#i hate that staying alive doing nothing is so exhausting for me and i hate that i can't really do anything for myself to make it suck less

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

[readymades2002]

sorry for being quiet on here i’ve been having no exaggeration the worst mental health moment of my life on top of being quite busy+unable to work because of aforementioned health moment and i may be about to make it much worse for myself. anyway i went for a walk yesterday to a boutique nearby to roleplay someone who has money+looks nice in things and not only was everything i tried on too expensive for my blood but the only thing that fit me was this very comfortable dress that i would have no reason to wear literally ever because i don’t wear dresses around people. because i know it will change the way they perceive my gender even though it doesnt for me. so i cant. well anyway o<<

[bewby]

.

[i23kazu]

JUST GO TO SLEEP ALREADY!

characters. neuvillette & wriothesley x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. preparing for my new school term............ thoughts n prayers peace n love | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

neuvillette, who watches you almost work yourself to the brink of tears because of your exams...

he doesn't... exactly know how to react. should he leave you alone? should he ask you to go to bed? was this even normal, in the first place?

after watching the circles under your eyes get more and more defined, he makes up his mind.

"my dear, please, for your own health's sake... go to sleep. i promise that things will be better for you when you wake up refreshed."

but this won't do! your paper needs to be turned in tomorrow night, and you've barely written the first 1000 words. it's not alright.

you want to cry.

neuvillette notices it, though. he sits down next to you, not saying a word.

"i'm stressed, neuvillette." you mumble, looking down at your laptop.

"i know that. but i can assure you that you're not going to get anything done when you're in such a state. i hate to see your sunshine get dulled, my dove – i promise, that when we wake up, i'll work with you." he smiles so sweetly, you want to burst into tears right then and there.

okay, maybe you did burst into tears right then and there.

he gathers you in his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb. his voice is sweet and compassionate, his words contrasting his being – "i don't know what to say." turns into something that was exactly what you needed.

for a person who doesn't understand the complexity of human emotions and how they work ... neuvillette cares for you in a way that's wonderful.

"alright, alright, i'll go to bed. you promise you'll work with me tomorrow?" you sleepily whine, rubbing the remnants of your tears away from your eyes and closing your laptop.

"i promise, my dear."

wriothesley, who stares at you staring at your laptop. he's convinced that you haven't moved from that position in... maybe an hour?

were you even alive at this point?

no

"can you please just stop working and get to bed already?" wriothesley sighs.

"but i can't! it's due tomorrow. and i'm literally, like, about halfway through." you rub your eyes.

wriothesley wants to roll his eyes goodnaturedly at you. but he doesn't. he loves you too much for that, especially when you're too exhausted to comprehend anything else.

"alright, fine. but i'll stay here with you. would you like tea?" he runs his fingers through his hair, getting up from his position.

wriothesley doesn't wait for you to say anything – he knows what you want. he breaks out the selection of teas he kept in his office, going through each one to see which had caffeine and which doesn't.

he eventually returns to your working area, a pot of tea in one hand and two cups precariously stacked on top of one another. it's steaming hot, and he sets it down gently.

it's quiet and peaceful. there's nothing but the low hum of wriothesley humming a calming tune, and the sound of you typing away.

the tea doesn't seem to be working, though? your eyes grow heavier and your head seems to find its place on his shoulder. you swear, there's a soft hint of a smile on wriothesley's face.

his smile seems almost like a smirk.

and then it clicks.

"you planned this all along." you pout, rubbing your eyes tiredly. the tea that was chosen wasn't caffeinated, and his sweet humming... it was the perfect mix to lull you to sleep.

"of course i did. go to sleep, (y/n)." he chuckles, saving your essay and closing your laptop for you.

okay, maybe sleep did sound good ... especially if he carried you back to bed later.

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reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, please consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

Walking through King's Landing is exhausting. Your life as a bastard has not been easy, especially with the struggle for the Iron Throne. Unsure of which direction to take, you have tried to be invisible to the Targaryens while working in a brothel to survive. This morning, you were summoned by a royal messenger on behalf of King Aegon II. You thought it was a joke, but soon realized you really had to go to the Red Keep. You are taken to whoever summoned you like a little mouse sneaking through the sewers until you reach the surface. Perhaps they don't want to publicize that a prostitute is being brought in for a private conversation with the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

"I heard that my presence here had been requested. But I didn't imagine I would be summoned by Prince Aemond," you say as you enter the room indicated by the messenger and come face to face with Aemond One-Eye. He looks a bit more intimidating in person, but in a way, it's not a bad kind of intimidating. Just surprising.

"Ao kostagon enter, bastard." Prince Aemond commands with a certain skill. But you are somewhat worried that he might know you are a Targaryen bastard. So pretending to be oblivious seems to be the wisest course of action for now.

"This is a lovely place. An extremely enchanting castle. However, if you summoned me here for a conversation in another language, I will be a nuisance to Your Highness. Since your request for my presence proves ineffective, perhaps I should leave immediately," you say, trying not to show any hint of fear. You are a prostitute, accustomed to pretending all sorts of things. As you hesitantly move toward the exit of the room, where you are alone with the Prince, he doesn't seem to fall for your ruse. He throws a dagger in your direction, which grazes the corner of your cheek before embedding itself in the door, which is closed.

"Do you intend to waste our time here? I know you speak High Valyrian, and honestly, I’m hating your attempt to deceive me, gundjabo." He speaks while watching you turn, somewhat irritated by his actions. However, the One-Eyed Prince seems very proud of his deed. He is speaking in High Valyrian to you, probably to test you, but you feel that if you do not meet his expectations, the dagger will find its final mark and you will die.

"If you know that I can speak and understand what you are saying in High Valyrian, Your Highness, tell me, what use would a prostitute be to you? Do you, by any chance, have some secret desire in your chambers that requires a different language?" You might lose your tongue for speaking this way to the Prince Regent, but anger got the better of your temper, causing you to suggest that he brought you to the Red Keep to exchange heated vows in High Valyrian, which is nothing but folly.

"Your mouth would be much better sealed forever. But I need you for a mission, so for once, be less of a deceitful prostitute and serve your King," Prince Aemond says as he moves across the room, seemingly trying to reach you. You, however, despite your nerves, manage to grasp the dagger embedded in the door. Now, he stands just a few steps away from you, while you hold the dagger that could have gravely wounded you.

"I think this is yours, Your Highness." Your eyes meet the Prince's gaze. One eye reveals a hint of surprise, perhaps even pride, confirming that you can speak High Valyrian. The other eye, covered forever, conceals something deeper—perhaps resentment, perhaps fear. He approaches slowly, as if analyzing your behavior; likely wary of being harmed. But swiftly, his hand moves over yours, pulling the dagger from your grip and into his own.

"Follow me," is all he says as he sheathes the dagger somewhere in his attire and opens the door. You don’t fully understand his intent, but you know you don’t want to provoke Prince Aemond's wrath. At least not in this way. You follow him quickly, while the Prince seems to be almost racing toward one of the castle’s exits. He mounts a horse with enviable precision. You watch him, still unsure of your role in his sudden departure from the castle. He adjusts his long hair and then extends a hand toward you. You stare at him for three seconds before hearing him grunt in your direction. Seemingly as impatient as possible, he nearly falls off the horse while trying to grasp your arm, but he manages to hold onto it after the first attempt—holding your arm, not falling off the horse.

"Where are we going, Your Highness?" you ask, feeling your hair whip in the wind, as you notice a few people—probably servants of King Aegon II—passing by as if you’re inconsequential. Another grunt from Prince Aemond makes it clear that if you don’t get on the horse, you might be risking your well-being.

"I intend to test you before revealing your purpose. Now I suggest you come with me, or I’ll be forced to find another bastard to replace you and order your death." Prince Aemond seems astonished by your reluctance, forcing you to follow his commands. But really, there’s no other option. You leap toward him, being propelled onto the back of his horse. He begins to gallop with astonishing speed, so fast that you’re compelled to wrap your arms around his waist. He gives a slight turn of his head, looking in your direction, which startles you and almost makes you fall off the horse. However, this seems to amuse Prince Aemond. Before you can react, it seems you’re arriving at a location. A place certainly surrounded by nature, which gives you a comforting feeling despite the unknown. That is, of course, until you notice a massive dragon ahead. He brought you here to become dragon food.

"As flattered as I am by the importance you place on feeding your dragon well, I must say that a prostitute who speaks High Valyrian will not be any more special than any other meal given to your dragon," you say as you dismount the horse, struggling a bit. Prince Aemond is too absorbed in admiring his dragon to notice your struggle to get off the horse.

"Vhagar is a female dragon. And keep your mouth shut for a moment. You’ll soon understand your purpose here," Prince Aemond says, drawing closer to Vhagar. She, with her head lowered, lifts it from amidst some branches and foliage to see who is approaching.

"She is quite impressive. But I don’t understand why I was brought here, Prince Aemond. Is there a reason I need to meet your dragon?" you say as you follow the Prince toward the dragon. Vhagar emits a somewhat shrill noise, making you stop for a moment to look at her.

"I’ve heard that my sister plans to raise an army of bastards. I thought I might at least try to have one bastard on my side. There is a dragon, which has been confirmed to be available to be claimed. I want you to claim it for me and fight alongside your King." Prince Aemond speaks with vigor, as if discussing a great triumph that is to come. You look at him reluctantly, struggling to accept such an absurd proposal.

"You brought me here to force me to interact with your dragon. So if I don’t pass this test, I’ll be eliminated one way or another," you say, looking at Prince Aemond with some anger. He remains indifferent to whether you live or die. He just wants to ensure that he isn’t wasting his time chasing an illusion.

"I'm glad you're not as stupid as you seem. Now, stop wasting our time and go on," he says, as impatient as ever, stopping midway between you and Vhagar. You let out a nervous laugh, not quite believing that this is how you're going to meet your end.

"Likyri, ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon." You speak with a certain precision as you approach Vhagar. It’s not as if your job is to claim her. But if she accepts you, you might be able to prove useful to the Prince. And if you’re useful to him, you’ll be useful to the King. You move your hand forward to signal Vhagar that you are there. You are a nobody to her, but you appear alongside her rider. You look into her eyes, trying to stay steady as the dragon raises part of her body in your direction. She seems to be still assessing who or what you are.

"Gīda, Vhagar. Ao ȳdra daor jorrāelagon naejot zūgagon nyke." You try to calm her, speaking in High Valyrian or at least the most you’ve learned. You’re somewhat terrified when you notice that your hand is on Vhagar. It seems she has allowed you to touch her, perhaps mistaking you for a previous rider. The reasons for the dragon allowing your touch may not be particularly relevant. What matters is that now you’re at risk of becoming dragon food, as Prince Aemond certainly seems very enthusiastic about the fact that you’ve touched, and are still touching, his dragon.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 33

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

pt 32

pt 34

warnings: spoilers for the chimera ant arc, violence

A/N: I was going to stop posting Fixer Upper here, but I wanted to just experiment and see if it will do well. If not it’s going to stay on AO3, so COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LOVE THIS SERIES!

taglist: @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @sweetstraberrybear @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah

‼️please have your age in bio and make sure you can be mentioned/tagged before asking to be in the taglist‼️

(Name) collapsed from exhaustion as the timer hit zero. She had finally managed to maintain ren for three hours, her body at its limit.

“Alright, you can go rest now. Once you’ve slept for a few hours, come back and do it again.”

She nodded, barely able to pick herself up and shuffle to her room. It was dark out, the boys had already left to challenge knuckle, and she was glad Bisky understood her limits.

If (Name) was forced to go fight knuckle after maintaining ren for that long, she would pass out before reaching the park.

‘Ugh…’

Lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, (Name) ate, wincing at the temperature. It wasn’t hot enough to burn her mouth, but warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Bisky might be a bit less hard on her, but the training was still excruciating, and sometimes she just wanted to give up. When (Name) thought about quitting, the image of Kite’s severed arm flying through the air appeared in her mind, strengthening her resolve.

‘We have to save him… if… he’s still alive, that is.’

Taking another bite, she peered outside the window, staring at the full moon. Part of her wondered just exactly how she wandered up here, training until she nearly passed out and only getting a few hours of sleep between sessions.

Maybe if her parents had been better, if she hadn’t taken the Hunter exam, or maybe if Kurapika had chosen her instead of his revenge, she wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

She paused, shaking her head. ‘That’s selfish… why would I think something like that? Kurapika’s revenge is important to him… I just… wasn’t enough to try and balance friendship and his responsibilities to his clan…’

Her heart hurt, especially when she thought about him abandoning her so easily, as if the time they spent together meant nothing to him. All this time she had been making excuses, trying to tell herself that it was just how life was, but while she was exhausted and frustrated, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of hatred in her heart for him leaving her.

(Name) loved him dearly, saw him as her dearest friend and someone she wanted to be with one day… it made her upset to imagine him seeing her as nothing but someone to pass time with. Maybe that was all she had been, someone that would comfort him and be a shoudler to cry on until he didn’t need it anymore.

Until his heart hardened enough to where comfort wasn’t necessary.

(Name) played with her hair, plopping down on her bed after quickly washing her face and doing her night time routine.

