stay with Wanda… or Natasha if necessary.

Wanda and her even figured out the whole werewolf thing. There was a full moon a few days ago which really helped.

"Wanda, do you really have to go?" Y/N asks with a sigh, flopping down on Wanda's bed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N. I really have to. I'll be back in a few days" Wanda smiles softly, sitting down next to Y/N and giving her a hug. The two have become really close over the past days. "Natasha's going to be with you the entire time, you have nothing to worry about. I'll be back before you know it" She tries to calm down the younger girl, rubbing her back as Y/N cuddles up to her.

"I know it's just… it feels weird when you're not here" Y/N sighs, avoiding eye-contact with the older girl.

"It's just a few days, honey. When I'm back we'll do some awesome movie night, yeah?" Wanda suggests, receiving a smile and a nod from the girl. "I really have to go now. I'll see you in few days" She says, giving Y/N one last hug before disappearing.

Y/N stays in Wanda's room for a few seconds and then leaves, turning into a wolf as soon as she closes the door of Wanda's room. She found herself doing that everytime she feels off for some reason.

She slowly walks to the living room, hoping Natasha would be there to give her some cuddles. Luckily for Y/N, Natasha's on the couch, watching some movie with the others, so Y/N just jumps up on the couch and rests her head on Natasha's lap.

"What's up, Y/N/N?" Natasha asks the upset wolf, immediately placing her hand on Y/N's head and running her fingures through the fur. "Wanda left for a mission already, didn't she?"

Y/N only lets out a quiet whimper in response, turning her head a little bit, so she could just watch whatever movie the Avengers are watching, hoping it would take her mind off of the fact how much she misses Wanda already. This will definitely be the longest few days in Y/N's life…

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

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that I'm working on every single request I've gotten so far <33 Might as well post two in one day if I finish them earlier <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[evolnoomym]

The Night We Met🌠/Pt.2

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt. 1 🌌 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You return to Texas after being gone for 5 months.

Rating: 18+ content mdni!!!!(there’s nothing explicit, still I want the minors to stay away.)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pregnancy, female reader, reader has no name only a nickname, size difference, loss of a loved one, grief, food and eating are mentioned, age gap,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: The part 2 some of you wanted, hopefully you’ll like it 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that(and me being high). I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 🌠🫶🏻

+Bonus at the end 🥰

Song’s I listened to while writing:

To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra, Patrick Watson

Twins - Gem Club

Space Song - Beach House

Silver Soul - Beach House

Santa Monica Dream - Angus & Julia Stone

Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit

Big Jet Plane - Angus & Julia Stone

you. - Oscar Lang

Home - Catie Turner

I would - Torri Weidinger

Hearing - Sleeping At Last

My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

I miss you, I’m sorry - Gracie Abrams

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

* 5 months later *

You haven’t been in this place ever since leaving all those months ago. So much has changed for you. The sickening feeling you used to get when entering didn’t seem to return once you stepped onto the property. Now as you sit across from him, it does not feel as if you’re being torn apart by each second you spend here, perhaps it’s also because you have a little helper to make this less painful. 

His grave looks just like you remember and once you sat down you noticed that somebody must’ve taken care of it in your absence. Your favorite flowers are placed on top- blue chrysanthemums. 

It’s a beautiful warm spring day, birds chirping in the distance, sunshine warming up your skin, fresh breeze blowing through your hair and finally more color being added to the scenery. 

You smile softly because it’s a good day and you’re happy to see him. 

And as some sort of Déjà vu, a father comes walking down the dirt path with his daughter and the little girl is cheerfully giggling while taking in all the beautiful flowers adorning the graves. 

When the girl reaches the blue chrysanthemums she lets out a stunned gasp, it seems like she might have never seen those flowers in her life before. 

When her dad spots you he immediately starts apologizing profusely for his daughter’s behavior but you let him know that it’s more than welcome and you think to yourself how the little girl reminds you of the past. 

