#it’s very ‘what’s that?’ ‘a KNIFE!’ vine

[chillwildwave]

The Wishing Kingdom: Chapter 3: Home For The Princess 👑 👸🏿 ✨

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The next scene is where we get a POV shot of Asha where she is walking through the depths of the forest, following the king and queen, by this point, we don't see their faces, we only see their backs not knowing who they are yet.

As she walks, the trees transform into those green beings about to grab her, at first, her eyes were only focused on where she was too, but as soon as the branches shot towards her, her entire body ran to the king in agony, while she held on to him, Magnifico gave her a heart-thumping stare, a stare so frightening it could alternate a harmful side of you, after the stare, he turned back to his own direction and kept on following the path.

As the scene goes on, the aspect transitions into a silhouette paper animation style where out of the blue, the background is covered in red where Magnifico and Amaya are in front of, while Asha still holding onto his arm, although it starts being irritating to her own body, to ignore the pain she felt, her eyes dart at the trees one more time, and the sky as well, no star in sight, there was still a blanket hovering the sky as a result, until the vines started coming back in front of the trio, as if it was to block their own path.

Magnifico gestured his hand towards Amaya and Asha, as he took one step towards the vines, darting at his direction as if they didn't know something had held into his own being, a breath went into him while his hands warmed up for a majestic spell…

“EVICES!!!”

As soon as that spell was chanted, a beam of emerald shot out of his hands, transitioning into a knife, made out of green paper, which slid off the vines, when they slid, the vines sank to the ground, like they dropped dead.

He checked around the vines, to see if it was safe to go across them now that he chopped them off with his magic, eyes examined his dear wife and Asha as well, afterwards, he tucked his head out towards an open path, showing that it was safe for them to finally cross.

Although Asha didn't know that Magnifico used his magic for other things, she was always satisfied with how the lines moved with such grace and beauty, like something that came out of her own drawings, now that she hadn't got her sketchbook with her, a passion like hers has fallen into a pit, slowly…

While the walk continued, we see a side profile of a silhouette of Asha, her head is titled down while her hand is still holding on to Magnifico’s, although we don't see her actual face, you can tell that she's in deep pain, knowing that without her passion, her sacrifice was preparing for her to witness.

Her head goes up to Magnifico before she begins to speak in a solemn manner.

“Are we there yet?”

Magnifico didn't answer, he remained mute for the most part, he knew that this journey was vile after crossing the vines and the trees, his signal got close, very close, so they carried on their journey until the camera panned out to his castle in Rosas through a black silhouette curtain which transitions back to the 2D animated universe of the kingdom.

(I chose this concept art piece of the Town of Del Mar from Puss In Boots: The Last Wish because this is how I imagine Rosas as soon as I think of it.)

At the center of the mountain, a grand castle is seen towards the bridge with a trail of rocks, although it can't be seen, its structure struck Asha’s eyes, she didn't know anything about what the kingdom looked like, but now that she's going to make herself presentable for the king and queen, it’s best to see what life has ahead of her, so they cross over the bridge until their foot is right in front of the castle.

We then get an introduction to Benito and Henry, the guards of the castle.

At first, Asha started to shake, her eyes looked down to the floor as if she didn't want to look up to her worst nightmares, but after a second, she looked back up again, while the king and queen both walked right up to the two guards.

“Aaah, it’s nice to see you again.” Magnifico declared with a straight posture. “As you can see we have a new visitor and we were wondering if we can show her around the castle.”

“Well why didn't you even tell me you had a new person?! You never told me this in a while?!” Benito’s eyes banged out of nowhere, he tried to get closer to Magnifico but Henry held onto his shoulder behind him.

“What he said, anyways, we’d be happy to show this young girl around.”

Henry prevented himself from making a single expression while still holding onto Benito’s shoulder, although Magnifico knew how he get, at least he still worked for the king and queen.

Amaya started walking up to them this time. “Thank you, my fellow guards, we’re going to be having a real treat this time around.”

After she said that, she winked at the guards and she, Magnifico and Asha were whisked over to the entrance where Benito and Henry followed in their path.

While they’re walking, we here Benito fiddling with his hands, you know, he's shaking them non-stop, so Henry decided to put his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking, (what I want to show is that Benito is extremely excited while Henry is just neutral, like soooooooo neutral.)

Asha fell a bit behind due to her slow walking, although she was told to catch up by Amaya and Magnifico, she stumbled back, where the two guards were behind her, almost like a needle had shot her, and as she bumped into them, we get an upshot of the guards, giving her the look…

(Also, I personally think Benito and Henry would look like the guards from The Black Cauldron.)

The camera goes into Asha as she startled in fear, forcing herself to look at where she was going, right towards the castle entrance, where the king and queen glided to, after seeing that they were ahead, Asha quickly ran over so that she can see the wonders of the castle as well.

We then get a montage of Asha being shown inside the castle, (no dialogue, just visually telling a story.)

The interior where a sparkling chandelier is seen hanging over the visitor and the residents, with a wall coated in tapestries made up of different kings and queens as well as some arched walls wrapped up in Latin writing, Asha raised an eyebrow, she didn't understand what it said, but Magnifico told her that they’re all the magic spells that were founded in the kingdom, and the names of the kings and queens who originated them.

We see them in the throne room now, where a gigantic throne made out of gold and satin between two candle holders, both stood like statues to hold themselves in place, Benito and Henry explained to Asha that this is where the king and queen sit, Amaya also came in and explained that this is where the servants bow down when told to!

She looked up at the throne, thinking about her life in Rosas, and how she would be forced to bow down, a thunder strike hit her heart, and her fright almost got the better of her.

The montage continues as she is shown to the dining room, with a statue of King Jeffery in a posture so bold it looked like he fought for his life (this king is named after the former executive of Disney, Jeffery Katzenberg.) in front of two golden seats with everything nearly drenched in gold, Asha couldn't believe it, it was much more vibrant than her own home.

Finally, as the final door opens on the third floor, the camera circles over to Asha’s new bedroom, soothed in a blue curtain covering her new bed, decked with a chair and a vanity table, next to a grand wardrobe of puffy dresses fit for a princess, she didn't know that she would become a princess until now!

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As the evening moon lit up upon the horizon, Asha was already tucked into her new nightgown, tapping her hands while waiting for the queen to come in, while waiting, she started staring at her new room, particularly the ceiling, still stacked with medieval tapestry, she didn't know what was behind the pictures but after reading them with her eyes, she saw a league of nine kings, with Magnifico right at the end of them, making him the tenth king of the lineup and has still been able to use his magic in recent years.

SQUEEEK!

The door squeaked open which halted Asha’s free time, which unnerved her and turned her head, only to find out that it was Queen Amaya all this time, it took about 4 seconds for them to stare (I wanted to show how immediately startled she was by the queen’s entrance.) until she entered with such grace with her hands in front of her.

“Oh, heh, hello, your majesty.” She stroke her hair to the back while she bowed down to her in such surprise.

“Wow, already, Asha? Well hello there, how are you finding this new room?” She glided towards the same bed where she sat down earlier.

“Not bad, I mean it isn't as bad like I thought it would be.” Her eyes were at the side indicating that this would be where she would stay her own life.

“Oh, come on, think about it, you are going to become one of the grandest rulers of Rosas, with us.” Amaya replied with such very little enthusiasm yet with much passion, she knew that Asha was capable, but does she actually think she can get it right?

“The… grandest ruler? W-what do you mean?” Asha questioned, she didn't know what was meant my ruler during this time, before the queen spoke, she rested her hand on her shoulder.