‘I better sleep, Bisky won’t let me rest anymore than a few hours…’

She didn’t want to go to sleep feeling hateful, so (Name) closed her eyes and imagined him holding her close, kissing her head when she thought she was asleep.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy, her cheeks growing hot. One day, she wanted to get that Kurapika back.

Her Pika, not the Kurapika he had become.

——————

(Name) woke up when the sun barely began to peek through the window, shielding her eyes from the light. She then raised both of her arms to shield herself when she was hit again with a pillow, the real reason she had woken up.

“Get up, (Name). Gon and I are going to sleep, but Bisky wants you to go train.”

She whined softly, opening her eyes to see Killua hovering over her, holding a pillow and ready to strike again.

“Killua..? What time is-“

He brought down the pillow again, making her yelp. “H-hey, stop that, I’m up, I’m up!”

As she sat up, Killua huffed. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get you to wake up for 10 minutes.”

(Name) stood, rubbing her eyes before peering out the window. “What time is it? The sun’s barely out…”

“I don’t know… like 6 am? I wasn’t paying attention. Bisky kept throwing things at us.”

She shuffled across the room, opening her closet. “Alright, tell her I’ll be out in a second. Gotta change…”

Killua shrugged and left, leaving her alone to get dressed.

After putting on a simple, airy summer dress, (Name) made her way downstairs. Bisky was perched on a stool, looking at a… suspicious magazine. The front cover had a half naked man on the front, making (Name) raise an eyebrow, but she stayed silent.

“I see you’re up. Start ren.”

“Ren? But I haven’t had breakfast-“

“I’m not repeating myself.”

She tried not to groan, getting into position before starting ren.

Not only did she want to save Kite… but she was getting pretty freaked out by Palm’s ominous warnings.

‘I have to try harder…’

———————

“Ugh…”

(Name) walked on wobbly legs down the street. Her body was exhausted and she felt like she would pass out at any moment.

Between training with Bisky then eating and sleeping, she had little time for herself. So when she was given an hour of free time, she nearly ran to the park.

Well… (Name) couldn’t really run right now persay, but she moved as fast as possible for her exhausted body.

She nearly collapsed on the bench, taking out her phone to scroll mindlessly through social media while snacking.

A smile stretched across her face when she saw a picture of Leorio in his new scrubs, her eyes lighting up when she noticed he was holding a picture of their group.

She liked it before scrolling, nearly jumping out of her skin when someone cleared their throat in front of her.

It was that guy with the pompadour again!

“Uh… hello. You’re Knuckle, right?”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes at her. “And you’re friends with the two boys I’m fighting against,”

She blinked in confusion, tilting her head. “I- how did you-“

“Yesterday I fought against them and came back the their hotel room. You were asleep on the couch.”

(Name)’s cheeks heated up, and she scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “Ah, yeah… I was tired from training.”

Knuckle looked her up and down, frowning. “From what they said, you’re the one that’s going with the winners, right?”

She set aside her snack, turning off her phone. “Apparently, yeah. I’m not quite sure why Chairman Netero chose me, but I’m going anyways so I’m here to support Gon and Killua as much as I can.”

The man nodded, crossing his arms. “And how has that been going so far?”

A frown appeared on her face. In her mind, she hadn’t really done much of use. Despite being several years older than Gon and Killua, she was nowhere near their strength and amount of determination. All (Name) wanted to do was help her friends… and keep Kurapika out of her mind.

“Honestly? Not great. I feel so weak and helpless, and I think I’ll be more of a burden to the team if I’m the one that goes to NGL again. I don’t know why the chairman said I’m going for sure instead of Gon and Killua. They both have so much more skill and experience than I do in battle.”

“But are they as experienced in life as you?”

This made her pause, her eyes flicking up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shifted his weight, letting out a grunt. “Those boys may be strong, but they’ve had strength their whole lives. Neither of them truly knows what it means to be utterly weak and defenseless… but you do. You can better understand the battlefield from a different point of view.”

This was something she hadn’t considered. Knuckle offered her a hand, a smile on his face. “If strength is something you want, I can help.”

(Name) hesitantly took his hand, and the two wandered off to begin training.

——————

Kurapika scrolled through his old messages with (Name), laughing to himself at some silly pictures. It had been a rough day with missions going wrong and lots of whining from Neon, so he allowed himself a few minutes of rest.

And he couldn’t help but take out his phone and scroll to her blocked number.

His soft brown eyes took in her sweet smile and read through her jokes and kind words. He got so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Melody calling for him until she was looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, is that (Name)?”

Kurapika jumped, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up, but Melody got there before he did. On the screen was a picture of (Name) in a bathing suit eating ice cream.

“Oh…”

Melody cleared her throat and handed the phone back to him, clearly a bit flustered and uncomfortable. “Apologies, I should have knocked. You’re a teenager, I didn’t even think that you’d be uh… looking at things like this.”

Kurapika nearly died on the spot, his face going red. “N-no, it’s not what it looks like! I was… just looking at old pictures we sent to each other.”

Melody paused, hearing a sorrowful song being sung by his heart. She let out a sigh, turning back towards him.

Although she wanted him and (Name) to reconcile, she could tell that him lingering on her memory while keeping distant was only hurting him.

“Don’t you think it’s… best to leave it alone? I’m not sure it’s fair to either of you if you’re going to act like this.”

His eyes turned scarlet, and he shoved his phone into his pocket before standing. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Melody.”

“I think it is when you’ve been getting sloppy during missions, Kurapika! You get drunk at night then wake up so hungover you can barely work. How is that fair to the other body guards? Either work this out or…”

She stopped, placing a hand to her temple. “Either go back to her or don’t. If you’re going to break off the friendship, then you can’t be wishy-washy like this. It’s not healthy.”

Kurapika settled back into his chair as she left, staring down at his phone screen. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes before he swiped them away.

His finger hovered over the delete button… and he clicked it over and over, getting rid of most of their messages and memories.

——————-

“Concentrate, (Name). If you can’t hit me, you won’t get any stronger.”

Sweat pooled down her forehead, her shirt soaked. It had been nearly two hours since (Name) began training with Knuckle, and he had only landed a single hit on him the whole time. His ability was annoying, but it was good practice sparring with him.

“Come on, just one more punch and you’ll get a break. Try again.”

She bit her lip, trying to focus and keep calm as he stood before her. Knuckle hadn’t been going easy on (Name), she had specifically asked him to fight her seriously… but god was she exhausted and ready for a break.

All of her nen focused into her fists, surprising him. She wasn’t one to be so reckless… Perhaps this could be a good development.

She sped up the very air around her fists, causing it to get hot enough to have him wincing when she thrust her fist forward.

Indirectly, she had hit him with an attack.

“That was… smart.”

He sat down, passing her a bottle of water, which she downed almost immediately. After collapsing on the grass, she caught her breath before speaking.

“Do you… think I’m getting any stronger? There’s only one more day until I leave for NGL…”

Knuckle waited until she had calmed down before he spoke. “I think you are stronger than you were a week ago.”

She blinked, then smiled, a big genuine smile. Before he could even react, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks for this, Knuckle. I really appreciate it.”

The man was left a stuttering mess as (Name) stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I’ve got to get back home and start training with Bisky… that woman won’t tolerate any lateness.”

With a wave, (Name) ran off.

That night, she sat up in bed when she heard the alarm for the boys 3 hour ren training going off.

Opening the door, she peeked out to see Gon and Killua looking quite serious… though they were both grinning ear to ear.

“Are you boys going out again?”

Gon turned, giving her a smile. “Yep, today we’re going to fight him for real!”

(Name) rubbed her eyes as she walked in, still in her pajamas. “I see… I think you’ll do well, and I wish you the best.”

The two were pulled into her arms, a kiss placed on both of their heads. “Just… know that you’re both very strong and smart boys, sometimes… Even though you try your hardest, you can still fail. That’s life.”

Killua frowned, his head rested on her chest as Gon looked up at her. “We’re going to do it, (Name)! We’ll give it our all!”

She giggled, ruffling his hair. “I know you will. Now-“

The sound of paper tearing made them all jump. Palm was scribbling something terrifying onto paper, muttering something barely legible under her breath.

‘Yikes, I’m just glad I won’t be here tomorrow.’

————————

(Name) woke up in the morning, whining softly as she turned. It was Killua again… except this time, he looked devoid of hope.

She was instantly wide awake, throwing back her blanket so she could pull him into her arms. “Killua, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He sighed, letting her coddle him for a moment. It felt nice, after how awful his night had been.

“We… didn’t win.”

(Name) had expected as much. Killua and Gon waste my weak by any standard, but at the moment Knuckle was leagues ahead of them. From pure battleground experience alone, he had the advantage.

“I couldn’t fight… I kept…”

Killua choked up, clutching her sleeve. “I kept hearing my older brother’s warning… he always told me to never fight someone if I wasn’t sure I could win… how can I be friends with Gon if I can’t fight by his side!?”

She held him as he cried tears of frustration. He was so angry with himself for being weak, for being afraid.

“Killua, baby…”

There wasn’t much she could say or do, so she quietly pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. “Maybe you should think about it for a while, sweetheart. Do you think Gon thinks the same way you do?”

Killua was silent, and she wasn’t even sure he heard her. The two stayed like that for a few minutes before he wiped his tears. “… Knuckle and Shoot said you need to be packed up by 3 pm. You’re leaving with them then.”

There was a look of hesitance on his face, and he gripped her sleeve tighter. “Are… you sure you want to go? It’s going to be dangerous, (Name).”

“I know, and I’m sure.”

She stood up, walking over to her dresser. “I’m going to pack, you can stay in here if you want.”

And he did.

(Name) stretched after stepping out of the van, leaning her head against Knuckle. It was strange, he seemed so fidgety after their training the day before.

“Knuckle.”

“Hmm?”

Gon stood before him, Knuckle’s nen technique still clinging to his shoulder from their fight. “Promise me… you have to save Kite!”

“Got it. I promise I’ll bring him back. I swear on this token.”

(Name) gave them both a hopeful, nervous smile, waving as she left. The two watched her go, both trying their best to stay strong.

———————

(Name) walked into NGL, wearing the clothes she had during her previous trip. Almost immediately she was pulled into a hole, yelping and falling onto her butt.

“Eek!”

Knuckle and Shoot landed across from her on their feet, getting into a fighting stance immediately. Knov and Morel stood before them, both of their gazes on (Name).

“We were told you have healing abilities, yes?”

(Name) was escorted to the chimera ant colony, where she was brought into the queen’s room. The ground was crunchy underneath her shoes, and the air was thick with tension.

There were doctors already working on her, and (Name) could tell that the creature was far past any saving.

“Hello…”

She knelt beside the queen, looking over her wounds. The doctor to her left spoke.

“Several organs have been damaged beyond repair, and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

(Name) frowned, looking over her body. “I’m… not sure I can do anything. If she had a missing limb or large cut, I could accelerate her atoms to heal faster. My ability speeds up time, if her organs are damaged or gone, all my ability will do is kill her faster, not heal her.”

The heart monitor started to slow, and the ant queen reached out her hand. She was trying to speak.

“Please! Please, you have to do something!”

A chimera ant named Colt grabbed her shoulders. “Anything, please!”

(Name) bit her lip, reaching out her hand. She tried to remember how it felt when Kurapika snapped at her… how time seemed to slow down and stretch forever.

Knov and Morel stared on in awe and disbelief, watching as the ant queen’s heart monitor slowed.

“I’ve stalled her organs failing… please, let her speak.”

‘She… slowed down time? Even for just a localized area, that’s an incredible feat!’ Morel thought, peeking over (Name)’s shoulder.

(Name) didn’t hear a single thing the queen said, all of her energy was spent on stalling just a little longer, keeping time still.

“She’s gone…”

With those words, (Name) collapsed covered in sweat. Shoot was closest, catching her before she hit her head.

——————

(Name) woke up in a feverish haze, her body feeling heavy and way too hot. As her eyes struggled to open, she heard something faint and distant.

Someone was speaking to her, trying to get her attention.

“(Name)..?”

As the fuzziness in her eyes began to fade a bit, she was finally able to focus on the figure sitting next to her bed.

“Ch… chairman… Netero..?”

The man before her had a calm look on his face, leaning back in his chair before speaking. “You’re awake. It’s been four days since you temporarily stopped time.”

“Four days!?”

She jolted up, nearly vomiting after the sudden movement jostled her.

“Easy there. Lay back down, there’s no need to rush. We need you to recover as quickly as possible, and that can’t happen if you’re trying to rush things.”

(Name) blinked her bleary eyes, settling back down and putting her head over her forehead. “You need me..? Why? I did one thing and now I’ve been out of commission for days.”

“You stopped time, (Name). That can be very useful to us.”

She huffed, looking around the room before her eyes settled on a glass of water. “I only slowed down time temporarily for a localized area. It's not enough to help anyone, much less-“

He handed her the cup of water.

“You kept the ant queen alive long enough for her to tell the others the King’s name. That’s crucial information tha can be used as a bargaining chip. It seems you don’t understand the potential you have and the impact your powers can have on the future.”