When they are out of sight you start laughing and then say ��You Funny old men, sending me a sign aren’t you? Thank you Papa.” He’s still here, always with you and he was even when you were so far away. 

(Flashback beginning )

The first few weeks were rough for you, so incredibly far away from what was supposed to be home and with Joel’s distraught face burned into your memory. 

Luckily Sunny was there to catch you in the darkest moments, if it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t have made it. 

When you called her out of sheer desperation and told her you’d need to be somewhere far away, Sweet Sunny, without thinking about it, offered to take you in. 

The flight over there was incredibly stressful for you but seeing Sunny’s face once she picked you up from the airport made it all worth it. 

She had to treat you like a wounded animal, cooking your favorite meals, taking you for walks around the pastures, massages when the back pain flared up again and when nothing helped just sitting with you through the agony. 

Sunny is your childhood Bestfriend, you were born on the same day just 4 years apart, you have the same interests and the same dislikes. Your dad always called you Sunny and Moon. Two Inseparable forces. 

The time with Sunny and the change of scenery was healing. You went to yoga with her, took trips to Costco, she took you to the local aquarium, the butterfly garden and to the beach.  

When the time came to fly back home you were sad but Sunny promised to visit once it’s time. 

(Flashback over)

It was a week ago that your plane touched down in Texas, it felt so strange being back in the town you so hastily left. 

Once you landed Joel was all you could think about, is he okay, does he look different, did he move, did he find someone new or is he still waiting for you?

You’ve seen the countless messages he sent you over the months, yet you couldn’t find the courage to answer him you would’ve felt like a liar. You felt terrible for not holding up your end of the bargain.

After sleeping in the motel for a week you finally, especially after talking to your Dad, feel empowered enough to go see Joel again. 

You had stopped once on the drive towards Joel’s house, due to raging nausea, you are incredibly nervous sitting in the parked car in front of his home. 

It still looks exactly the same as when you disappeared, nothing changed about it. 

It takes a few more minutes before you get out of the car. You have to take a couple deep breaths and wipe your shaking sweaty palms off on your long black stretchy skirt that you decided to wear combined a black ribbed tank top. 

The outfit looks good and is the most comfortable for you in this state.

Your knees are weak on the steps up to the house, the fluttering in your belly gets continuously worse the closer you get to the front door and when you knock on the door you’re close to passing out. 

The seconds you have to wait feel like hours. In reality it’s only seconds and when the door opens time seems to stand still, there he is Joel Miller in all his glory. 

His eyes scan your face in frantic disbelief and his mouth makes him look like a fish fresh outta water. 

You try to take control of the situation “H…hi Joel.” It’s simple but you’re just as stunned. 

You can see his eyes turn glassy “No Joel, no tears come on, you gonna make me cry too.” You try to say it in a cheerful way but the words end in a quiet whisper. 

“Y…you- you’re back? Am I….dreamin?” He stammers clearly unconvinced. You nod gently and reach with your hand for his face, when your warm soft palm touches his scruffy cheek his eyes fall shut and the tears start rolling down his cheeks. 

His lips are trembling, as if your touch hurts him. “Joel, I…I’m so sorry.” At that he opens his eyes again and to your surprise he does not look mad, though he’d have all right to be. 

With his eyes still locked onto your face he asks “How…how long have ya been back?”

You turn away slightly and gesture behind you towards the car parked in front of the driveway. “I've been back for about a week, sleeping in that ranch motel and I was just at Dad’s grave when I thought about coming here.” When you turn back to face him his eyes are no longer on your face, but instead somewhere else. 

Joel’s eyes are stuck on your midsection. 

Oh yeah, the bump, from the front it’s not that noticeable but as soon as you turn boom there it is the unmistakable swell. 

That’s what scared you the most, how would he react to the pregnancy. 

“Y…you- you’re pregnant? How…I mean ya didn’t say anythin bout that back then?” He questions in almost trance.