“What you mean is… Kings and queens who have once ruled this land with such presence, helping others make their wishes come true, through their magic, and this time, we can help you, make your own wish come true, if you think that magic is going to help, think again…” Her words almost struck harder than a rock, there was yet another awkward pause…

“Make my own wish come true? How?” Asha’s curiosity was out of the world, she couldn't help but have more answers pop out of her head.

“All you have to do is one simple thing, and I can't tell you because we're going to a special place that can surely keep you practising your own magic, to show that you, will be the next wishgranter of Rosas.” Amaya’s long monologue continued as Asha was intrigued while she was close to yawning.

The queen saw that Asha’s eyes were half-open, causing them to close as if she were in a deep slumber, in response, she knelt down and kissed the sleeping child in the cheek. “Good night, Asha, its going to be a big day.”

After that, she smiled gently and closed the door, leaving the soon-to-be princess couched in her new bed, asleep, while the screen fades to black.

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After 2 seconds, the screen fades in a text that says “5 years later” and afterwards, we get a shot of the morning sun as its light flashed onto Asha’s bedside, with her eyes nearly open, her arm sheltered her face from hitting the light, as we get into grown-up Asha, you can see that she has matured, her hair is a lot more longer, so she sat down by the vanity table to brush it (a la Ariel), she takes a step into her grand wardrobe and had some trouble selecting a couple of dresses until she found the right fit!

She wears this beautiful orange and yellow dress, which was the final dress in her wardrobe, it looked absolutely gorgeous on her that she started spinning in it a few times in front of the mirror in typical Disney-princess fashion, and of course, she tops it off with a pointy tiara that Magnifico had given to her previously.

After she’s all ready for her big day, she closed the door behind her and gently glides herself down the long trail of stairs that went like a circle, as if they didn't take the time to stand the test of time to stand in someone’s feet, until she finally enters the throne room where Magnifico and Amaya sat down, with their hands touching each other.

From far away, their glare was far more vicious than ever, she stood still, as if she forgot what she was supposed to do when the king and queen were in front of her, after 5 seconds of staring into their eyes, she creaked forwards to the king and queen, and unhurriedly bowed in front of their bodies, she looked back up at them again, desperate for their faces to lift.

Out of nowhere, their faces were still stern, although she felt like she should try harder, she didn't bother anyway because from their stern looks, they were already intrigued by her presence.

“Wow, so glad you entered with a bow, uh, mm, mi reina must be sooooo proud too!” Magnifico glanced before turning towards Amaya.

“I’m always proud, mi rey, and especially since a new up-and-coming princess has reached our lineup.” She responded whilst lovingly looking into the king’s eyes.

“Oh, Amaya, just think about it, if only we had a room where we can teach her all the possibilities.” Magnifico was close to holding his wife, however he realised that Asha needed to learn a few things first.

“Wait… really? Where?” Asha examined the look in the couple’s eyes, she too wanted to know the secret room.

Magnifico climbed himself down the few steps from his throne and went towards Asha side to side, eyeing her up and down, every move he made. “Well, don't you see? I didn't we had another room, so come with me.”

At first, Asha’s face was conflicted with which emotions to choose, but she ended up agreeing on the idea, so she and the king and queen were led to a staircase that reached all the way up to the tower.

As they walk, the camera goes up and up the staircase while the other side of the screen is incredibly blank and dark, until the reflection of light, not yellow but a sombre-blue light zoomed into Magnifico.

While he reached that light, he looked back at his wife and Asha, in a loving sight, before he gestured for them to come along because they were close to the room.

And as soon as the door opens…

A sight was indescribable to fulfil.

It felt like what she saw in her own sketches, if only it returned to her.

The background music is more reminiscent of the cathedral scene in Hunchback of Notre Dame, as we see these golden crystals with people’s desires on one side of the shelf.

On the other side was a deck of all the magic books filled with spells that endure a simple passion.

Asha’s expression became as light as a feather, she was close to touching one of the crystals, it flickered as it was floating up in the atmosphere, she desperately wanted a view of it, she knew what had to be done, her hand went close and closer.

Closer…

“Ahem!”

Magnifico’s body behind her made a statement of its own.

“Don’t touch those, you know you don't want to see what’s inside.”

“Yes, and if you touch them, you only let the experts do it.”

Amaya’s voice sounded whisper as if she was a cat, annoyed from their owner, almost tingling Asha’s spine, but she still kept that curiosity.

“But what exactly do they do?”

She asked as she continued observing the crystals.

“Let us show you first, BUT, you must concentrate, because a princess should concentrate on what they are doing.”

“Should they?”

“Of course they should, it you don't get this right, you won’t be a princess!”

Asha held her thoughts to herself after they said this, which led her to follow them into a forbidden cabinet where they possessed all forms of magic, whether it was Lagiate (magic used to transform into objects), Fiera (magic used to summon creatures of any kind), Repelsus (magic used to transform into dangerous animals) and Supresus (magic used to create abstract lines that have power, much more dangerous power.)

These titles of the magic spells are seen on display with a glass box holding it still to prevent anyone from stealing it.

The king and queen then stood in front of the princess with their hands gesturing her hands.

“Now…” Magnifico knelt down to look into Asha’s eyes. “ You know these types of magic have been brought up since Rosas was established, and they were used that can do all sorts of believable things, it could almost be impossible for it to come true!”

The queen took her turn to speak while also kneeling down as well. “And the only way to make it impossible is to just chant the incantations of old.”

“Incantations of old?” Asha raised an eyebrow, her breath nearly caught her from asking a question.

“Yes, ancient ones, it’s sort of a little rhyme that you hum and then before you know it, tada, that's magic for you.” Magnifico’s over-the-top jazz hands showed off during the final line, causing Amaya to laugh while Asha didn't move her mouth afterwards.

At this point, you can just say that she doesn't get it at all, this is because this is a new environment.

Amaya covered the confusion by standing back up and leading herself over to a black cauldron, where it was believed that this was where they got their power from in the first place, Magnifico looked back and ultimately followed her, Asha did the same thing.

The cauldron was wrapped in thorns and roses, only on the edges where a finger wouldn't prick.

Her entire body was guarded around the cauldron with her eyes closed, anticipating the moment, her hands cupped the green goo out of it.

“Addradus, Brambocious!”

And then…

From out of nowhere, Asha’s eyes were focused on the objects, at first they still stayed in place, but with the spell, they became animated, they were lifted out of their place and hovered around the princess as if it was all telekinesis can do.

We can see them hover around for around 7 seconds before they loose their stability and hit hard on the floor.

“Now you try.”

Magnifico reached out his hand to Asha.

She was frozen for a few seconds, couldn't she have listened to the spell before she knew what she had to do? Well, she doesn't know, and its up to her to make up for the practice that she was going to do.

She walked up to the cauldron.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Her hands wriggling in sight.

Both the king and queen’s eyes opened wide for their own good.

She's ready!

Her hands dipped inside the emerald ooze as her head lifted up with the spell in her mouth already.

“Addradus, Brambocious.”

Nothing…

Maybe a few more times would work.

“Addradus, Brambocious, Addradus, Brambocious, ADDRADUS, BRAMBOCIOUS!!!”

Not a blink, not a sound, not a peep at all…

Asha’s eyes flickered towards the nearby objects.

Still, gravity kept them still for so long.

She saw her palms of her hands, still no trace.

No signs.

“Unbelivable.” She stuttered, still looking at her hands with such distraught.

“Unbelivable? Try again!” Magnifico persuaded while holding on to his wife, knowing that she couldn't believe what happened.

Okay, here we go.

One last time, hands in, squelch, head up, now chant that spell…

“Addradus, Brambocious!”

Silence, no nothing.

No background music is playing, just a single violin strumming.

The entire space is blank from that moment.