Netero watched her drink, sighing. “Slowing down time is something impossible, I’m not even sure how you were able to do it. When creating something with nen or performing an ability, it has to have some basis in reality.”

“Well…”

(Name) set the glass beside her, wiping the leftover water from her mouth. “All I did was imagine a moment where time seemed to slow down for me, and-“

“And you transferred that ability into nen! My girl, you’re quite clever, aren’t you?”

For the first time, Netero seemed genuinely impressed. He stood, walking over to a table and picking something up.

“Here, it’s your bag. I’m sure Gon and Killua will want to know what’s happening.”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“An enhancer will be coming by in an hour or so to help with the healing process. You should be good as new within a day or so.”

He paused, turning to look at her. “And make sure you don’t tell anyone about your ability. There are many people that would kill to be able to stop time… even for just a moment.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

—————-

(Name) winced as Gon jumped into her arms, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright…”

She frowned, petting his hair. Gon was completely quiet, his face hidden in her shoulder as he clutched her tightly.

‘He’s already nervous about Kite, I’m sure knowing I was in the hospital scared him…’

Killua stood by her bedside, reaching out to hold onto her shirt. The way Killua showed how he worried for her was pretty cute.

“Chairman Netero said I’ll be fine. An enhancer came by and checked on me a minute ago.”

The two seemed to relax a bit, smiling as they not got comfortable in her hospital bed.

“Ahh, now it’s cramped.”

They watched tv for a bit, eating hospital food and laughing. “You both seem like you’re in a better mood!”

“Yeah, that’s because Knuckle said he found Kite!”

(Name)’s face lit up at Gon’s words, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously? That’s amazing!”

Killua looked out the window, his eyebrows furrowed.

‘Knuckle seemed troubled when he told us… something is up.’

But he stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the good vibes. Gon had been training so hard to save Kite… and Killua really wanted to believe everything would be okay.

The three spent the next few days together, sharing their experiences. They were both shocked to learn about her new ability.

“YOU STOPPED TIME!?”

(Name) quickly covered his mouth, shushing him. “Shh, I'm not supposed to tell anyone! It’s dangerous information….”

“Then why the hell did you tell us!?”

She sighed, giving him a smile. “Because you two are my friends.”

Killua quieted at that, hugging to try and hide his embarrassment and happiness. “Yeah, yeah…”

Gon leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling. “You’re both my friends, and… I care a lot about you both!”

Killua threw a pillow at him, his cheeks pink. “Oh will you both stop it with the sappy stuff!?”

Gon and (Name) giggled at him, making Killua even more flustered.

(Name) wishes times like these could last forever… but that could never be. Something felt wrong, there was going to be more pain and heartbreak sooner than she wanted…

But there was nothing she could do for now, so she held onto them both, trying her best to be their rock as the days passed by.

—————

Walking down the dark stairway to meet Kite for the first time in months should have been exciting… but all the three felt as they were guided into uncertainty was a nervous, anxious feeling.

Not a single one of them thought everything was okay. Even Gon had a strange expression on his face, half way hopeful, half way dreading what was going to be behind the door.

She put her hand on his back, smiling softly before giving him his space.

If she could stop time right then, she would have done everything in her power to keep Gon from seeing Kite in his current state.

Covered in stitches, staggering and twitching like a zombie. He had been shrunken down by Shoot’s ability, but grew to his full size when let out of his cage.

(Name) tried to stay strong for the boys, but tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she gazed at the man she had admired.

She could tell just from a glance that he had no more life inside of him. He was just a walking corpse with no nen or voice. There was no more communicating with him, he couldn’t be fixed…

Yet Gon walked towards him, allowing himself to be punched as he said it was okay.

(Name) winced, covering her mouth as Gon attempted to speak with him. It was heartbreaking…

Killua couldn’t move, couldn’t say a single word. His eyes were transfixed, moving to follow every strike Kite landed on Gon.

He was finally able to speak, broken from his trance when (Name) reached out to hold his hand and squeeze it gently to comfort him.

The others spoke, but (Name) didn’t hear a thing. The only thing she was focused on was how she would try to heal Gon with her nen after this.

If he would even let her.

Killua helped her up the stairs as they left, letting her lean against him. She was still weak from her overexerting her nen output…

While they walked, Knuckle came up from behind, taking her other arm. “Here, let me help.”

Though Killua really disliked the fact Knuckle had gotten so friendly with (Name), he allowed him to help. He seemed to put (Name) at ease…

“Is… Gon going to be okay?”

The group was sitting in a cafe now, watching as (Name) joined them at the table. She smiled, but it was obvious she was forcing it. “Physically, he’s fine. I healed him up… but…”

Everyone knew what was going unsaid. Gon was in emotional turmoil, struggling to cope with the current situation.

“… there’s still a few weeks before his Nen will be restored.” Knuckle stated, sipping on his coffee. “I guess we’ll just have to watch over him until then.”

——————

On the surface, Gon seemed okay, but both Killua and (Name) knew him well enough to understand it was just a facade. He was storing up all of his anger and strength so he could face off against Pitou.

After a few weeks, the ant extermination group met up in a relatively crowded restaurant, (Name) sitting between Killua and Knuckle as they watched the TV over head.

“What is the agenda behind the sudden flurry of activity recently observed in East Gorteau? Supreme leader Diego has personally invited all citizens in the capital city Peijing to celebrate the nation’s birth in ten days.”

As the news anchors continued to speak, Morel scoffed. “Colt believes the celebration will be used as a screening.”

“We don’t know what they’ll do with those found to have nen, but 99% of the humans there will die. We must stop it before that happens. Our time limit is ten days.” Knov finished, addressing Gon and Killua.

“What’s the old man up to?”

“He sent an email saying that he’s already inside East Gorteau, but I haven’t heard from him since.” Knov replied to Killua.

“Do you think he’s already been taken out?”

“If he fails to contact us today, we’ve been told to assume as much.”

At that, Knov’s phone began to ring. (Name) but her lip, of course Chairman Netero would call right at that exact moment!

“Speak of the devil, it’s the chairman.”

“That old man’s got some sharp ears.”

“He already knows everything, including the fact that you boys and (Name) are here. And that Morel is badmouthing him.”

The text read as follows:

“Divide into pairs and draw the Royal guard away from the king. The night before the celebration, the operation will begin at midnight. (Name), do not use your nen again until then. From the sharp-eared old man.”

“That guy really scares me…”

(Name) laughed at Morel’s words, but in the back of her mind she wondered why she wouldn’t be able to use her nen until then… what did Netero have planned?

[chrlvctius]

sanctuary

alexia putellas x reader fic!!

> soo angsty with a fluff at the end!! keeping my promises fr ‼️‼️

Your pov:

Your limbs went limp as one of the things you had always wanted slid through your hands as the final whistle blew, and it felt as though your heart took its final beat.

That hurt. You felt constricted and compressed due to exhaustion and emotion. You felt so little and helpless. You began to hear voices in your head, including those of your parents, siblings, and other family members. How would they react to this?

As multiple sounds erupted around the stadium, you collapsed to the ground with your head firmly buried into your lap while breathing deeply. Barcelona did win, but you fell up short. When Alexia scored the final goal, you were already defeated. You were supposed to own that. You were meant to be the one.

With tears in your eyes, you watched as Keira, Lucy, and Pina approached Alexia and embraced her. You were exhaling heavily and making an effort to stop your tears from falling to the ground by looking up at the sky. This was extremely unfortunate. Others would express their pride in you to you, but none of that would truly matter. Barcelona did win, but you came up short. It's always been you against the world.

You were the valued possession of your family. What's not to brag about when you're in Barcelona playing football with other professionals?

Before Alexia, you weren't used to coming in second in everything.

You hated her so much. She was competent and well-versed in every move, tackle, and technique, which you hated. You hated that others gave her some of the attention that was intended for you but went to her instead since she was always one step ahead of you. She was incredibly skilled, and you hated how well she played in every match. You hated the fact that she never made a mistake and was always perfect.

This was the only way you could prove your worth. You were in desperate need of this. You had to get everything just right. You needed to do better. Without this, you are nothing. Nothing worthy. The only thing that distinguishes you from the rest of your family was your love of football. It was the only thing that gave you life and made you feel seen.

Having this taken away from you entirely breaks you. You were only good at one thing that stood out.

You were never good at anything other than this. It's the only thing that has made you worthy. You truly have nothing and are nothing without this. You get deeply disappointed when you see someone doing something better than you have always done. When will the world stop taking things away from you?

You didn't see ona approaching you as you were looking up at the sky trying to stop your tears from falling to the ground. Ona sat next to you and simply looked at you, her eyes filled with pity.

She wrapped her hand around your shoulders and murmured, "Y/n.."

I looked at her with watery eyes. I probably looked completely worn out at this moment. with unkempt hair, glossy eyes, and bags under my eyes.

I replied "No, ona" despite the feeling of shaking in my voice.

I sigh and bury my face in the crook of her neck, "I hate this, I hate her so much. Why does it always have to be like this, why does this always happen to me?"

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know that anything I say right now won't really change anything of what's just happened and i'm really sorry," Ona says while stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head.

For a while, Ona comforts me, and only then, when things began to feel lighter, did we stand up and follow the others to the changing room, with Ona promising to stay by my side the entire time I'm in there.

Alexia’s pov:

I was quite proud of the goals I received today. I was the happiest person alive after scoring that final goal because everyone appeared to be participating together. The girls approached and gave me many hugs and compliments.

"Congratulations, Ale! You deserve it", lucia said and stroked my shoulder, but Keira only gave me a hug and a tender whisper. Everyone was pleased, and Pina couldn't stop jumping and running around.

Not until I noticed y/n sitting down and ona seated next to her. I became aware that something was wrong at that point. Ona kept looking at me, and all I could see was pity.

I arched my eyebrows at her as if to indicate or inquire about what was wrong, but all Ona did was shake her head and keep rubbing Y/N's back. I began to feel strange and uneasy. All of a sudden, everything felt incredibly slow, and I was unable to make out any of the words that my teammates or the crowd were chanting. Right now, y/n was all that mattered to me.

I had never before seen her in such a state. She looked extremely weak and defeated. It made me feel weak as well. I felt weak after seeing her weak, and that wasn't nice.

"I think you have something to talk out with y/n," said Lucy and Mapi as they drew nearer to me and also glanced at Ona and Y/N.

I simply nodded, but it was so clear that I appeared absolutely off and weak as I immediately headed for the changing rooms.

As soon as Ona and I entered the changing room, everyone turned to stare at me, and it was evident that everyone felt sorry for me. As I was making my way to the showers, everyone started patting me on the back. At this time, I didn't really give a shit. I felt so worthless and numb.

What had been seconds changed to minutes, and those to hours. I didn't even notice or hear Ona tapping on the glass door and telling me she'll be gone because she needs to tend to things.

I was just staring at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't know what to say to my family. I can already hear my father telling me how much of a disgrace I am to our family.

I almost had it. I had it in my grasp but couldn't keep it. I hate the fact that there is always an "almost" in everything I do. "Almost had it" , "Almost perfect" , "Almost" . It frustrates me because no matter how hard I try, nothing ever works out. I tried my hardest at everything, yet I always ended up being average. I hate the fact that every time I was ultimately seen by everyone, there were only fleeting moments of recognition.

I hate how Alexia doesn't even have to try that hard, whereas I have to try my hardest.

I gave everything I had just to be seen. I've always been second, third, or last in line to my siblings. Every time I'm second to Alexia, my stomach drops. Everything I do is never enough, and all of my efforts are never reciprocated. I hate how I'm always giving but never getting anything in return. I hate how I'm always the second option, the background person, the ignored side character. No matter what I do, I can never really be enough for anyone, and I hate how invisible I become when I lose "something."

Having to go through this again literally kills me. I wish I had never felt this way because I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate how depressed I am and how the universe is against me. How it weakens me to the point where I am unable to do anything. I poured my heart and soul into that match. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for nothing in the end.

After what seemed like hours, I stepped from the shower, still wearing my robe, and was taken aback to see alexia seated on the bench near my locker. She looked up at me with concern in her eyes, and she stood up and approached me, and I just stood there, not knowing what to do since I didn't want to see her or talk to her after what happened.

"y/n," she said as she approached me. Even after hours of showering, I probably looked like crap. I knew this wasn't going to go well with my eyes red and puffy, and possibly still tearing up.

I walked past her, but she grabbed my wrist. "What do you need, alexia?" I asked back, and she glanced at me with concern.

"I just got concerned about you, i wanted to check up on you after seeing you and ona sitting on the pitch awhile ago"

"Oh, so you do see?" I joked, laughing a little.

"What do you mean? I don't understand," alexia replied, still clutching my wrist.

"You know, now isn't a good time to talk to me," I muttered, attempting to free my wrist from her clutches, but she drew me in closer.

"No, tell me what's wrong. What happened back there? What's wrong with you?" she said, and just hearing someone ask if I was okay made me want to ball my eyes out since that question will always have a major effect on me.

I pulled my wrist from her grasps and turned around, keeping calm. "You really want to know, huh?" I asked, although it was plain in my voice that I was about to burst out bawling.