“Maybe we should go inside to talk, hmm? My feet kinda hurt.” You laugh which pulls him out of his frozen state.

“Jeez of course, come in let’s sit down Moon.” He gestures to come into the house you used to share and once you cross the threshold the familiar smell engulfs you, a mix of vanilla and sandalwood.

Everything mostly still looks the same, once you reach the living room you immediately note that all the pictures are still exactly where they always hung on the wall. And when you look at the dining table, the one you sat at that night it’s still the same but what’s placed on top makes your breath hitch. 

Blue Chrysanthemums, the same as on his grave. 

When you turn you realize Joel’s been watching you “Did you put the flowers on his grave?” 

“Yeah, that was me” while he nervously scratches his neck “I hope ya liked them.”

You huff “Joel I loved them they are my favorite you know that. So you've been going to his grave?”

He hesitates for a moment but then responds “Every week since ya left Moon. Just spend a bit talkin to the ol’ men. Ya know he was my Bestfriend.” 

You nod “I’m sorry you couldn’t grieve cuz you had to take care of me. I know you were close and Joel-“ you reach for his face again, gently patting his cheek “- you meant soooo much to him, you know how I told you he’d basically chew my ear off telling me all about his super cool boss every night.” You smile sweetly at him trying to soothe the pain he must’ve felt at losing your father, his Bestfriend and then ultimately you as well.

The two of you sit down on the couch, which is now possible unlike 5 months ago when just looking at it made you sick, Joel sits down with a respectable distance from you. 

“So….you must have a million questions, shot?” You encourage him. “How far along, are ya?” 

“25 weeks to be specific, so only three more weeks and I’m officially 7 months.” You answer with a smile. 

A moment later “So ya were pregnant when you left, did ya know or..?” He questions.

“No, I didn’t know when I left. I didn’t think it would take at the first try. I chalked the whole throwing up thing up to the grief, you know?” 

He nods “Yeah, I get what ya mean…and how did you figure it out?”

“I didn’t. Sunny did, she thought something was off and had to drag me to the doctor. Did some tests and well I was 8 weeks already.” 

(Flashback beginning )

Sunny plopped down beside you on the couch 

“Ok we need to talk this is not normal anymore Moon.” 

You stared at her in question “ Why what’s wrong?” 

“Seriously.?? Let’s look at the facts: your periods have been missing for almost 3 months, you puke allllll the time, you eat the weirdest food combinations I’ve ever seen and….no offense but your tits have blown up, look at them.” As she points at your chest.

“Ok fuck you Sunny if you like looking at my tits you could’ve just told me and whats with my eating habits??”

“Baby you literally dipped pickles in Orange Sorbet for breakfast…you don’t see anything wrong with that, huh?” She laughs 

“Well I…I just really craved that”

“No baby, the little Miller fetus inside you craved that.” 

“Okkkkk then let’s go to the doctors office to see if you are correct or just imagining things.” As you flip her off while laughing. 

When the little white blob showed up on the screen, Sunny started yelling, of course she had to be right.

(Flashback over)

“Ya did all of it alone? I’m sorry Moon Girl.”

“Oh no, Sunny was there for each visit and she documented the whole process so you could have a chance at sorta having those memories too. You’re gonna be a Daddy Joel Miller” 

Tears well up in his eyes again “C…can I, ya know..?” While his eyes go to your belly.

You understand what he wants “Of course Joel, though you might not feel a whole lot…I think she’s asleep, which I can’t blame her for after the stressful ride over here.” You laugh gently. 

Joel’s gasp makes you look up 

“Y-y-yo…you said “she” it’s a girl, we’re having a little babygirl?” The tears slip down his cheeks again but this time he’s beaming with happiness as it happens. 

You take his outstretched shaking hand and place it on the top of your stomach. 

“Yeah a little Moon Babygirl, now imagine how Sunny freaked out when we got told, some of her cheerful screaming is probably caught in the video she took.” 