Isn't this the right fit?

Isn't this the place where she was brought into on the first place?

If it was, then wasn't it magic that was so gifted to her genes?

Her mouth trembled, nearly like she was about to let a tear beat her down.

“Ugh, quit that sulking.” Magnifico’s voice remained on low volume, though sinister, it remained low.

She sniffed, trying to cover up her tears by wiping it off her sleeve, it wasn't even appropriate in their minds for a princess to cry, a princess should be well-mannered and greatly appreciated, not making every failure come their way!

“I SAID QUIT THAT SULKING!” Magnifico snapped with his dark magic, creating a fold in the mouth for Asha to remain silent, Amaya came back up and used the same magic as him.

Breathing again from Asha couldn't prevent her from being able to speak again, afterwards, they let go of her and walked closer and closer…

“Oh, whiny little Asha, a princess doesn't cry, very unpresentable, very, very unpresentable, hahah, just teasing, you're a perfect princess, I love you so much!” Amaya grinned as she pulled her cheek, the young princess knitted her eyebrows, slightly confused, she didn't know what was going on.

“And since you're a perfect little princess, we have no choice but to offer you something special during this practice!” Magnifico stated.

Asha stroked her heap of hair displayed in a braid, all whist looking up to her parents, Magnifico on the other hand knew the look on her face, so did his wife, they started circling around the princess therefore ruining any opportunity to run away.

“Something special… I wonder what it is, but I think that it's...”

“IMPOSSIBLE, you were about to say, come to think of it, why whine about the most precious things in Rosas when we are the ones having to do it for you?”

Amaya spoke with a smug on her face, with her monolith self, looming towards Asha, causing a fright.

She remained mute, eyes darting around the room, her slow pace couldn't come up with words to defend the king and queen’s comeback until she found out what to say.

“I don't know…”

As soon as that was said, a piano on minor key starts playing.

“Oh, Asha, didn't we tell you before?”

Magnifico scolded as the main villain song is about to commence…

Our Command 🔮

Lines in blue - Amaya

Lines in Orange - Asha

Lines in Black - Both

Lines in green - Magnifico

There's power and there's strength,

No matter what size or even length,

You see this? Is what you're asking,

From us?

(During the first line, some shadow effects appear out of Magnifico’s hand as they are projected on the floor, jumpscaring Asha as he says his line, the line “This is what you're asking from us” is to show how they are always asked to do things for her rather than doing it herself as appropriate behaviour from a princess.)

Now what do you have to say,

Too nervous, what a bad day,

Too tedious to speak up,

Why won't you stand up?!

(Amaya walks closer to Asha after Magnifico, gesturing her own hands that were filled with all sorts of swishes from the magic she beheld, as she says “too tedious and too nervous” her face makes these weird expressions as if she’s straight up mocking Asha for her insecurities.)

By the power of glory,

How are we so unworthy?

Trust us we’ll do the talking,

Stay shut, that's our command!

(Now we get a shot at the couple dancing as they're surrounded by these green flames targeting Asha, she steps back, and when they say, the three lines, they are talking about how offended they would feel when no one respected them so they force Asha to do the same thing.)

You see all these powers,

That you hold in your hands,

It seems like not everything works as your plan,

Let us teach you how to use it well.

(With those lines, Magnifico goes towards Asha and holds her hand, as soon as he is about to teach her how to use magic properly, at first she was convinced that she could give this her best shot, as soon as he says this, Asha’s hand almost lights up with a flame until…)

Whoops, that was all a slip up,

Looks like the crown will pass on.

(The flame suddenly dims out which shocks the princess, Amaya sings this line with such suspense and as she says “the crown will pass on” she conjures up two ventriloquist dummies reminiscent of a clone Asha with a crown on her head, and therefore snatching it off her.)

But please, I swear it didn't happen!

Who cares, they're just excuses!

(When Asha says this line, she is literally begging down on her knees so that her parents would see her, but their backs are now turned to their normal direction, and when the queen says her line, she is about to imitate what she said.)

It’s impossible,

It’s all so useless

Why is this so hard

Give me time to regard!

(Their voices eerily switch to Asha’s voice, with the fake disguises they put on through their powers, she looked extremely daunted as soon as they did this.)

Is this all still a joke?

It’s not meant for that way!

(She is close to crying again and then grabbed hold on Amaya’s cloak, distraught by the behaviour, she gestured the door along with Magnifico as well.)

Call the guards, you shall stay OUT

That's the case if you don't obey.

(The background music starts getting more intense, the piano gets louder and the choir wails with so much force that the thumping gets more noticeable from the staircase.)

You're nothing but a failure,

No questions, session’s over,

Get gone, don't grab my hand,

This is our command!

(As soon as those lines are spoken, the couple start conjuring up those odd-looking skeletons that forced Asha to go outside the tower door, and this forces her to fight back whilst shoving the skeletons to the side but it doesn't ever work.)

We've got something to do,

Don't worry, pet, we've got you,

Ha, lies, don't mean to burst your bubble,

Now, GO, before you get in big, big…

(Asha tries to fight back but as soon as Magnifico spots her, he joins Amaya’s hand and it creates a forceful green wall, shoving her all the way to the tower door below the long staircase.)

Trouble…

(When Magnifico says that line, the door slams shut, and while the music dims, Asha is heard slamming the door in agony and weeping until she was able to get back in.)

“Hmm, looks like we handled her quite nicely, didn't we, Pookie?” Amaya glanced while she fixed her braided hair, Magnifico helped her as well before he spoke.

“Ha, I feel like we did our job, just being the royal ones we are.” He leans towards the window while he opens the doors to let in some fresh air, “And ever since you and I brought this power to our own founded home, I would've never known a world without you in it.” He held her hands as if he's about to kiss her.

“And I wouldn't have lived if you came to revive me, with your, rightful duties.”

Her voice got lighter and more flirtier as she was close to the king.

“And just you wait, honey, there's some big plans for our subjects, take a look down.”

As the camera goes down, we get a shot of the people carrying their loads as they are literal zombies walking in a hunched position, as if they had the orders of a righteous leader, whilst the king and queen smiled, and then, they shared an intimate kiss, with the camera slowly fading to a faint black.

The font then says “3 months later…”

As the screen is black, a majestic fanfare is heard indicating a special event commencing in Rosas…

Final Thoughts

Okay this is probably the longest chapter I wrote in my rewrite so far, and this is the only one where I wanted to explore all these concepts, like a comedic duo like in classic Disney movies a la Pain and Panic, such as Benito and Henry, I wanted to show that B is over excited while H is just like “you know I don't feel like being there but I have to do my job” lmao.

And I wanted to show you guys how the magic system in Rosas and I feel like I was able to do that by showing the gestures on that specific spell and how you can make it happen through these type sof effects.

And the best part was where I transitioned into silhouette animation to show how scary and sinister the forest was (side eyes Snow White) since I think a rewrite using different animation styles is not only perfect to pay homage to Disney, but also a perfect way to show the impact that Disney had with the animation and how it lives on to this day and I was able to achieve this!

Make sure you stick around for the next chapter where we finally get to meet Antares, IN ANIMATIC FORM and two songs as well, “This Wish” and “Down There” the other song that is replacing the alien mess of “Im a Star”, make sure you comment anything you liked about my rewrite, like, reblog and ask me anything so that I can learn in the future!

Thanks for reading!

@annymation @uva124 @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @your-ne1ghbor @frogcoven88 @thisnameisnotspokenfor @flicklikesstuff @oh-shtars @rascalentertainments @mythartist21 @ryoli @rylxdreams @peapeapeapa @hopeyarts @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @emillyverse @spectator-zee @tumblingdownthefoxden @ishadow246

[babygirlgiles]

I’m sorry, but was no one going to tell me that Dawn Summers, the physical representation of Buffy’s innocence, of Buffy’s innermost vulnerability, just casually carries a Taser? Were none of you going to tell me that?