"Yes, I do want to know, y/n. Tell me what's wrong," she begged pleadingly.

Still turned around, fresh tears welled up in my eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time today. "That goal was supposed to be mine; it was meant for me, but you took it away," I cried out, my voice quivering with dismay and rage. I never intended to yell or shout at her in that manner, but it just seemed right. I've never been someone who likes to yell. Whenever something bad happened, I handled it correctly and kept silent, but doing this just seemed right. I didn't care who heard me yell or anything; all I wanted to do was express my outrage.

"I know how you feel," she responded, and I screamed back, "No, you don't! You'll never know how I feel, you'll never know what this feels like because you're not in my place," I cried, tears flowing down my face. I cried as I punched her chest in an attempt to push her away, but she just stayed there, letting me punch her chest while crying.

"You'll never know how it feels like to keep on trying and trying and nothing really happening, you'll never feel the need to try harder because you're already the best, you don't even have to fucking try, alexia! You don't!" I shouted as I stared at her and breathed deeply.

She looked at me and licked her lips as she tried to figure out what to say. "Trust me, I've been there, y/n. I know how heavy and painful it is to lose and to let people down. I've been there, I promise you. I've done that a lot of times already. I may not know what you're feeling right now, I may not know what you want to do but all I want is to be here with you because I've been there. I've see all of it"

"All I want is to be here for you because no one has ever been," she added as I turned my back on her and faced the locker again.

I was still turned around, crying, and leaning against the locker when I heard footsteps approaching and felt two arms circling my waist and squeezing me tightly. I didn't stop her because I didn't have the energy to do so anymore. I was just tired, numb, and exhausted. I was tired of others controlling me, invalidating me, telling me what to do and what not to do, and I was tired of my family's expectations of me. I just wanted to breathe and feel like the world wasn't always against me.

I relaxed into Alexia's touch, turned around to face her, held her, and cried while hiding my face in the crook of her neck.

I just kept crying while hugging her, and she just stood there stroking my hair and whispered words into my ears to calm me down. I felt like I poured all of my pain into my eyes as I cried.

I'm not normally a fan of physical interaction, but Alexia hugging me like this felt just right. It felt so right. It surprised me since everything felt right when she hugged me. Everything felt right. I felt comfortable and secure in her arms.

Being in her arms felt just right. I was the perfect fit for her, and she was the perfect fit for mine. The moment Alexia hugged me, all the voices in my head stopped yelling. It was as though a switch had been flipped. It seemed as if the world had come to a stop and nothing else mattered. Being in her arms felt like home, and I swear, I have no idea what home feels like because mine never did, but I just knew that this felt so much like home. This has to be it.

I had stopped crying after about an hour, but I was still in her arms, and I didn't want to let go. I was afraid that if I did, all the voices would return to haunt me.

Alexia took a thorough glance at me and examined my face, as if she was memorising every detail of my face, before softly smiling. "I'm sorry that you feel this way and I'd do anything to make you feel better, I really do." She went on to say, "No one should ever treat you like this, no one should ever feel like this. I may not know what problems you have with your family but you don't deserve all that treatment from them"

She caressed my face, and just by doing so, new fresh tears flowed because I'd been wanting for someone to do this for god knows how long. "You are enough, you are more than enough," she says, cupping my face.

"I've seen how hard you worked this season and I couldn't be more proud of you. If you felt like you didn't do much, I know you did. From the bottom of my heart, I know. I've been with you the whole time, y/n," she added, her eyes welling up with tears.

She hugged me, and I hugged her back with all I had, and she laughed when she realised how hard I hugged her back.

"I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I'll stay with you," she said, to which I answered, "I know you will, I'm just testing the waters here," and she and I both giggled.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, ale," I whispered, putting my face in the crook of her neck.

I felt her smile when she heard me call her by the nickname that our friends called her, and I can assure you that I have never used that nickname on her.

"Get dressed, okay? And then I'll take you out to dinner," she added as she kissed my head. I nodded and followed her instructions.

After getting dressed, she extended her hand, which I gladly accepted. I intertwined our fingers and left.

"Is this a date?" I joked, and she grinned and drew me in closer.

"Only if you want it to be," she chuckled and kissed my cheek, and we both laughed and proceeded to walk with our hands firmly interlaced, never letting go.

I'm actually proud of this, what 😭😭 nah but fr ! I hope y'all enjoyed this coz I did HELPPP angst is defi my top 1 ! fluff my second <3 🤍 thank youuuuuu!! aaaaaaa plss give me more ideas on the comsec or just ask mee! thank you, thank youuuu aaa ilyy mwaaaa

[del-thetiredwriter]

Saintess of Dragons part 1

Part 2, part 3

Yandere/dark Targaryens-Velaryons x female modern reader

English is my second language

Gif is not mine

“My lady, Prince Daemon has informed that he wishes to see you.”

You put the paintbrush on the table at the voice of the maid.

"I understand. Help me get dressed. Do not touch the canvas, place the materials in their usual places, and finally, no one enters my study while I am away.”

As you passed through the corridors of the court , you saw the officials rushing in for the celebrations. It was that time of the year. The day everyone loved but you hated: "Rising Star Celebrations".

A new Star rose in the sky 11 years ago tonight, a Star never seen before, brighter than any other. That night, the dragons roared in unison as if celebrating someone's arrival, and the 'gods' sent a savior, a saint.

That saint was you. When you woke up one night, you found yourself in a bed in the Red keep, surrounded by council members and the royal family. You couldn't believe your ears when they explained their situation to you.

The whole thing was like a terrible joke. You really were in the book 'war and blood' that you read. Of course it sounds like amazing thing that living in your favorite series but actually it wasn’t.

⁎

You finally arrive in the room where Daemon is waiting for you.

“You took a long time to come.”

" There's nothing can be done. I'm busy" you said expressionlessly

“You look the same. Like I saw you 11 years ago tonight. You're still the same except for your clothes and that expression on your face. Indeed, as expected from the Saintess sent by the gods, the gods love you so much that they don't let time change you. You never age."

Daemon said, that look in his eyes that you don't like. He was staring at it like a Hunter looks at his prey.

“Are you jealous? Unlike you, I will always remain young and beautiful” You replied.

A laugh broke out from Daemon at your words.

“How are Laena and the girls?” you asked.

"They are good . They arrive in Kingslanding tomorrow. You know Laena is pregnant so she can't come directly on the dragon.”

“Yes,” you whispered.

‘She will die soon. Just like everyone’ you thought.

⁎

“Where have you been! You have to get ready for the night,” Rhaenyra said in a sweet angry voice.

“I was with Daemon. ” You said as Rhaenyra combed your hair.

“Daemon? Did he do or say anything strange to you?” Rhaenyra asked.

“Here's the usual Daemon. He didn't say anything very important." You said.

A deep sigh came from Rhaenyra. She looked sadly at your reflection in the mirror. She placed her chin on your shoulder and wrapped her arms around your waist.

"Rhaenyra?"

" You are very beautiful. Tonight is a special night that brought you to us, to me, but sometimes when I look at you, it feels like you will leave me at any moment. It's like you're going back to where you came from."

You didn't know what to say at Rhaenyra's words. She was right, you still wanted to go 'home', but you didn't know how. Living here in this world was exhausting and dangerous. You were afraid to change the future at the slightest mistake. You hated see peoples deaths and misery but order to stay alive and make sure future stays same you had to.

“Sometimes I want to lock you in a place where no one can find you, not even the gods, so you can’t leave me ” Rhaenyra whispered.

"What did you say?" You didn't hear what Rhaenyra said.

" Nothing . Now we have to go ." Said Rhaenyra, and you went to the celebrations together.

[jawritter]

Dean’s Birthday Surprise

Summary: Y/N get’s Dean a kinky surprise for his 44th Birthday!

Warnings: 18 + Only!! HERE THERE BE SMUT!!!! NO ONE UNDER 18 SHOULD READ THIS FIC!!!  Crotchless panties, girl on top, fingering, language, nudity. P & V smut. 

Written For: @spnkinkevents

Prompt: Crotchless Panties

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2k 

A/N: A little something I through together for our best boy’s birthday! This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Dean’s POV:

Dean felt old, and he hated every minute of it. 

Honestly, he never expected to live to see 44 years of age. He figured he was gonna die bloody as a young man. When he was 43 he came damn close to it.

Still, here he stands. Alive, well, and more than a little depressed. 

He couldn't understand it really, how he got old. One minute he was a young man, hunting, and had the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand. Next, he was being told her had "dad bod", whatever the fuck that was. 

Logically, Dean knew he wasn't old, he just didn't expect to live this long. He didn't know what to do with his life from here. Sure, he had Y\N, but how long could he expect that to last really? She was young, beautiful, smart, hell, he was surprised every day he woke up and she was still laying with her head on his chest. Fuck if he'd ever understand why she loved him, but she said she did.

"Happy birthday handsome," her voice sounded from behind him as her arms wrapped around his middle, and her head rested on his back. Good he didn't deserve her. She was far too perfect for him. Still, he was selfish, and he loved her, so he did everything he could to make her stay.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out after clearing his throat. He stopped the sponge in his hand into the soap filled bucket at his feet so that he could rest his hand on top of hers.

"You gonna take her for a spin now that you got her all clean?" She questioned, sliding herself around to stand in front of him moving her hands to rest on his shoulders. 

Dean hummed before pressing his lips to her own in a brief kiss. To brief for his liking, normally he was much more thorough. He was just so trapped in his head. Maybe a drive would do him some good. Being alone in Baby always helped clear his head. 

"Yeah, I think I will…"

"Good," she quipped quickly. "Cause when you get home I got a surprise for my favorite birthday boy." 

"Aw baby," Dean said with an exhausted sigh. " I told you that you didn't have to make a fuss over me."

"No argument Mr.! "She fussed, shoving his shoulders playfully and earning a genuine smirk from him. "Now, you go take a ride, clear your head so you can get out of whatever headspace you're trapped in there, and we're gonna have some time alone with the bunker all to ourselves."

Dean sighed heavily before leaning forward to peck her lips again. 

"Where's Sammy gonna be?" Dean questioned, turning to stare at his girl, who was leaning against her bright red, classic Mustang. Admiring him like he was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen. God he really, really didn't deserve her.  

"He and Eileen have a date tonight, and he said he's already planning to stay there at her house," Y/N answered. "Now GO! I got to get ready for your present."

"Fine, fine," Dean waved her off and opened the car door, shaking his head in disbelief at this woman and how she could possibly love him. 

Y/N POV:

Three hours later, Y/N found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup with nothing on but a short, black silk robe, and a pair of lace, crotchless panties. 

Normally, Dean wasn't much for theatrics. 'They're just gonna end up on the floor anyway', he says, but Y/N knew that he enjoyed these kinda things more than he wanted to admit. He just didn't want her to feel like she HAD to do this kinda thing for him. Like he didn't deserve the extra attention. Y/N disagree, honestly she wished he'd let her do more. She would just have to settle for birthdays and special occasions, today just happened to be Dean's birthday. 

Besides, when he saw her in this, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t gonna have enough blood left in his brain to argue about it with her anyway. 

She quickly brushed her hand through her hair to give herself some volume, and smiled victorious at the image of the woman she’d created staring back at her. She was quite proud of this look if she did say so herself. 

As if on cue, Y/N heard the distinct sound of the bunker garage door closing, and she knew she had just a few minutes before Dean came wandering into their shared room. He was very much a creature of habit, or else this surprise would have been a lot harder to pull off. 

Still, knowing Dean the way she did, she hurried to position herself on the bed, first trying laying in her side, but that didn’t really work for, then she tried laying her back, but that really didn’t do it, so she tried a fail safe, something she knew Dean enjoyed, even if he didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed it, and that was her on her knees, in the middle of the bed, waiting for him like the good girl he loved so much. 

She had no more loosened the ties on her kaminio, revealing the perfect swells of her supple breast, than the bedroom door cracked open, and Dean stepped in, still looking at his phone. 

“Hey baby, I’m hungry, I’m think about ordering a piz—”

Dean’s words died somewhere in his throat when he looked up to find Y/N kneeling in the center of the bed, legs spread just enough to not reveal too much, but enough to be inviting, and nothing but a thin, black slick gathering of fabric covering his prize. His phone slipped from his fingers, and landed on the floor along with his jaw, and she couldn’t help but smirk in victory. 

“Happy birthday De,” she voiced as he started to robotically kick off his shoes, as well as shed his jacket, attempting to shed all of the layers he had on as fast as he possibly could. “Why don’t you come on over here and open up your present?”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, as he ripped his shirt off his head, leaving a cute, hedgehog hairstyle behind. He was already working his belt and jeans loose before he started to move towards the bed, hungry green eyes taking in all that they could devour.

“Goddamit baby girl, you’re gonna give a man a heart attack,” Dean mumbled as he climbed onto the bed knees first. His hands already reached for her hips to pull her as flush to him as she could before their lips collided with one another in a deep, need filled kiss.

“So I take it that you like it then,” she questioned as she pulled away from him, leaving him chasing her kiss with the most adorable disgruntled face. Almost as if he was confused and offended at her for taking her lips away from his too soon. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” he said, his thick, capable fingers already pulling the thin black tigh loose, causing her covering to fall apart, and reveal his real resent underneath.