Joel’s crying intensifies so you motion for him to get closer and when his thigh presses against yours you pull him in for a side hug. His unoccupied arm slides around your lower back, hand resting on your hip, while his face slots right into your neck. 

“Sorry Baby I…I’m a mess.” He mumbles against the side of your neck.

“Shhh Joel, it’s ok, I got you. I got you Joel.” while stroking the back of his head. You give him the time to let it all out. 

Suddenly he perks up and pulls out your arms. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask 

“I…I think she kicked me, our baby kicked me..” he whispers. 

“Guess she knows it’s her Daddy needing some comfort, she’s done it for me too.” 

“How.?” 

“Whenever I couldn’t bare it anymore, she started kicking me as a distraction.” You continue “I believe she’s a gift from him, that sounds weird..” Joel just shakes his head no… “a purpose, something to keep going for you know?” 

“I know what ya mean Baby.” 

“Not that you were not enough but I..I - I just..” 

“It’s alrigh darlin, I understand you.” 

He gets up out of nowhere “I got something for ya, jus wait a minute sweetheart.”

As he heads up the stairs. 

When he comes back down he orders “Close ya eyes Moon.” 

“What, why?”

“Come on jus do it, trust me.”

You can feel him somewhere in front of you but you don’t know where exactly. 

“Open up.”

And there he is on his knees holding a small box up to you in it a beautiful engagement ring but instead of a normal shaped diamond it’s a moon shaped one. As if he had it made specifically for you.

You are completely stunned by the way he just wiped it out. 

J…j- Joel I..I don’t know what to say.” 

He jus shakes his head and looks at you softly “Moon ya don’t have to say anythin, I jus wanted you to have it.” 

You’re in sheer disbelief and only shake your head frantically. 

“m’ sorry that was too much I..I-“ but you cut him off

“Shut up I just needed a minute to process, yes Joel, yes I do.” You smile 

“W..what’d ya mean?” 

“Yes I want to Marry you Joel, not immediately but someday, ok? Put it on me.” You say as you hold out your hand 

Now Joel’s the one stunned but after collecting  himself he does just as you told him, he slides it on your left Ringfinger.

Once he’s done it you get up to admire the ring in the sunlight, you walk out onto the porch and hold your hand up to the Sun. 

You can hear his heavy steps coming up to you from behind, then you feel his muscular arms slide around your middle, his hands come to rest on the bump and his chin on your shoulder. 

You turn in his hold and place your palms on his broad chest. “I have to explain so much about why I left you and..and-“ 

This time he cut you off “I don’t care bout that right now, m’ jus happy to have ya back Moon. Can I kiss ya?” 

“Of course you can kiss me Joel.” That’s all the encouragement he needs before pressing his lips against yours and then again and again.

Suddenly he ask’s you something you did not expect “Ya got a name for Her in mind?” 

You pretend to think about the answer but then reply with confidence “I really like the name Matilda. What do you think of that?” 

Joel smiles amused “That’s a real pretty name for our Moon baby, darlin.“

You feel more content than ever before and you can feel him watching from above being happy as well to see you back in Joel’s arms. 

It’s them 🌌🌠:

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @studioghibelli @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @almostfoxglove @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @iamasaddie @the-mandawhor1an @joelalorian @ace-turned-confused @clawdee @penvisions @rivnedell (honestly I’m pretty randomly tagging sorry) 🌠

[plutoccult]

ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE

pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader

description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.

word count: 1.7k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3

you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.

it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.

he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?

you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.

you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.

you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.

so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.

he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.

eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.

“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.

“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.

“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.

“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”

he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.

“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”

eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.

you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”

“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”

“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”

“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.

“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”

huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.

“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?

“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.

“why?” you question him.

“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.

“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.

“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”

you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”

“do you want to?” eren asked you.

as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”

“you sure?”

“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”

“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.

“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.

“no, go for it.”

“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.

“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.

“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.

“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”

“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”

and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.

it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3