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

 “That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

[reverieblondie]

Nobel Blood

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.

Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...

Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)

“What about this one? What do you think?” 

Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms. 

“Be honest… Thoughts?”

A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over. 

“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!” 

Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.” 

Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!” 

Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!” 

Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.” 

“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…” 

The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds. 

“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!” 

Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more, 

“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!” 

“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.” 

“I’m going for cool and collect.” 

“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.” 

Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave, 

“I'm not going there to get a date!”

Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…” 

Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”  

Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”

-KAW!-

The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…

-KAW KAW!-

The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause. 

The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?” 

Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,” 

Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening. 

“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?” 

Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her. 

“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.” 

Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy. 

“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind. 

“Nope, are you?” You challenge. 

Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never” 

Typical…

Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….

Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all. 

Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you. 

“Dress issues?” Astarion teases 

You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…

“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation. 

“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in 

Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…

Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.” 

You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on. 

“Anytime Darlings~” 

Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads. 

“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”

You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other. 

Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her… 

You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind. 

“Yes?” 

Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?” 

When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time. 

“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?” 

Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.” 

A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”

“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…” 

Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten. 

“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…” 

“Play nice Astarion!” 

“No promises! Ta Ta!” 

With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…

Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl. 

It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?

Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy. 

Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…

“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.” 

Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat. 

“Tav, what…why?”

“What? Not happy to see me? 

“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….” 

His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile. 

“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.” 

You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan, 

“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.” 

Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks. 

“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.” 

Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?” 

Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?” 

Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…” 

“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.” 

Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?” 

You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”  

Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now. 

“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop. 

“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “ 

Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.” 

Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.” 

Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake. 

As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage. 

“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.” 

Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…” 

“Specktical?” 

Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?” 

“Her.” 

Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp. 

She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother. 

In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow. 

“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.” 

You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good. 

“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.” 

Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself, 

“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise 

“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.” 

Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer. 

“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.” 

Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away. 

“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.” 

Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like. 

“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“ 

“I watched her punch someone in the face for defending my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!

“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.” 

The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.  

“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.” 

With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father. 

“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you. 

You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.

“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…” 

“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.” 

“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?” 

“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…

Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.” 

The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one. 

“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort. 

It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.

“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!” 

The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree. 

Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat. 

“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.” 

“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.” 

“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.” 

“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him

“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”

You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks. 

“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.

Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns. 

“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.” 

You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin. 

“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!” 

Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind. 

“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”

“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.” 

The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…” 

This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…

“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music. 

The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?” 

Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”

lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”

You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.

With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.

A perfect dance partner, finally.

You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.

A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.

As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners. 

Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,

“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh I can-“

“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.

“A glass of wine sounds great then,” 

“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another. 

Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…” 

Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.

Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.

Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.

The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.

His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.

“Rolan, wh-what happened?” 

Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.

Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.

In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.

“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses. 

Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“ 

Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.

“You're better than any of them…” you whisper

“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response

“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.” 

Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…

“We are different…” he almost pouts

“I like our differences.” 

Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist. 

“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?” 

“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise

You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.

“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently

“They can go fuck themselves” 

The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.

Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr. 

Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form. 

“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant 

“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex. 

“Yes.” 

Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch, 

“F-fuck…” he whispers 

You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt. 

The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…

The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt. 

Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth. 

“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder. 

Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god. 

Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock. 

“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”  

You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other. 

It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.  

In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.

Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in. 

“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket. 

Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly. 

His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up, 

“I want to court you properly.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach. 

“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.” 

“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.

Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog. 

“Good,” you whisper 

Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.

[http-finnick]

𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤.𝐨

finnick x fem!reader soulmate!au

summary: |soulmate!au, finnicks!pov|as the act of beetees plan grows near, you and finnick discover that you are each other's soulmates and can talk telepathically. (blue quotations mean they are talking telepathically)

requested: hi 🩵 could you pls write a finnick x reader with the telepathy soulmate au? They could be in the games and they don’t know they’re soulmates but finnick starts to figure it out and starts trying to keep her safe. Maybe he tells her after the games when they’re safe in district 13? Thank you!! I’ve missed your writing!

I walk over to her, sand crunching with each step as relish in my newly dried suit. you're sitting off to the side, ripping a fish to bits with your teeth.

"hungry?" I tease, sitting down next to you as you roll your eyes

"just enjoying our main food source before we completely ruin it." you smile at him. he knows you're not fond of the plan, but, it's already been decided.

"maybe focus on all the capitol food you'll be eating once the careers are gone" I grin at her as she snorts a laugh

"you think I'm getting out of this?" you say before taking another bite

of course you are is held back on my tongue, after haymitch sent the bread today, I'm very hopeful with the plan.

so instead I settle on "we'll see" but before I can speak, my hearing begins to weaken.

my ears rang as you turned to me, your mouth moving but I can't hear anything. your head whips back over to the jungle as my voice echoes

"what?"

and suddenly my hearing is back to normal.

"hm? oh, it's just Johanna trying to give us a heart attack" you wave your hand to the jungle, I see Johanna with the spile and some shells and I turn back to you

I retrace my steps. hearing goes out, can't move my mouth, my voice seems louder...

either I just had a stroke or I'm going to.

"you want a piece?" you pass the fish towards me, I shake my head no

"k, well I'm gonna get some rest. we have a big job tonight." you push yourself off the sand and walk towards the woven mats and I'm left completely puzzled.

how could you hear me?

.

my body stretches and pops as yours does the same, napping until go-time was probably not a good idea as I feel sleep still tugging my eyes

the sun is getting low as we move toward the jungle, you're as eager as ever, hopping in front of me as you take the lead.

we keep walking and I'm feeling my calves burn as I crush the vines under me, sweat is soaking me completely and that's when my hearing starts to go out again

I look up to see you quickly patting your ear, its happening to you to.

during this I remember how katniss said something similar, we must be too close to the forcefield. you're too close to the forcefield

"Y/n come back down with us" I feel as though I'm yelling, my head echoing my words as my thoughts are left empty

"I'm fine finnick, quit your worrying." as you talk my hearing comes back and everyone in the group stops in their tracks. you, no longer hearing leaves crunch, you turn back with confusion all over your face

"what?" you ask plainly, I'm threatening to ask the same thing but judging from the reactions everyone gives you, I opt out.

"are you feeling alright?" beetee asks, now I'm studying your face to see if anythings out of the ordinary

"yes? what's the issue?" you snap, coming down a few steps towards beetee as he leans into katniss' ear

"could be heat stroke" he whispers and before I know it everything slaps me in my face

when our hearing goes...

we can only hear each other.

hearing goes out for both of us, no thoughts passing through, and we can only hear each other.

we're soulmates.

I turn to look at you to see if you've figured it out but your hand is resting on your knife as you stare at the 4 people questioning your sanity

"no!" I rush my words out, and everyone turns to me as I struggle to make up a reason to explain

"it's something from 4...we just communicate differently" I spit out and your face is contorting

"how so?" Beetee asks in genuine curiosity, I stutter.

"click our tounges. we click our tounges" I turn back to you, giving you a pleading look as you nod along to my idiocy

"yeah...we do"

and as embarrassment floods me completely, we keep walking.