“Are those crotchless,” his graveled voice trimmed down from his perfect, pink, kiss swollen lips in almost a whisper. 

Y/N shrugged, smirking. “Well Dean, you said that these kinda things are pointless because they always ended up on the floor anyway, so I decided I’d save you the trouble and just get a pair of easy access ones that can stay on.”

As she spoke, Dean’s mouth attacked her throat, laying the pair of them back onto the bed behind her carefully. His cock already hard and straining against his black boxers, begging to be released, so she obliged, and slid them down his hips so that he could kick them off, leaving himself bare before her. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?” Dean questioned just as his perfect mouth sealed over her already erect nipple from the cool temperature of the room contrasting with the fire that Dean was already stoking inside of her. His fingers slipped between her folds, teasing her already sensitive clit as he worked her over, making it harder and harder for her to concentrate. “So fucking beautiful Y/N.”

“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one De,” she managed to say between desperate pants as Dean moved over to the other breast, determined to not leave anyone out, and slipped his thick fingers into her slick heat with ease, curing them in all the right places as he slowly pumped them in and out of her dripping cunt, causing the cord in her stomach to wind tighter and tighter until she was cumming undone underneath him, screaming his name like a prayer. 

“So fucking beautiful Y/N/N,” he repeated as he kissed his way back up to her face, leaving as many little wet, opened mouthed kisses as he could muster as he did while she slowly decended from the high he’d driven her too. 

“Your turn handsome, it is your birthday after all,” she tried to sit up, but he stopped her, his wide palm resting softly against her shoulder to hold her back down as he pumped his pink, fully erect, leaking cock in his hand. 

“No, no princess, it’s my present, and I”ll play with it however I want too, and baby I wanna watch,” he growled  as he carefully slid his swollen length through her slick, gathering as much of her juices as he could before sliding into welcoming center, moaning audibly as he watched her body close in around him, covered in black lace. 

He pumped slowly there, watching his body disappear into her own, mesmerized by sight that lay underneath him, and she shivered as each slow drag of his manhood through her quivering cunt drover her too damn near insanity, stretching her and filling her, but never quite giving her what she needed.

Without warning, Dean flipped the pair of them over, settling her on top of him so that he could watch her more easily, totally and completely captivated, like a man starved, or a blind man seeing for the first time. She would never understand why he always looked at her like that. Not when she felt like the lucky one. 

Dean was a man of few words, but he didn’t have to say anything as she slowly rose and lowered herself on his dick, causing him to toss his head back and his eyes to roll momentarily as his hips rose and feel to meet her pace until neither of them could take it anymore and she began to ride him in earnest. Leaving the room filled with sounds of heavy breath and skin against skin. 

Dean’s thick fingers sank deep into her thighs as he rolled his hips up to meet her, he was so close, she could see it in the way he strained to hold on as long as he could, drag it out as long as possible, until his body was shaking underneath her own, and his dick twitched heavily as he came deep inside of her, triggering her own release as well. 

“Sammy’s gone all night you said?” Dean panted as helped her off of his softening cock to lay down on his heaving chest, 

“Yep, all night,” she chuckled. 

“Good,” he replied, “cause in fifteen minutes we’re going again.”

Forever:

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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@ladysparks78

[actual-changeling]

I think in like. 90% of "they're handcuffed to each other" scenarios, they would not care. It would barely affect their work at all. They'd keep them on even once they have the key because this is the perfect 'for the love of God, do NOT get kidnapped again' insurance.

However.

There are those delicious 10% right in the middle of the Diana mess that would make for the most painful, angsty, hurt/comfort fic you can imagine. Arcadia, but turned up to 11.

This was not supposed to be anything resembling said fic and instead stay a shitpost—but here we are.

———

They're fighting over who gets to be in charge of movement immediately, and they do not stop . They keep tripping because they decide to suddenly walk in two different directions, and their wrists are chafed and bloody.

They keep going like that for a while until their lack of coordination and teamwork almost gets them killed, and then they're stuck hiding in a small, dark space, forced to TALK.

Imagine a janitor's closet or a small, windowless bathroom.

First, there's silence.

Then, one of them dares to say a word, and suddenly they're at each other's throats, going straight for the jugular.

Petty fighting turns into insults, which turn into months of pent-up emotions spilling out without any control over how, and they both say things they'll definitely regret later on.

Until it finally reaches a breaking point when Mulder—annoyed, frustrated, confused—cuts her off and says, "You're making it personal again, Scully."

Her mouth closes with an audible click, and she freezes before shuffling as far away from him as she possibly can. He realises he has fucked up. A lot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Oh, you meant it, Mulder; don't backpedal. You meant it now, and you meant it back then too."

"Scully—"

"Shut up."

She's exhausted. So fucking tired. You made me a whole person to get her to stay, and she'd believed him. Damn it all, she had believed him. Just for him to turn it into a lie and destroy her trust within seconds.

"What does it take? For this thing to come up and bite you on the ass? I saw these creatures. I saw them burst to life. You would've seen them, too, but you were infected with that virus. You were passed out over my shoulder."   "Mulder, I know what you did. I know what happened to me, but without ignoring the science, I can't… Listen, Mulder. You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it, I'd made you a whole person. If I change now… it wouldn't be right or honest."   "I'm talking about extraterrestrial life alive on this planet in our lifetime. Forces that dwarf and precede all human history. I'm sorry, Scully, but this time your science is wrong."

He had walked away from her without a second of hesitation, and she wishes she could walk away from him now.

Six years of loyalty and trust, and for what? To end up as the second-best, easily forgotten choice? To be wanted not for herself but as a placeholder, a substitute for someone else?

Forgiveness, over and over, without hesitation, and Mulder took it for granted. Of course, she will do what he wants. Even when he goes behind her back. Even when he tricks her into it. Even when he leaves her behind with barely a word. Even when she has no reason to do it except because it's him.

Because it's personal.

It has always been personal, but suddenly it's a fallacy she spun out of nothing and not the foundation of their partnership.

"I shouldn't have said that, Scully, i—"

I'm asking you to trust my judgment. To trust me.

"Mulder, shut. up."

He hadn't trusted her. She still trusts him and hates herself for it. What's the point of trusting someone when the reward is rejection and loneliness? When he stopped trusting her God knows how long ago?

The skin on her right wrist burns with abrasions, but she refuses to budge. Pain is sharp and honest, grounding and constant. She trusts pain more than she trusts him.

Time is hard to tell in the dark, it could be minutes or hours of waiting until she can feel his fingertips brush against her palm; she suppresses the urge to flinch. Mulder's touch is warm and light, not meant to ask but to offer, and her body betrays her mind and allows him to interlace their fingers.

God, she misses him. 

Underneath all that bubbling anger and lingering betrayal, she misses her partner. She misses him and the person she knows she can be with him—lighthearted, happy, alive. Contented hours of searching through files and writing reports have become a necessary sacrifice; suffocating spans of time she counts down by the minute.

It was never about the desk. It is not about Diana, not really. 

Maybe the darkness makes them both a bit braver, a bit softer around the edges, because she lets out a deep sigh and wills the tension to leave her muscles. If they keep going the way they have in recent weeks, they will break apart sooner rather than later, and she doesn't want to lose him, she never has. 

All she wants is to get her best friend back and to keep him for however long the world will allow. Not a clean slate or a new beginning, but a second chance for both of them. 

Caught between either extending an olive branch or ending up alone, it is easy to choose. Because it's personal, always has been, and always will be.

The pressure around her wrist disappears when she stops trying to keep her arm from him, and he hesitantly squeezes her hand—she slowly squeezes back.

"I'm sorry. for all of it. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I'm so, so sorry."

Scully pushes herself backward so she is leaning against him again, and when she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they're somewhere, anywhere else, and she's finally coming home.

"I know, Mulder. I know."

[epicthemusical]

Trio to Solo

Okay so this all started with my friend mentioning the idea of Polites having an Achilles rage moment over Odysseus dying and then it just grew into this massive one shot! Anyway there are two fluffy parts that I use to enhance the angst so I hope you guys enjoy! Also @caramellcandy @notsolonedesert @justvea18 here is the idea I mentioned!

Odysseus lays there on the grass with Polites beside him as they gaze up at the stars. He has been so busy lately preparing to become king since his father has been rapidly deteriorating. The exhaustion and stress help him learn to enjoy these small moments that he took for granted. He doesn't know how Polites always managed to stay so happy all the time. He turns on his side to look at his friend.

"Hey Polites, how do you always greet the world with open arms?"

Polites turns toward him and reaches out for his hand fingers intertwining with his. The moonlight makes Polites glow faintly with his soft smile and unruly curls barely contained with his headband.

"Its easy for me to greet the world with open arms when you are my world. How could I refuse any part of you?"

The love and warmth in those brown eyes is overwhelming enough that he feels like he is drowning in it. Why does Polites always leave him breathless like this in these soft moments they share.

"That and well this world could always use more kindness. I like to think that I can make a difference in this world that has so much pain and hate. Being kind can change everything."

Odysseus never can fully understand how Polites stays so optimistic but he loves it all the same just like everything else about him. Even now bathed in moonlight he shines like a brilliant star, softer than his usual bright sunshine yet still bright enough to light up the world around him. He gently places his hand on Polites cheek with a soft smile.

"I hope you never change Polites."

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

Polites stares as the body of his friend, his love is brought back to camp lifeless and covered in blood, so much blood. He grabs the shoulder of a nearby soldier.

"what happened."

His tone is cold but he can't get himself to care. He needs to know what happened, why is Odysseus laying there dead when he should be alive, his eyes sparkling as he comes up with another plan and laughing that deep laugh he always loved hearing.

"We had a ceasefire but someone from the enemy side attacked him from behind...we were to late to save him."

Polites freezes as unfamiliar heat flares to life, rage. They not only dared take Odysseus from him but they attacked him from behind like a coward?! He releases their shoulder not noticing the wince he had drawn from his tight grip and marches to his tent. He pulls on his armor and grabs his sword before he heads out only for Eurylochus to block his path.

"Get out of my way Eury."

Despite the childhood nickname his furious tone leaves no room for negotiation. Eurylochus looks exhausted as he also is grieving for Odysseus but he still refuses to back down.

"Polites please don't do this! This isn't what Odysseus would want!"

"Odysseus is dead! They took him from us, they took him from me! I'm going out there and nothing you say or do will stop me!"

Eurylochus is shocked at the pure venom in his voice and Polites takes that chance to leave ignoring any pleading for him to stop. He doesn't stop instead heading straight onto the battlefield. He dives into the thick of the fight as he cuts down enemy after enemy.

"Hey Polites, how do you always greet the world with open arms?"

He ignores the blood soaking him as screams grief and anger ringing clearly in his voice while tears stream down his face mixing with red making it look like he is crying blood.

"Its easy for me to greet the world with open arms when you are my world. How could I refuse any part of you?"

How can he care about greeting the world with open arms when his world is dead? He will never see his mischievous grin when he has a prank in mind or hear his laughter so full of life. An arrow lodges in his shoulder but he ignores it continuing to fight.

"That and well this world could always use more kindness. I like to think that I can make a difference in this world that has so much pain and hate. Being kind can change everything."

Odysseus trusted the ceasefire and it ended up killing him, kindness is not possible now that they killed him like cowards. He stumbles his vision starting to turn fuzzy as another arrow strikes his leg.

"I hope you never change Polites."

At last his body can't take anymore and he collapses to the ground. Tears continue falling as his vision fades to black.

I'm sorry Ody.. I couldn't stay kind like you wanted...

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

Eurylochus and Polites head over to their meeting spot waiting for Odysseus to join them. As they settle down by the olive tree when something small and hard smacks them on the head. They look up and sure enough Odysseus sits there cackling like the gremlin he is holding a handful of pebbles.

They glance at each other smirking before Eurylochus grabs hold of Odysseus leg and tugs him down. Odysseus tumbles to the ground with a yelp and it's their turn to laugh. He stands up brushing the dirt of his chiton and acts annoyed but he is barely containing his own laughter.

"yeah, yeah laugh all you want I was going to share something with you but now I might not since your being jerks."

Predictably the laughter stops as Eurylochus tries to act like he isn't curious while Polites doesn't even try to hide it.

"what is it? Can't you please tell us! We're sorry for laughing!"

Odysseus acts like he is thinking about it just to watch them get impatient and finally breaks once Polites brings out his puppy dog eyes. Odysseus laughs and takes off the bag he had on him.

"okay I'll show you."

He reaches in and pulls out three cups and a wineskin.

"I snuck some of the good wine from the cellar at home."

Both Eurylochus and Polites look interested. They were still considered too young for wine. Polites does look a bit conflicted and Odysseus elbows him.

"Come on Polites live a little!"

Polites rolls his eyes with a bright grin as Odysseus hands out the cups.

""I'm not that bad Ody! I'm just not as much of a troublemaker as you!"

Eurylochus snorts with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Yeah right we all know you can cause just as much trouble as Odysseus."

Polites gasps dramatically trying to hold back laughter along with Eurylochus and Odysseus.

"Lies, I'm just a perfect little angel!"

They can't hold it in anymore and all burst into laughter. It takes a while before they calm down even then they are a little out of breath. The don't mind though because this moment is so happy with all of them together, they wouldn't trade this for the world. Odysseus pours some wine into their cups. Polites raises his cup with a grin.

"Let's toast to having each other's backs!"

Eurylochus and Odysseus raise their cups as well letting them clink together.

"No matter what happens and where we go, we will always have each other!"

All their voices ring out together as they drink down the wine. They spend the rest of the night laughing and joking occasionally wrestling. By the end they are curled up asleep in a tangled heap with cheeks aching from smiling so much.

The next morning they will come to regret the wine when they get a stern lecture while having pounding headaches but they will still treasure the memory of that night and the promise they made.

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

Eurylochus was right there when Odysseus was cut down, he was right there and yet he couldn't do anything to stop it. He follows as the men carry Odysseus back to camp and his initial denial and shock fade away leaving only overwhelming grief. He should be heading back into battle but instead he thinks of how Polites must know of Odysseus death and he attempts to push down his grief.

Polites will need him there and he refuses to leave him alone in his grief. While Odysseus is was his brother and dear friend he knows Odysseus meant so much more to Polites. While Odysseus loved Polite in his own way the love Polites had was left mostly unrequited once Penelope had entered the picture.

He leaves his sword in his tent and heads towards Polites hearing whispers along the way of his reaction to Odysseus death. He speeds up very much concerned about his friend. He had expected Polites to be devasted and grieving, for him to hide in his tent but to his shock and horror he spots Polites in full armor and a terrifying look on his face. It shows anger beyond anything he had expected from Polites of all people. He steps up to block his path.

"Polites please don't do this! This isn't what Odysseus would want!"

"Odysseus is dead! They took him from us, they took him from me!" I'm going out there and nothing you say or do will stop me!"

Eurylochus is sent reeling at the pure venom in Polites voice. This is a side of Polites he has never before seen and it terrifies him just how angry he is. But even with all the anger he can hear the underlying grief that is no doubt threatens to drown him. He continues to plead for Polites to stop but quickly realizes its useless as his friend continues onward.

Eurylochus curses himself for leaving his sword behind, he had expected to be comforting Polites not fighting. Polites had always focused mostly on being a medic to avoid hurting others as much as possible so the fact he is rushing into battle without even stopping to grieve leaves him with a sinking feeling in his gut. Polites is being beyond reckless and he knows its up to him to make sure he doesn't end up killing himself.

He grabs his sword as quickly as he can before rushing back into the fight searching frantically for Polites in the chaos of battle. There- he spots him in the crowd and he can feel hope start to well up at the sight of his friend who is still alive.

That hope falls flat as an arrow strikes Polites in the leg and he staggers before collapsing. Eurylochus carves his way through the crowd with desperation he rarely ever feels as fear starts creeping in.

no, no please don't let him die!

He finally reaches him and his knees hit the dirt hard as he turns Polites over trying to assess the damage if he is still alive. He flinches at the bloody tear tracks and glossy eyes.

"no..no Polites you can't leave me too!"

He searches for a heartbeat no matter how faint ignoring the logical part telling him that Polites is already gone. He can't...he can't be the last one left. Not only had he failed to keep them both alive but Polites also died alone. Polites always hated being alone yet he failed to be there for him.

He holds onto Polite's already cooling hand and something inside him cracks and breaks.He holds onto Polites as a few tears fall onto Polites as a sort of numb feeling spreads through him. He knows exactly what's happening, he is going into shock, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Eurylochus is bigger than Polites as he cradles Polites close reminded of how both Odysseus and Polites complained about how unfair it was that he was taller than them. In return he teased them about being shorter. He knows they are not short he is simply really tall but that didn't stop him.

"No matter what happens and where we go, we will always have each other!"

The memory of the day they all swore to always be there for each other only serves to make him feel heavier with grief. Maybe he should let himself join them it wouldn't be hard to let the enemy kill him and then they could joke around again, together.

He is reminded of the chaotic fighting surrounding him once again when someone blocks a strike aimed at him and he can't help the small part of him that's disappointed as he looks up to see Elpenor. Elpenor who looks devasted as he looks towards Polites. Elpenor who saw Polites as a father figure.

"Eurylochus please don't give up, everyone needs you!"

That's right, he is the only one left, as second in command he has to take the lead and keep everyone safe. He has to think of men that are left which means he can't let himself join Polites and Odysseus yet. He pieces himself back together as best he can be and takes a deep breath before gently letting go of Polites and stands up sword in hand.

"Okay.. let's get this over with."

He spends the rest of the battle fighting not only enemy soldiers but the grief and rage trying to drown him. He will not let himself give in and get himself killed. The enemy finally retreats and Eurylochus is finally able to go back to Polites.

He carefully picks him up making sure to close Polites eyes and starts heading back to camp as small cracks start appearing in his defenses letting in a trickle of self hate. He ignores everyone heading straight towards Odysseus tent and lays Polites down beside him.

His breath hitches as a wave of emotion hits him seeing both of his childhood friends laying there next to each other. He pushes through instead grabbing a bowl of water and a washcloth. Gently he removes their helmets and armor before washing away all the blood and grime from battle.

Being clean leaves them looking at peace and he can almost pretend they are just sleeping but the blood stained clothes remind him of the reality. They are dead and nothing will bring them back.

It's too much and finally his defenses crumble and a tidal wave of grief, self hate, and worst of all anger. Anger towards Polites and Odysseus for dying and leaving him behind. He collapses on his knees and chokes on sobs.

They left him alone and no matter how much he hates himself for it, he can't help but blame them especially Polites. At the same time he blames himself for failing to keep them safe. He should have reacted faster to stop the attack on Odysseus. He should have never left his sword at his tent making him waste precious time retrieving it, time that could have been used saving Polites.

It takes hours for him to calm down enough to think beyond his devastation. He looks at Polites before he unties Polites headband leaving the curls to fall over his face with nothing holding them back. The headband is tied around the hilt of his sword, a reminder to never let go of his sword again until the war is over and he gets the others home.

He then unpins the golden owl brooch he always wore, one of his most treasures objects because he got it as a way to be closer with Athena, and clips it to his chiton. A new more dangerous anger wells up, anger towards Athena. He knows it's dangerous and will keep those feelings locked up tight but shouldn't Athena have kept her warrior safe? Why did she let him die like that?

Eurylochus washes his face hoping to get rid of majority of the evidence from crying and takes a deep breath before heading out. He swears to himself to get the others home if it's the last thing he does. It's the least he can do after failing both of his brothers. Everybody notices the red headband on his sword fluttering in the wind and the owl brooch that stay with him the entire way home.

[marilynthornhilllover]

can you please make a fanfic we’re Larissa dies like in the show then wife reader makes and attends the funeral, but when she gets home she realizes that the front door to her and Larissa’s home was unlocked so she goes in slowly but she sees Larissa at the kitchen table drinking wine and Larissa says something like “miss me darling” and then some smut if you want. ❤️💋

Filthy love

Larissa weems x Fem reader

Warning: Angst, grief, sadness, slight anger, pain, lots of talk about depression, faking of death, smut, fingering, cunniligus, usage of toys such as : vibrator and strap, slight choking, kinda soft sex, praise kink, stalker kink if you squint, slight mommy kink, slight degradation kink.

A/n: I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who got me to 1,005 followers!! I'm so so so grateful and happy. I'm looking forward to continue writing fanfics for you all, thank you for interacting with my work and blog and simply liking my content and i am blessed to have each and everyone of you on board with me, sending love to you all also I hope you enjoy this 1k following special fanfic 👀💖.

There wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to describe the pain and emptiness that you were feeling as you stood over larissa's closed casket. There were no more tears left to cry. All you felt was emptiness, a never ending suffocating cycle of pure sadness, filled with rage. They say death has no sting and that it sneaks up on you and it's absolutely true. Nothing compares to what you felt currently.

You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't hear anything. It's like being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no air yet your still not exactly drowning, you don't want to drown but you refuse to be rescued out of the toxicity of the air.

You felt utterly numb. It's as if you too weren't alive, like a part of you died with her, and is to stay forever buried with her. Soon you'll have to thrown the first batch of sand on her grave, plant flowers two months later, listen to people express their condolences and state how larissa was a ' sunshine in a word filled with gloom'. Correct - absolutely correct. She was your sunshine in your world of gloom.

Truth be told you didn't deserve larissa - Or maybe larissa didn't deserve you. You'd always argue, she'd always stay at work. Nothing was simple, everything was so complicated behind the thick walls of your home. Fake bright smiles where somtimes even the Toothpaste couldn't clean the disgusting words you'd both spit at eachother behind close doors just to apologize minutes after with kept hatred inside.

It's as if you weren't there, but she was still here. It's not possible. She no longer existed and you wished you could swap places. She died so you can live but really and truly you didn't want to be here either.

The word is toxic and exhausting and larissa kept things joyful for you, always ready to sacrifice her happiness to see you smile. The memories of the good kept attacking your brain, handing in return instant headaches.

The first time you both laid eyes on eachother.

The time she asked you out on your first ever date.

The time she asked you to be her girlfriend.

The time she proposed.

The time she asked you to move in.

Right until the day you both said ' I do' the only soft, truthful words to ever be said to eachother. Maybe if larissa was here she offered up her happiness. You felt everything at once. It was all overwhelming. You wanted to be no where and here at the same time. The sadness you felt inside was unbearable yet no tears dared to escape..... they all stayed dried.

With a sigh you sniffed and made your way towards your seat, sitting besides Wednesday you flicked a warm smile towards her, you weren't sure if it was quite excalty warm though, after all your warmth was laying with her hands on her chest in a small, itchy casket. Larissa hated small spaces, if she was alive she wouldn't even be lying there now..... and that's how you knew she's really dead.

Because in the back of your head, there was a part of you that believed this was all a joke and that maybe thos was all a cruel prank to be played.

" are you ok?" You turned to look at the small girl besides you, forcing a smile you nodded. She definitely didn't believed you, to be honest who would?. Calling your heart broken would be an understatement, you don't know how celion dion sang that song because your heart definitely will not be going on without larissa. If you could have took her hand in death you would have.

"Til death do us part"

Wednesday truly cared for larissa, under her tough goth act there laid a heart of gold for the sapphire, Elsa blond hair and beautifully paled skin beauty.

You were once again broken from your trance as the pastor began to do his speech.

This you realized was your Roman empire, your own wife's death. You should really he celebrating her life but she hardly enjoyed her life. She was too tied up with work and you being on her back 24/7 percent of the time. She wasn't allowed space to breathe, well now she has more than enough.

After the pastor was done doing his speech you stepped on stage to say your urology - your last words. Taking a steady breath, and a long exhale you positioned the paper infront of you on the podium as you tried your best not to allow the tears their accompanied time frame.

" firstly, i want to thank you all for truly being here today so that we can honor our beloved and bright spark, Larissa Weems..... larissa was many things.... she was a principal, to some a English teacher. She was a daughter, a lover, a role model etc but t-to." You sighed as you looked down steading out your breath as your voice broke.

" to me larissa was much more than that in my life. I was a field of dead flowers before I met larissa, a-and she was like the sun that came out, bringing both warmth and healing into my life. She was and will forever be my hero that wore heels and my sunlight that brighten and made my life and day better. S-she never failed to make me smile or laugh, even giggle. I know to many of you she was so much more than just a sun.... she was the entire world even universe. And as we lay her to rest today I hope we all find the time to heal and be storng, because that's who larissa was, storng....."

Everyone sniffed, some clapped, most breaking down in tears. You never ment for anyone to shed even more tears or for any hearts to be broken any more than they already were you just needed everyone to find peace just as much as you wanted to find it as well.

After the funeral was over you hugged everyone goodbye and wished them a safe drive home as you also headed home, already planning to sleep because you couldn't accept the pain that you will feel after arriving home and realizing the house is empty.

As you pulled into the driveway you noticed the door looked pushed open. You weren't in the correct headspace but you knew for sure weren't crazy, you remember closing and locking the door perfectly well after leaving. After switching off the car and getting out you carefully walked up to the house - the mansion.

You fired all employees for three months with pay since you needed the time and house for yourself to simply be human and do human things which in this situation will be to grieve. Upon arrival you inspected the door before pushing it open and stepping inside slowly. If there was an intruder you'd rather catch them in the act, then call the police.

" hello?? Who's there? I suggest you just surrender now or I won't hesitate to call the cops on yo-" as you rounded the corner of the kitchen you saw larissa sitting on top of the countertop with her heels long forgotten on the carpet of the dinning room chair. Her lipstick was smudge as her legs swinged back and forth. She looked...... well not dead obviously. You knew for sure you weren't dreaming and she definitely looked very alive.

She moaned softly as she finished her wine and placed the glass down ontop the counter with a small cling. She sighed as a smirk was quickly painted across her face. You didn't know how to react. Maybe you should scream and run for your life, be happy and joyful or to maybe stay sad just incase this was your own mind manipulating you into a maladaptive dream land trance.