.

it's over

the lightening, the arrow, it happened so fast...we couldn't get everyone but we got you, and you're safe, and it's over

I sit on the cold ledge of the aircraft next to your bed, running my fingers through your hair as your eyes twitch open

"hey, hey you're ok...we got out" I grin, seeing your eyes flash panic before calming down

"did we get everyone out?" you ask and I just shake my head

"who?" you're sitting up but I'm softly pushing you right back down

"peeta and johanna..." I mutter and you stare up at the ceiling

It's quiet for a few minutes, until you speak up with what I've been wanting to scream

"We don't click our tounges in 4." you say plainly

"yes, I know"

"And no one heard you when you talked to me."

"yes..." "Finnick." you look up at me, eyebrows twisting as you huff a breath and look to the corner of the room

"I don't even know you" you mumble and it hurts, only just meeting for the Quarter Quell and just happen to be soulmates

"we don't have to be...soulmates or whatever" I tell you and you shake your head

"no, I just...wish we didn't have to meet like this" you say and I nod, pushing a loose strand of your hair back.

"we can start over in thirteen. no games, no capitol, nothing." I whisper and I see you smile

"okay" you say and I feel myself smiling too

"okay"

an: AHHH i loved writing this! thank you so much for requesting it was so much fun! <333 I hope you don't mind it's in finnicks pov <333

[clbrq]

PLS DO MORE SAM AND COLBY SMUTSSS

DOUBLE TROUBLE - C. BROCK & S. GOLBACH.

warnings; HEAVY SMUT, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), p in v sex, cursing/swearing, alcohol consumption, kinda like a tag team kinda thing but they don’t know about it LMAO just read.

minors dni.

-/-

You had always been attracted to your best friends. Not even in a strange way; you just thought they were both two good-looking men. Sam and Colby had been your friends since high school, your friendship dating back to when you were all living in Kansas. You can remember filming their vines, and helping them create ideas for their next ones. And when you all grew up, they both matured into two beautiful boys that you admired deeply.

Sam had a gorgeous smile, so contagious and relaxing. When he smiled, you felt happiness bloom inside your body. He also had amazingly, well cared for hair—his blonde locks were always clean and soft, easy for you to run your fingers through. His personality always lightened up your mood too, and the leadership side of him always brought you a lot stability.

Similarly, Colby was such handsome man, you almost buckled to your knees by just looking at him. He had incredible, ocean blue eyes that twinkled in the sunlight, bringing you ultimate joy when you caught a glimpse of them. Colby also, similar to Sam, had an unbelievably contagious laugh, that rang a cheerful feeling through you as the noise escaped his lips.

However, after the occasional one too many drinks, you often looked at your two best friends very differently. It was like the alcohol in you made you view your two friends in dangerously sexual manner. When you looked at Sam, you wanted him to carefully take care of you, make you feel good, but when you looked at Colby, you wanted him to absolutely destroy you. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself.

And that’s exactly how you felt right now.

You were stood with a group of your friends, including Sam and Colby, surrounded by dancing, drunk people, enjoying the 10 million subscribers party they were hosting. They always hosted the best parties—the one’s where you somehow got the most drunk. Stood with you was Corey, Jake, Tara, and Aryia, all chatting comfortably with each other.

But, you couldn’t help your eyes as they landed on Sam, the way he smiled at the joke Aryia made, forcing a smile to land on your face simultaneously. He stood with his arms loosely hanging by his sides, and a structured stance, watching as Corey laughed at Jake doing something stupid.

A small voice from next to you pulled you out of your trance, “Come get a drink with me?” Tara grinned up at you, her small height making you giggle.

“Yeah, sure, I’m feeling too sober anyway.” You replied, walking behind her as you both grab a black cherry White Claw—Sam’s favourite.

Before you could crack it open and take a sip, the can was taken out your hands, “Hey!”

“What?” Sam chuckled, “Shotgun it. That’s way more fun.”

“And why would I do that?” You snapped back, smirking up at him.

“Because I said so, and you love me, so you’ll do it.” Sam stated, grinning back.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was right, “Fine.”

“That’s my girl.”

His voice rattled through your brain as he grabbed a small knife, and placed it gently in your hands. You licked your lips as you punctured the side of the can and watched as it bubbled everywhere. Bringing it quickly up to your lips, you opened the top as you chugged the smooth beverage in front of him as he cheered you on. Once you’d finished the can, you threw the can in the bin as you caught your breath.

You turned Sam, feeling accomplished, “See? I did it.”

“Well done, but wait.” Sam replied, but suddenly approaching you. His thumb swiped your lip as he wiped away the access of the drink from your mouth.

Slowly, he placed his thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean from the alcohol that once remained. You watched in awe, as you felt your stomach flip, not only from the White Claw settling in your empty stomach, but how sexy Sam looked doing that.

“Come on, bet everyone’s missing us.” He dragged you back over to the group, grabbing two more drinks as you followed him.

Handing you another can, you stood next to Colby, feeling your heart rate instantly increase as you got a whiff of his strong, expensively alluring cologne. The smell was almost blinding as you breathed deeper due to how much this was affecting you.

“You alright, doll?” Colby’s voice whispered in your ear, his hot breath hitting your bare neck, sending shivers down your spine. His hand rested gently on your back as he leant down to talk to you.

“Yeah, just maybe need to sit down.” You mumbled back to him, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Let’s go upstairs, it’ll be quieter there.” He suggested, letting you lead the way as his hand stayed on your lower back as you both walked towards the stairs.

You and Colby stayed in silence as you reached his free, quiet bedroom. Colby shut and locked the door as you collapsed on his bed, shutting your eyes as your previous drinks were hitting you suddenly.

You felt eyes on you, watching you closely. Opening your eyes, you sat up to see Colby stood by your feet, observing your every move with a smirk on his face.

“May I help you, Mr. Brock?” You chuckled, shuffling closer to him.

“I’m not sure, can you?”

“What do you need?” You asked, innocently, wondering what was wrong with him.

“Well, ever since you walked through that door, Hell, ever since I met you; I’ve wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless,” He admitted, his big hand making its way up to your red hot cheek, “but, since you’re my best friend, you’re off limits.”

“W-who decided that?” You blurted out, wanting nothing more for him to do all the things he just said.

Colby laughed darkly down at you, removing his hand while staring deep into your eyes, “Why? You want it?”

“Please.” You whispered, biting harshly onto your bottom lip as his touch lingered.

Colby didn’t speak but pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed on top of you, connecting your lips forcefully. The kiss was hot, and steamy, teeth clashing and moans erupting from both of your throats. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his lower half closer to yours. Colby moved his hips ever so slightly, grinding his obvious hard-on onto your clothed pussy.

“Mm, I need you.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming through his brown locks, “Need you now, Colbs.”

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, sitting up to throw all his clothes off to the side, bar his boxers.

Colby then turned to you, slipping off your dress to reveal your naked chest, but your lacy panties underneath.

“God, you slut.” Colby whispered, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders, “You’re practically begging me to fuck you with these on.” His fingers playing gingerly with the rim of your panties, making the arousal inside you grow.

“Please, Colby.”

“Please what?” He pushed back, wanting to hear you beg for him.

“Please, do something, touch me, please.” You whined, shimming in impatience.

Pulling your underwear off, Colby’s placed soft, teasingly slow kisses on your inner thighs, making sure you were absolutely begging for his tongue by the time he made it to your core. The way you whined and begged for him was enough as he placed his hot tongue against your aching clit. You cried out as he wrapped his pretty lips around your bud, sucking gently, taking his sweet time with you. You’d never felt pleasure like this as he reached his hand up slipped his middle finger into your clenching hole, curling them upwards, hitting the sweet spot deep inside you.

You arched your back, calling out his name as you grabbed onto his hair, pulling his locks, causing him to groan against you. Your pleasure increased as he twirled his tongue around your clit, occasionally giving it a small kiss, and then returning with his tongue. You could feel the knot in your stomach begging to tighten, the orgasm was about to hit you hard.