" hello darling....." She spoke in a low husky voice as her eyes flicked up towards yours, they were dark and swirling with desires for many things - things that you knew of and knew not of.

" did you miss me?" She asked as her eyebrows quirked up in a teasing manner. Your body stayed frozen as she jumped off of the counter and strides towards you very slowly. Her hips swayed as the smirk remained on her face. You could hear your rapid heartbeat in your chest with every closer step she took towards you, not breaking eye contact nor curving her lips into a non - smirk.

She finally stopped right infront of you as she tilted her head to the side, inspecting your face, possibly trying her best to read your every emotion as well as she can. As you looked into her eyes you saw, warmth, passion, love, peace, joy, everything that made larissa unique was swirling around in her sapphire iris, you felt your connection spark that you had with her ignite as her hands made their way around your waist pulling you flush against her body.

" I'm alive, my love. Long story but right now I think I'd rather cherish you" she whispered against your earlobe, gently pressing a kiss towards your neck before leaning back to look at your face, but again it remained blank because you did not have any reactions or emotions lingering on your face or in your eyes. It's like you were a statue, frozen before time.

Larissa chuckled softly, her hands making their upwards your chest Slightly grouping your breast making a moan escape your from the back of your throat. She grinned as she pushed you up against the counter. Despite all odds and questions that needed to be asked about everything that happened you needed her badly, she was like a drug that you needed desperately to live. You grabbed her cheeks and forced her lips against yours.

It took her by surprise but she quickly kissed back with the same equal amount of passion. You opened your mouth and gaved her access as she gladly took it by slipping in her tongue and using it to her advantage. Her hands traveled down your body wildly as she squeezed your ass and grabbed your hips harshly as she picked you up and took you to the bedroom.

She kicked the door open with her feet as she switched on the lamp light before throwing you onto the bed aggressively. She crawled up towards you and reconnected both your lips again in a heated, sloppy desperate kiss that spoke so much words that the lips could never utter.

You helped her take off her clothing as she helped you in return.

" fuck I need to taste you darling" she mumbled before spreading your thighs apart and smirking. She bit her bottom lip as she admired your baby pink lace panties before proceeding to pulling it to the side. She groaned as she saw your arousal spreaded all around your cunt as your puffy clit stared back at her. Larissa wasted no time as she enveloped her mouth onto your small bud immediately setting a fast sucking pace.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your hands immediately flew to her hair pulling her even closer.

" your so fucking delicious darling" she purred as the vibrations from her speech made your shiver. Larissa used her hands to hold your thighs open to prevent you from squirming and bucking your hips as her tongue flicked back and forth against your clit in a rapid pace.

" f-fuck, larissa, I'm gonna cum." You whispered as she chuckled darkly, her hot breath on your cunt was driving you crazy. She knew fully well what she was doing to you. Your stomach twisted as you felt larissas fingers trace slow steady circles around your entrance that caused your back to arch.

" so needy for mommy huh baby, you need me to be alive to fuck you senseless" your brain began to get fuzzy, the effect larissa had on you was dangerous - deadly dangerous. Your grip in her hair tighten as your nails digged deeper into her scalp. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to violate your clit endless in the most oragam way possible.

You felt the knot in your stomach tied as it was ready to explode. Your other free hand gripped the sheets as you swore you were gonna leave holes in it.

" such a dirty slut for mommy darling" she cooed as she slowly thrusted her two slender fingers into you at once before pulling them out, and that was all it took before you cummed in her mouth. She removed her lips from your abused bud as she gently kissed it before leaving open mouth kisses on your hot sweaty skin all the way up to your lips.

She watched as you tried to catch your breath as you gently shivered.

" I'm not done yet princess" she whispered before leaning over towards the side table and pulling open the drawer, her hand rumbled around in there for a while before a pink clip on button vibrator cake evident in your eyes. Larissa smirked before snaking her way back down to your pussy. She took both sides of your underwear and pulled it down as you lifted your hips to assist her.

You spread your legs even wider for her. She looked up at you with an evil expression before attaching the vibrator to your sensitive clit. As soon as she turned on the button you collapsed onto the bed in pleasure. You moaned as her hand wrapped around your neck. She leaned down closely to your face, her lips ghosting yours. You leaned in to place a kiss onto her lips but she pulled away chuckling.

" such a needy little girl, letting me do what I want with her needy cunt" you gasped as she slipped her two slender fingers into your cunt, your eyes rolled back as you let out a sigh of satisfaction. You could hear as her fingers went in and out of your wet cunt with squelching noises and your sweet moans and whimpers for her. You were her bitch to fuck.

Her hold on your neck tighten even more as her pace picked up to something more brutal. You cried out as she curled her fingers in you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again that had you going dumb for her and crying. She loved the way your greedy cunt clench led down around her fingers. Your hips rocked back and forth desperate to meet her thrust.

" Come on darling, cum again for me" she cooed as she picked up her pace, pushing her fingers deeper into you lr cunt past knuckle length.

" OH GOD! MOMMY! P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, NEED IT SO BAD" you screamed as larissa pinched your nipple before slapping it, feeling as your body quirked and trashed beneath her, as your cunt spasms around her fingers. You wanted to try to hold off your oragsm a little while longer, not wanting to seem ' truly desperate ' as a whore who just needed her pussy fucked every second of the day by her wife but you simply couldn't.

" I know you want to" she whispered in a sultry voice, and that was the end of you. Your back arched as you let out the most pornographic moan ever to be heard as you coated larissas fingers with your cream. She continued to fuck you through your oragsm until you couldn't take the overstiumlation anymore. She removed her fingers and cleaned them off with her tongue, keeping her eyes on you.

The way her tongue swirled around her everyone finger, licking up your juices that ran down her hand made your cunt throb. You gulp as you cleared your throat.

" I wanna ride you" you spoke lowly and larissa scoffed.

" go on, get the strap then you can fuck yourself on mommy big cock, maybe if we're lucky I can put a baby in you, get you all full and round with my baby" she groaned.

the thought along had you sprinting towards the closest to get the biggest strap with the most deepest curve possible.

And with this you knew tonight was going to be a very very long night....... hopefully one with pleasure and maybe when that's finished you can get the answers you deserve, because you didn't deserve all that pain and heartache.

[milaisreading]

hi! Ok, what about fic where manager have to wear something like mascot costume (like ears and tail) or something like maid dress (you can choose anything you want) all day because of JFU and fan service for BLLK TV during the NEO egoists league arc. And when boy see her in this costume, they are frustrated, freaks out and try their best to cover her and get away from the cameras.

Author: I hope you like this and thank you sm for the request🩷 stay safe and healthy.

PS: I really hope people feel included in these stories, that's why I mostly avoid giving any physical descriptions of the reader. Also, English is like my 3rd language and I hope you all aren't too annoyed if I am repetitive with some words. Mostly when I use the words blush or turn red I don't want to allude to the skin tone, but I try to describe the situation in a way that would make sense to me as well. Sorry for that and I will try to work on my vocabulary a little bit more. I am so sorry if smn felt left out bcs of my wording 🙇🏻‍♀️🩷

Warnings ⚠️ : Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

When (Y/n) signed up for the Blue Lock project to help out, she knew there would be hard and easy times. She knew she will be a lot bussier with taking care of not just the team, but also running errands for Anri and Ego from time to time. But with all the exhausting and draining tasks she had, she was greatful for the friends she made at the project, all the connections and fun times that came with it. But and a big but, (Y/n) didn't know that Blue Lock would turn into a reality show with... certain demands from the JFU.

"Respectfully, no way in hell am I wearing that!" (Y/n) shrieked at the clothing item Anri was holding. Ego kept quiet, pitying the girl a little.

"Come on (Y/n)! The JFU did that fanservice polls and the fans really want to see you in this dress... it's not even revealing." Anri tried to argue. And true, the maid dress wasn't anything too extreme. A normal maid dress that went to her knees, nothing revealing and a simple black color, with a white apron and some head decoration.

"Still! I never agreed to this! I don't want anyone to see me in that! And why aren't the boys wearing it as well, seems unfair!" (Y/n) said, feeling embarrassed to be wearing such a dress. Anri shook her head and walked closer to the girl, pressing the item into her hands.

"You came in first place when asked who should wear it. Rin was second by like a 400 votes difference."

"400?!" (Y/n) cried out, feeling betrayed by the audience.

"Just wear it for half a day. I tried to negotiate with the JFU and we came to a agreement for just half a day." Ego said.

'I hate it here!! The others will just make fun of me!' (Y/n) thought, wanting to cry.

"It looks adorable!!" Anri cheered as she finally got the dress on the girl.

"Can't we just get Rin to wear this?" (Y/n) asked for the 10th time as Anri pulled her out of the changing room.

"No, no we can't." The woman said back.

"Get Rin to do what?!" Isagi asked as he walked out of a room. The boy looked at (Y/n) for a few moments, blinking as he finally started realizing what she was wearing.

"(Y/n), why are you wearing that?!" Isagi exclaimed as his face turned a bright red, catching Bachira and Baro's attention.

"I-I didn't want to, I was forced!" (Y/n) said back, causing Anri to roll her eyes.

"Don't you love the fans?"

"Not this much!"

'She looks so adorable in that! What a great day to be alive and witness this!' Isagi thought as he covered up his cheeks.

"What happened with (Y/n)?! Do I have to beat someone up-" Bachira's grin soon faded and his jaw dropped a little when he saw the girl, face flushing to match Isagi's.

'So... so adorable!'

Baro peeked outside too only to freeze up at the sight of the manager.

'I... this is a dream? Or maybe not?' Baro pinched his cheeks to make sure everything was real.

"Wh-what?! I told you this was rediculous!" (Y/n) yelled, expecting them to tease her.

'Adorable!' Baro thought, suddenly getting shy as Bachira ran to hug her.

"You look so cute, (Y/n)! I could just eat you!"

"Bachira, you are making it worse!" (Y/n) yelled, startled by his sudden hug as Nari cheered.

"Told you it looks fine."

"Bachir, let her go!"

"You little piece of shit!" Isagi and Baro yelled as they went in to grab to separate the two.

'I want a hug too...' The two thought, jealous that Bachira got it first.

Otoya fell to the ground and covered up his nosebleed.

'Thank you God. Thank you for making me witness this!' The green/white-haired boy thought, feeling tears of joy cloud his eyes.

"Otoya! Are you alright?!" (Y/n) panicked as she tried to walk to him, but was stopped by Yukimiya standing in the way.

"He is just being weird, don't worry. So when will you be wearing this again?" The brown-haired boy asked as (Y/n) shook her head at that thought.

"Hopefully never. Also can you stop touching my hair, Karasu?" The girl wondered as the said boy kept patting her head.

"But you look so adorable! We need to give you headpats." The boy declared as Yukimiya nodded his head.

"Wait, I want to do it too!" Otoya added as he finally composed himself. Meanwhile Kurona and Hiori were standing off to the side, faces red as they admired the girl's costume.

'So adorable! She looks better than any model!' Kurona thought.

'Ahh~ I live being in Blue Lock~' Hiori sighed dreamily.

She was just doing some pick ups for the medic room when Gagamaru, Niko and Rin walked by, and seeing her in the costume really flustered them.

"I-I... you look pretty (Y/n). Like a princess!" Gagamaru had exclaimed nervously as (Y/n) thanked him, clearly just as flustered as he was.

"You look..." Rin started and then looked away, clearly unsure how to say it in a smooth way.

'She is so adorable! Just like she always is, but now she is even cuter! Thank you God for not sending me off to Spain too.' Rin thought, too shy to look her back in the eyes. And in that moment Niko started stuttering something out, but the more he looked at (Y/n), the blurrier her form was getting.

'So cute!'

"Niko! Gagamaru, can you bring me some water?!" (Y/n) exclaimed as she caught the black-haired boy before he could fall to the ground. The boy quickly nodded his head, forcing himself to look away and get the water.

'Lucky bastard!' Rin tsked as (Y/n) held the boy's figure.

"So.... how long do you have to wear that?" Kunigami asked, covering up his cheeks.

"For like an hour more... then I am free." (Y/n) explained as she fixed up Chigiri's hair, the said boy enjoying the attention he was getting from her.

'My manager taking care of me while dressed in a cute costume... I won at life!' The redhead sighed as Reo kept staring at her intensely.

'Ahh~~ what a day to be alive! Blue Lock is the best place on earth!' Reo thought with a silly grin as Nagi stood to the side with his phone.

'Sorry (Y/n), but God knows when I will see you like this again.' Nagi thought as he snapped some pics of the girl.

"Why are you even taking pictures?" The girl asked as she turned to the albino.

"Blackmail." He blinked and nervously answered.

'Idiot!' Reo and Kunigami thought.

"Blackmail? Literally anyone who follows Blue Lock will see me like this! What's the use of the Blackmail?"

"Hold up! Rewind that, what do you mean everyone will see you?!" Aryu spoke up, deciding to finally stop staring.

"It's like fanservice for the next episode or something." The girl explained, causing them to go into panic mode.

"So... so other dudes will see you like that?!" Chigiri questioned, turning around to face her.

"Yeah..."

"Absolutely not! Take this!" Kunigami said as he handed her his jacket.