“Yeah, you gonna cum?” Colby asked, feeling you clench around his fingers, smirking from between your legs.

Only whining his name, begging him to continue with his mouth, he proceeded to do so. Colby flicked his tongue in a way that tipped you over the edge, the orgasm ripping through as you cried out loudly, not caring who heard. You twitched and writhed under him as ecstasy coursed throughout your body.

Standing up, Colby harshly grabbed your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, his tongue tasting sweetly of your arousal as it slid down your throat. His hand swiftly grasped your neck, kissing you roughly—he was clearly pent up.

“Bend over.” He demanded, pulling away from your swollen lips, a string of saliva and your slick connecting both of your mouths.

Doing quickly as you were told, you arched your ass into the sky for him, your pussy dripping with excitement. He knelt on the bed, teasing your spasming hole with the tip of his leaking cock.

“You ready for me, baby?” Colby purred, stroking your back, lovingly.

“Yes, Colby, please.” You winced, begging for him as you pushed your hips backwards.

Colby complied with your begging and slipped his hard cock quickly inside you, not caring for you to get used to his size. Crying out in both pain and pleasure, you gripped his bedsheets for support as he began to ram his pulsating cock inside you.

“God, you’re such a whore, aren’t you?” Colby taunted, his thrusts at a fast, yet steady, pace, “You’re so thirsty for my cock.”

“Yes, Colby, just for you.”

Colby laughed evilly from behind you, tightly grabbing onto your hips as his thrusts grew harder and deeper which each other. His rhythm so harsh, you were beginning to not see straight. He truly was fucking you senseless. You could feel another orgasm building up as he reached round to rub your clit as he pounded you from behind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Colby announced, throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as the pleasure washed over him.

Groaning out your name as he filled you up deep inside, your second orgasm ripped through you. You heard ringing in your ears and stars in your eyes as his thrusts slowed down. Soon enough, he pulled out as you collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” Colby queried, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I think so.” You murmured, eyes beginning to feel heavy as he spoke.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, still got a whole party downstairs.”

Agreeing with his statement, you sat up, sighing as you did so.

“Did so good for me, baby.” Colby whispered, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll grab you some water.”

Colby wondered off to his bathroom with an empty cup in hand, as you slowly began to dress yourself. Once he returned, you drank the whole cup he had filled up for you, erupting a small laugh from his chest.

“Now, as much as I’d love to stay here and sleep with you,” Colby started, helping you back into your dress as you begin to wake up a bit more, “People will wonder where we’ve gone.”

You nodded as you adjusted your dress, and then leaning up to peck his lips, “Thank you.”

“No problem, love,” He smiled, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, I’ll meet you down there.”

“Alright,” You answered, watching him walk towards the bathroom once more, and then exit bedroom yourself.

However, as you walked towards the stairs, a familiar face exited his room also, and caught your gaze.

“Sam?” You questioned, unsure on what he was doing upstairs and away from the party, “What are you doing up here?”

“I needed a charger,” Sam replied, furrowing his eyebrows as his eyes lingered on you for longer than you wanted, “Are you okay?”

You were taken aback by his words, “Uhm, yeah, I think.”

“Do you need some Advil or something? You look like you’ve thrown up about 10 times.” He chuckled, approaching you.

“No, no, I’m okay. Just feel a bit lightheaded.” You lied, not wanting to admit you just fucked his best friend.

“Here, come with me, we can chill in my room until you feel better.” Sam suggested, grabbing your hand gently and leading you into his bedroom.

Déjà vu.

You and Sam sat on his bed, not saying a word as you made yourself comfortable.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You answered, turning to face him, “Just not feeling too hot right now.”

“Well you look it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to be so forward, “Really?”

“Yeah, 100%, always thought so.” Sam smiled cheekily, looking deep into your eyes.

“You’re drunk.” You laughed, shaking your head.

Sam returned the laugh, “Maybe, but I know what I’m saying is true.”

The adrenaline from your quickie with Colby still hadn’t worn off as you leaned in to kiss Sam. Luckily, you had read the room correctly and Sam instantly took your face in his hands as he kissed back. Sam was a gentle, loving kisser—he took his time to make sure you were enjoying it as much as him. You moved over to straddle either side of his legs, and continued your kiss in the comfort of his lap.

“God, you have no idea how you make me feel,” Sam murmured against your lips, pecking you carefully.

“Let me show you how you make me feel.” You replied, boldly, slowly moving down his body towards his crotch, “Can I?” You asked, politely.

“Fuck, yeah.”

As you removed Sam’s jeans and boxers, you watched as his obviously hard member sprung up and slapped against his torso. You took it in the small of your hand, slowly jerking his dick as you kitten licked the tip that was already leaking with pre-cum. Sam got comfortable on his bed as you lowered your mouth fully onto his dick.

Sam groaned out loud a slur of curses as you flicked your tongue on his cock as you sucked him. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue helping you amplify his pleasure. You sped up your movements, knowing this would be killing him, and he moaned out your name in ecstasy.

“Jesus, you’re such a good girl.” Sam mumbled, his one arm behind his head, his cheeks red and his eyes screwed shut.

You smirked on his member as you knew you were making him feel good. Strategically adding your hand to the base of his cock, you jerked the bottom off as you sucked the tip, helping him reach his finish.

Unlike Colby, Sam quickly finished as he grabbed your hair, gently, in his hands, pushing your head down as he spilled deep inside your throat, cursing and groaning as he did so. As you swallowed his seed, and pulled your mouth off his dick, you sat up and faced him.

You giggled as he let out a shaky breath, “Jesus, you’re unreal.” He sighed, smiling at you.

“You’re very welcome.”

Sam beckoned you over as he pulled you in for another kiss, his hand beginning to travel under your dress and to your still wet pussy. You moaned into his mouth as he began to rub small circles on your clit, making you buck your hips into his hand. You were on the verge of your third orgasm of the night, when the door opening followed by a voice caught your attention,

“Hey Sam, have you seen—“

Colby stood in the doorway, a shocked expression plastered on his face, “What the fuck?” He shouted, “I just fucked you and then you hop straight on his cock next?”

“What? You just fucked him?” Sam exclaimed, shocked.

Oh, fuck.

-

dude i’m gonna do a part 2 dw and it’ll be the best tag team of the century. hope you liked this! sorry i didn’t see it sooner!! xx

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twelve-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Sexual Aggression, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, (slight) Knife!Play, Teasing, Alcoholism, DubCon, CNC, TomRiddle.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Under the veil of night, Saturday descended, and despite the persistent sickness that weighed you down, you refused to succumb to the confines of your bed for even a second longer. The piercing ache in your head and the relentless runny nose served as mere whispers against your willpower. Ignoring the protests of your body, you ventured out, guided by a flickering determination.

The castle, shrouded in darkness, seemed to echo with your footsteps as you moved. A hushed, mysterious atmosphere enveloped you as you made your way through the dimly lit corridors. Your steps were purposeful, leading you to the heart of intellectual refuge: the library.

As you entered, the soft glow of the lamplights revealed a haven of knowledge, where ancient tomes and modern texts stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting to divulge their wisdom. The familiar scent of aged parchment and ink filled the air, soothing your senses.

Amidst the quietude, you found a secluded alcove, a sanctuary within a sanctuary. The soft light bathed you as you settled into the embrace of an overstuffed armchair, its fabric worn by countless readers before you. The weight of the books in your hands felt both grounding and exhilarating, as if the knowledge contained within could lift you from the heaviness of your illness.

The hours slipped away, the silence broken only by the occasional shuffle of pages and the distant ticking of an ancient clock. Lost in the world of words, you found solace, momentarily escaping not only the physical discomfort but also the emotional turmoil that had plagued you since your clandestine encounters with Mattheo.

Gods, why the fuck were you always thinking about him? Regardless of what you did, that man was in your head--there was no escaping his ghost. Every thought of him wrapped around your mind like a suffocating vine, an inescapable plague that refused to release its hold. His touch, a lingering memory etched into your skin, haunted your senses--the way his hands roamed your body, the warmth of his breath against your neck.

His eyes, a deep, intoxicating brown, transformed in the sunlight, creating ripples of amber like liquid chocolate. The memory of his lips, plush and knowing, ignited a storm of conflicting emotions within you, a potent blend of desire and resentment. Your stomach churned with a strange concoction of yearning and frustration, especially when you recalled the sensation of his messy, curly hair brushing against the sensitive skin between your thighs.

Damn him, you thought--the intensity of your emotions amplifying with each passing moment. You loathed him with a passion that had become entangled with an inexplicable longing. The line between hatred and desire blurred, leaving you entwined in a web of conflicting emotions, unable to escape his ghostly presence in your thoughts. You knew you hated him, you just couldn't really remember the reason why anymore.

Deciding to finally call it a night, you pushed up from the chair, moving back into the shadows of the library as you meticulously returned the book back to its designated shelf, the profound words of the author echoing in your mind. Just as you were about to spin around, a sudden shift in the library's atmosphere sent a shiver down your spine, and an all-too-familiar presence seemed to materialize behind you.

The scent of whiskey filled the air, its subtle aroma enveloping your surroundings, and before you could react, a pair of unsteady arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into an unexpected embrace. The touch was rough, not a huge departure from the usual Mattheo, but enough to be entirely noticeable--and his warm breath brushed against your ear as he spoke, his words slightly slurred but not entirely incoherent.

"Raven," he purred, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "What a delightful surprise to find you here at this hour...how utterly unexpected."

You inhaled sharply, his hands snaking around your waist, pulling you back against him with surprising force. Instinctively, your fingers gripped the edge of the bookshelf in front of you, the polished wood cool against your skin. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you breathless and lightheaded, the overwhelming scent of Mattheo's cologne mingled with a hint of alcohol surrounding you.

Your voice trembled as you tried to keep it steady. "Mattheo...what the hell are you doing here..."

"Why so shocked, princess?" He breathed, his warm breath sending goosebumps cascading down your neck. His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending an electric jolt through your body. "Can't a man of my caliber simply grace this library with his presence whenever he pleases, without arousing suspicion?"

His voice dripped with a mix of confidence and mischief, his hands tightening their hold on you, making it clear that he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. A familiar knot tightened in your stomach, signaling the imminent loss of control. If you didn't gather your composure swiftly, you knew he would once again reduce you to powerlessness, just as he always did.

"Oh, pardon my ignorance..." you responded, your voice thick with sarcasm. "I just never thought I'd witness such a rare event...it's not every day we see a man of your 'caliber' roaming the library, never mind past midnight on a Saturday..."

Mattheo's deep, rumbling groan resonated in the narrow space between you, his hands abandoning your sides to pin you against the shelf. His lips, warm and demanding, brushed your ear with a possessive hunger.

"There's that mouth," he growled, his voice laced with raw need. "Fuck, I've missed that mouth...”

"Matt-" a soft, involuntary whimper escaped your throat, but your protest was abruptly stifled by an unfamiliar sensation. "What-"

Something cold, unyielding, and metal pressed against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. Panic clawed at your senses, urging you to gasp for air, but his palm closed around your throat, silencing you with a ruthless grip. Desperation flickered in your eyes as you tried to make sense of the situation, your gaze fixated on the glint of the blade he was dragging up your arm.

"Mattheo-" you managed to croak, fear and disbelief mingling in your voice. "Is that...a fucking knife?"

Mattheo's silence hung heavy in the air, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he loomed over you, pinning you forcefully against the shelf. Your hands clung desperately to the wooden edges, the pressure turning your knuckles a pale, ghostly white. With deliberate intent, Mattheo tugged you back against his chest, only slightly, as he directed the switchblade toward your bust and pressed the sharp edge against the fabric of your shirt--the metal biting into the soft material as he cut a precise horizontal line just above your breasts.

"Fuck," the word was almost a guttural moan as it left his inebriated lips. "I've definitely missed those more..."

"Mattheo-" you stammered, your voice catching in your throat. There were a thousand questions swirling in your mind, but the words refused to escape. "What on earth...what's gotten into you? This...this is sick, even for you."

Mattheo's movements were swift, almost serpentine, as he seized your shoulders and spun you around. Before you could react, he pressed you back against the shelf, your hands instinctively finding his chest for support until he captured both your wrists with one hand and pinned them firmly above your head. Speechless and utterly bewildered, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to process the situation.

He smirked, the expression predatory, leaning in closer. With deliberate slowness, he placed the flat edge of the knife beneath your chin, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. The cold steel against your skin sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, trapped in his intense gaze and the menacing glint of the blade.

"I thought you were the sick one, Raven..."  he purred, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and intensity as he observed your reactions, his grip on your wrists tightening. "Isn't that why you bailed on me last night, hm?"

Any semblance of control you had tried to maintain had now entirely crumbled, dissipating like smoke in the wind. Pinned against the shelf, your hands held captive above your head, and a cold blade pressed against your jaw, you felt a surge of exhilarating helplessness wash over you. You knew, at this moment, your sanity was hanging by the thinnest thread, and you questioned your choices more profoundly than you ever had in your entire life.

If you allowed him do this to you, what else will you allow? Anything?

Anything...

Speechless, you nodded in compliance, unable to form any coherent words. Mattheo's huff of satisfaction sent a shiver down your spine, and his sadistic tone remained as sharp as ever.

"Yeah?" he purred, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Poor thing...let me take a look, hm? Stick out your tongue."

Before you could fully comprehend the situation, your lips parted involuntarily, and Mattheo deftly slid the cool blade between them, tugging down your jaw with a chilling precision. An electric surge coursed through your entire body, every nerve ending tingling under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted, both of you suspended in the charged atmosphere.

He pulled the knife away, and as if in a trance, you slowly extended your tongue, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

Mattheo's jaw tightened, his eyes locked onto your face with a relentless focus, not a blink daring to interrupt his scrutiny. With a steady hand, he pressed the blade against your tongue, his gaze piercing, as if he were a meticulous doctor inspecting a patient, peering down your throat with unsettling precision.

"Seems fine to me, Raven..." he murmured, a flicker of something unsettling dancing in his eyes, sending a twist of unease to your stomach. "But perhaps you're right...perhaps I am sick..."

With deliberate slowness, he lifted the metal off your tongue, tracing it along your jaw before withdrawing it entirely. The blade disappeared into his back pocket, his unwavering gaze never leaving yours, leaving you with a lingering sense of dread and confusion.

"I'm sick and the only cure for my illness are those sweet fucking lips of yours..." he confessed, his free hand caressing the side of your face, the other maintaining a firm grip on your wrists. He drew closer, his eyes fixated on your mouth. "And I'm not talking about these ones..."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart thundering so fiercely it echoed through your entire body. Your thighs ached with a desperate longing.

"Although..." Mattheo leaned in further, his thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip. "They could certainly help..."

With an excruciating slowness that felt like torture, Mattheo leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. The lingering aroma of whiskey swirled around you, intoxicating your senses and making your head spin. Despite your attempts to resist, an involuntary whimper escaped your throat, the sound echoing your helplessness in the face of Mattheo's relentless seduction.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm almost deafening in your ears, as Mattheo's lips finally met yours. His hand slithered under your jaw, his touch both possessive and electrifying. His lips moved over yours with a devouring hunger, as though he aimed to consume not just your mouth but every ounce of your being, leaving you breathless and utterly ensnared in his kiss.