"Take mine too." Aryu added, dropping it over her.

"I will just be the wall then." Nagi said in annoyance as he stood in front of (Y/n), shielding her from the camera Ego had put up.

"Reo, can you somehow buy this episode out or something?" Chigiri whispered to the purple-haired boy.

"I could try. Nobody outside of Blue Lock should see our manager like this."

[nomoreusername]

In My Heart

Pairing:Newt x gender neutral reader

Summary:When survivors guilt hits you extra hard one night Newt comforts you.

By the time I realized it was happening I couldn't do anything to stop it. What seemed to be a million tears poured from my eyes.

Even though it was late I didn't want to be here. I don't cry so doing it near people feels wrong. I'm the optimist.

How can I be optimistic now though? Every time I close my eyes I remember those I've lost, and it takes everything inside me not to scream. Sometimes I am filled with nothing but guilt that I get to live, and my friends are dead. It's nothing more than the luck of the draw. If Gally hadn't gotten stung Chuck would have lived, and he might have. If Winston was immune he could be able to wake up tomorrow. If Minho wasn't in danger Jeff wouldn't have saved him, and so on.

So what did I do differently to deserve to live?

As these dark thoughts overwhelmed my head I started pacing. Despite it being dangerous I needed to be alone. I was just sick of being around everyone breathing right now.

Because I am one of those people. I am alive, and almost everyone else I knew is dead.

I found a small rock and leaned against it. As I did I let it all out. Every single emotion I hid was finally here, and there was no stopping it.

My heart felt heavy as I sat there below the stars. Were my friends stars now? Were they in the sky watching me? Did they hate me for living or were they looking after me?

"Hey,"Someone whispered, tapping my shoulder. I wiped my eyes and turned around to see Newt with a solum look on his face.

"Hi,"I managed to say.

"Can I sit?"He asked quietly. I just nodded before staring at the ground. My friends could be in the ground right now, rotting and on their way to becoming skeletons.

"Survivors guilt,"He whispered. I hesitantly nodded.

"How did you know?"I mumbled.

"It comes to everyone sooner or later,"He whispered, closing his eyes.

"I just-don't know what I did to deserve to live. They fought just as hard to live. What sets us apart?"I mumbled, pulling my knees to my chest and wiping my eyes.

"Do you really want to know what makes us different than them?"He asked slowly, sitting beside me.

"If you have an answer then please,"I murmured, feeling more and more drained each second.

"Nothing,"He stated.

"What do you mean?"I whispered, glancing up at him and looking at him through my blurred tears.

"It was luck and circumstance. It's sort of a messed up circle. Gally getting stung killed Chuck which killed him. Minho being in danger killed Jeff. If Winston was immune he'd be here. The people who stayed v.s the people who ran, both options were unclear. It's dumb luck and the different reactions. Nothing more. Nothing less,"He answered, his voice gentle yet firm and sure of himself.

Hearing him say what I had always been thinking seemed to pull just an inch of pressure off of my chest. I had feared that there was something wrong with me. Still, there was another thing I needed and answer for.

"Do you think they hate us for it?"I asked.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he placed his arms around me and pulled me into his chest.

"I can't answer that, but I can tell you this. They're our friends. Some of them gave their lives for us. That's the way we want to remember them. Not their death but who they were. Strong, loving, and kind,"He whispered, rubbing my back. I couldn't help but tremble as I was unable to respond.

"They haven't left us, Y/N. They never will."

"How could you be sure of that?"I asked, not moving away from him.

"Because as long as we carry them in our hearts we carry them with us."

"I always will,"I swore, seeming to run out of tears.

"I know, love. I know,"He whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I leaned against him and felt exhaustion start to overcome me.

"Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up,"He promised. I took his word for it and allowed my eyes to flutter shut.

Only months later I would have to keep his words with me more than ever. Because unfortunately the only way I ended up being able to hold him was in my heart.

[thecatsaesthetics]

But Rhys took Feyre's choice away in ACOSF and is as bad as Tamlin

Disclaimer - I am going to state up front SJM shouldn't have told this story through Nesta's POV. It is an incredibly complex storyline in it's own right and deserved to be told through Feyre's POV.

However, fans tend to make several claims about the story that I want to either debunk or combat. You can still hate the storyline (I hate how it was told as well) but twisting canon to suit your own narrative isn’t right.

(I am using this timeline for the series, which is the most in-depth timeline I have ever found.)

Let's begin

What actually happened in canon:

Rhys and Feyre were actively attempting to have a baby since the end of ACOFAS (December 21st). Feyre announces her pregnancy to the group 16 days into the start of ACOSF. She says she is "two months along". ACOSF is canonically 10 months after ACOFAS. Meaning Feyre and Rhys conceive Nyx in August.

31 days into ACOSF Rhys and Feyre find out via Madja Nyx has wings. Feyre would be heading into her second trimester. Rhys knows the baby wings pose a problem (as does Madja). Madja informed Feyre the birth would be "more difficult" but does not state the baby will kill her. Rhys sets out on finding a way to save Feyre and the baby.

33 days into ACOSF Rhys goes to Drakon and Miryam to ask about the wings. They give him nothing but sad looks.

40 days into ACOSF Helion visits and is asked by Rhys about the wings and says he will look into it.

43 days into ACOSF Nesta, in a fit of rage, tells Feyre her baby is going to die and kill her.

So canonically Feyre does not know for 12 days. So, around two weeks, Feyre is unaware the chances she will die in labor are incredibly heightened.

That is really important, it is not months they are keeping this from Feyre. It also doesn't seem likely Rhys or any of the IC would have let Feyre give birth without knowing what was happening. It also seems likely Rhys was pending more information from Helion who had 3 days to look into things before Nesta had her outburst.

While again it's not explicitly said I believe SJMs implication is that Rhys was exhausting all efforts prior to telling Feyre. Which is something Feyre would have done herself, since we know she wanted Nyx, and rather then let Feyre's pregnancy be ruined by fear (especially if an answer was out there) Rhys decides to take the burden on himself.

Is it necessarily right? I don't think so, but is it done to specifically control Feyre? (Like Tamlin's actions were) No. It's done because Rhys cannot bring himself to take Feyre's happiness away from her. Feyre is described as being so happy in ACOSF, she finally has everything she's ever wanted. She has her mate, her family, her home, security, and is awaiting the arrival of her baby. Feyre has her gotten her "happy ending" and who would want to take that from someone? This is something Rhys was struggling with in ACOFAS, the idea that he does not deserve to be happy with Feyre.

I hate that we get it told through Nesta and Cassian's POV, because honestly this would have been a good Feysand plotline and would have dealt with the remaining issues that were hinted at in ACOFAS.

Commonly incorrect statements by the fandom

"Rhysand forced Feyre to stay pregnant because he valued the baby's life over hers" -

This is canonically not true. Feyre is the one who wanted to get pregnant. Ignoring this is missing the point entirely, Feyre wanted to start her family.

Second, while Rhys clearly loves Nyx it seems his concern was for her and not for Nyx:

Cassian squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. “Why won’t you tell her?” Rhys’s throat worked. “Because I can’t bring myself to give her that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she puts a hand on her belly.” His voice shook. “It is fucking eating me alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but … there is no one to bargain with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do to save her.”

His concern is for Feyre and the fact that she is going to die while in labor. He doesn't even mention Nyx dying, and it's said Nyx will die in the labor as well.

"Rhys prevented Feyre from getting an abortion" -

So first we need to ask ourself, are abortions a thing in Pyrthian? We don't get any mentions of them and fae children are rare. I would suspect in Pyrthian they aren't a thing, but maybe in the human lands.

Second, by the time Rhys and Feyre find out about the wings it's been 31 days into ACOSF and when the baby was announced she was two months pregnant, which is frustrating because we don't know if she means two months on the dot or two months and a few days. It's then 15 more days till the wings are discovered she is anywhere between 11/12 weeks pregnant.

It's important to remember pregnancies are not defined by months, they are defined by weeks. If you are 11/12 weeks pregnant the abortion you get is more complicated then at 8 or 9 weeks. So it seems even if she could have an abortion (if that's a thing in Prythian) that she would have had to pass the fetal tissue.

Remember the problem isn't that the baby is sick or causing Feyre to be sick. Feyre is described as being healthy and radiant all throughout ACOSF. The pregnancy isn't the issue, it's the birth. The wings will supposably get caught and not be able to pass through the birthing canal. So even if she had an abortion those wings are getting caught and preventing the tissue from passing. We later see the size of the wings don't matter, because Feyre gives birth preterm and it still kills her.

And it will be challenging enough during a birth when the baby is alive but if they preform an abortion you're talking dead tissue being stuck in Feyre as they attempt to pull it out of her piece by piece.

That could kill her as well.

So when Rhys says "nothing I can do to save her life" he means it. As long as Feyre gives birth/passes those wings in her fae body she's dead.

The only in universe solution is for Feyre to transform back into an Illyrian form (I'll get into that later). That's it, nothing else could save her and in fact what happens is Nesta bargains for Feyre's life and then permanently changes her body to be Illyrian. So the solution was to shapeshift.

"Nesta told Feyre because she thought it was wrong"

That's not true, in fact Nesta agreed to say nothing and was later sorry for even telling Feyre. So no she did not tell Feyre because she thought it was an injustice.

Nesta was bitter and hurt by other things that happened (I am not going into it) and decided to hurt her sister back. She told her in the most brutal and awful way possible.

She easily could have caused Feyre to go into preterm labor and didn't care if that happened. If Feyre had gone into preterm labor with no solution to get the baby out then she would have died.

"Feyre's choice was taken from her"

So if we rule out abortion, and go with shapeshifting I don't see how anyone concludes that the 12 days Feyre does not know takes that choice from her. Even for the 12 days with the abortion idea, she still could have done it. She makes a choice not to, Feyre does not go into labor unaware of the risks.

Going back to shapeshifting, Rhys says this:

“So let her change back into an Illyrian to bear the babe.” Rhys’s face was stark. “Madja has put a ban on any more shape-shifting. She says that to alter Feyre’s body in any way right now could put the baby at risk. On the chance that it could be bad for the baby, Feyre is forbidden to so much as change the color of her hair until after the birth.”

So originally it's Madja who says shape-shifting is banned but sorry I do not see how Madja is going to control Feyre. During the announcement scene we get this from Feyre:

Nesta angled her head at her sister. “So you can’t do magic while pregnant?” Feyre winced. “I can, but given my unusual set of gifts, I’m not sure how it might impact the baby. Winnowing is fine, but some other powers, when we’re still so early in the pregnancy, could strain my body dangerously.”

Feyre is given the medical opinion of Madja on her doing magic and chooses to follow it.

And the nail in the coffin that it wasn't Feyre's choice is the birth scene itself:

“There is nothing we can do,” Madja said. “Cutting the babe out of her will kill her.” “Cutting it out?” Nesta demanded, earning a sharp glare from Rhys. Madja ignored her tone. “An incision along her abdomen, even one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It’s never been successful. And even with Feyre’s healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened her—” “Do it,” Feyre managed to say, the words weighted with pain. “Feyre,” Rhys objected. “The babe likely won’t survive,” Madja said, voice gentle but no-nonsense. “It’s too small yet. We risk both of you.” “All of you,” Cassian breathed, eyes on Rhys. “Do it,” Feyre said, and her voice was that of the High Lady. No fear. Only determination for the life of the babe within her. Feyre looked up at Rhys. “We have to.”

While it isn't explicitly mentioned, the scene prior is discussions about saving Nyx not about saving Feyre. Madja says "we risk both of you" implying their is a way to just save Feyre. That way would be shapeshifting, something Feyre is refusing to do in this moment. Rhys is the one who is objecting to the c-section and Feyre insists that "We have to". Feyre chooses to have the c-section and attempt to save her son.

Conclusion:

I don't think we can conclude Feyre's choice was taken from her, in fact it seems she made a choice not to shapeshift and save herself. That might feel like pro life propaganda and maybe it is (I don't know SJMs stance on this) but a mother choosing to go through with a risky pregnancy and delivery is still her making that choice. Just because it's not the choice you would make or like, doesn't make it any less of a choice.

It's really odd how people twist this storyline to fit a narrative of "Rhys is just as bad as Tamlin" and while I can understand the similarities, (both being born out of fear and trauma) it just isn't the same. Tamlin watched as Feyre became sicker and sicker, and ignored her. Tamlin forced Feyre back to the Spring Court after she told him she didn't want to be taken from Rhys and the IC. Tamlin slut shamed her during the HL meeting. Tamlin was actively attempting to control Feyre's behavior and get her to fit what he wanted for her.

Rhys found out horrible information (on top of all the other shit that was going on in ACOSF) about the life of his mate and child. His mate who was currently overjoyed at the idea of being pregnant and having a baby. And he wanted to find a way to save her before giving her the fear, anxiety, and distress he was suffering. It wasn't about controlling her, and it wasn't about having some super baby. It wasn't the right thing to do but he didn't do it out wanting to control Feyre. That's important information and something that shouldn't be twisted.

You can dislike it (as I've stated I hate it being told in Nessian POV) but you shouldn't twist things to fit your narrative.