When he drew back, just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze glinted with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Your entire body thrummed with anticipation, yearning for his touch.

He blinked. "You still want to call this off, Raven?"

"We really fucking should," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the charged atmosphere. Your heart raced, the tumultuous conflict within you mirrored in your eyes. "But...I..."

Your words trailed off, swallowed by the intensity of his gaze, his eyes resembling swirling depths that threatened to drown your resolve. A smug smirk played on his lips, his arrogance palpable as he anticipated your next words, relishing the moment. He leaned in closer, releasing his grip on your wrists and bracing his hand against the wood next to your head. You hesitated, caught in the mesmerizing pull of his gaze, a fleeting battle of wills that seemed impossible to win.

"You...?" he prodded, his tone dripping with confidence and challenge, as though he knew he had already won.

"But...I can't," you admitted, your voice a fragile whisper, barely audible against the backdrop of your thudding heart.

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desires and the weight of what you knew was right.His smirk deepened, his eyes narrowing with amusement.

"Can't, or won't?" he challenged, his tone teasing and infuriatingly confident.

His hand on the wood beside your head tightened slightly, a subtle reminder of his strength, his dominance. The proximity between you crackled with tension, the air thick with the unspoken, the moment hanging in the balance like a fragile thread stretched to its limit.

"What we're doing is sick, Mattheo..." you murmured, glimpsing his lips. "I...I never thought we'd be this close...I still smell you on my clothes..."

His eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and desire, his lips curving into a devilish smile. "Sick, perhaps," he admitted, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But you know it's pointless to try and fight it..."

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his chest, tracing the outline of his shirt straining against his powerful shoulders. A shuddering breath escaped you as you felt the undeniable pull, the magnetic force that seemed to bind you to him. With a huff, he gently lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back to meet his intense eyes. The proximity was suffocating, electric, and he leaned in slightly closer, his warm breath mingling with yours, until your lips brushed in a tantalizing whisper.

"Every time you meet my eyes...we both know that you're mine..." he murmured against your mouth, hand falling from your chin and trailing down the front of your chest, slipping through the cut in your shirt he'd made just a few minutes earlier. "I think it's about time you admitted it, princess..."

You gasped at the skin on skin contact, goosebumps raising on your skin, and Mattheo hummed, lips trailing toward your jawline and softly nipping at it.

"Am I all that you think about, Raven?" He whispered, and you could tell that his question wasn't really a question, more of a rhetorical statement. "Did it get too loud, and that's why you tried to shut me out?"

You winced in wake of his words. You wouldn’t be surprised if this man could read your mind at this point.

"You're a constant thought," you whispered, your words hanging in the charged air between you. "It’s fucking overwhelming, Mattheo...I can't keep allowing myself to be consumed by this..."

"Just let go, Raven..." he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. "I've got you..."

Your mind buzzed with irritation, his seductive tones grating against your patience. The audacity to believe he could ever truly possess you sparked a simmering anger within. He didn't have you, he couldn't, and his delusions only served to fray your nerves to the brink.

"No, you don't...you can't..." your voice trembled, a fragile protest as his breath caressed your ear, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt. "Stop manipulating me with your pretty fucking words, Mattheo...you're only making everything more difficult for both of us."

Mattheo's demeanor shifted, tension hardening his features. His hand found your jaw, gripping it tightly as he pulled back, locking eyes with you.

"Do you want me to stop, Raven?" he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Tell me to stop right fucking now, and I'll walk away, won't bother you until Wednesday's session." He drew you closer, his jaw clenched. "Just one fucking word, princess...that's all you need to say."

Your silence hung in the charged air, a battleground where your desires and your convictions clashed. Every fiber of your being screamed for his touch, the magnetic pull between you undeniable, yet your mind raged against the chaos, yearning for simplicity and an end to the torment.

Mattheo's eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He held your gaze, his grip on your jaw tightening imperceptibly. The unspoken tension hung heavy, the weight of your unspoken words suffocating in the charged space between you. The choice, the power to end this dangerous dance, rested on the tip of your tongue, yet you found yourself unable to utter the one word that could bring it all crashing down.

"And that's what I fucking thought..." he husked, the words flowing from his lips with a dangerous poison, one that you wanted, more than anything, to get a taste of. "Don't pretend like you're some meek, innocent little girl when I see that vicious mind working behind your eyes, Raven...you've never been afraid to use that mouth before..."

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm not meek, and certainly no longer innocent...I left my fucking innocence on your stupid lips..."

"And my hands...my cock..." he purred, his voice low and husky, Mattheo's lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes ablaze with desire and triumph. "...let's not forget my tongue..."

That tongue--infuriatingly adept and unforgettable. How could such a maddeningly skilled tongue ever escape your memory? Curse him, you thought, curse him to the depths of hell.

"All I have left is my virginity, Mattheo..." you said, fingers tightening their hold on his shirt, tremors rumbling through your limbs. "If I give you that, too...I'm scared of-"

"I don't want it, Raven..." he cut you off, leaning closer, his voice holding a rare gentleness, the smallest flicker of humanity under his suffocating power and arrogance. "Don't feel like you need to give it to me."

Your pulse leapt, throat constricting. "Then what do you want?" You struggled to keep your gaze on his eyes, resisting the pull of his delicious lips. "What do you fucking want from me?"

"I want you to need me like I need you." The answer was quick, almost involuntary, as though he needed absolutely no time to think about it.

Your brows pinched, your lungs hitching, oxygen fleeing you. "Like you need-"

"Wet, breathless, and moaning my name..." he murmured, his lips tracing a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His free hand mapped your curves, finding solace on your hip. "That's how I need you."

Your eyelids fluttered uncontrollably as his wet lips trailed down to your neck, assaulting the sensitive skin. His tousled curls brushed against your cheek, setting your flesh ablaze, an uncontrollable fire sparked by his touch. Gods, he was fucking infuriating, in the best way possible. This man possessed a way with words that felt unparalleled, a skill that left you defenseless against his magnetic pull.

His hand started to inch lower, tracing a path down your thigh, and a surge of panic shot through you.

"Not here, Matty..." you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, urgency coloring your words.

"Who's around, princess?" he murmured against your skin, his lips ghosting over your neck, finding the hem of your skirt. "Just be quiet for me, pretty girl..."

Your lungs sputtered, nails digging into his skin, his hand slowly trailing upwards on your inner thigh.

"Please, Mattheo...someone could-" you whispered urgently, your words catching in your throat as desire and fear collided within you.

"Walk me back to my dorm," he said sharply, a plan forming in his eyes. "I'll pretend I'm plastered, and you can sling me over your shoulder. If anyone sees, it'll just look like you're doing me a favour..."

Your jaw fell open in incredulity, but before you could utter a protest, Mattheo took charge. He let go of your waist, pulling you off the shelf with a swift motion. His arm encircled you, feigning a drunken stumble, as he leaned heavily against you, weaving a convincing facade of inebriation.

You took a second to button up your cardigan, hiding the cut in your blouse that Mattheo had made with his blade--and without waiting even a second more of time, he urged the two of you down the isle and into the heart of the library. Fear gripped you like a vice as you made your way through the silent library, Mattheo pretending to be completely intoxicated, his weight bearing down on you with every step.

Every creak of the floorboards felt deafening in the silence, and your heart raced with the dread of being caught in this reckless charade. With each step, you prayed that you would go unnoticed, your mind wrestling with the gravity of the situation and the potential consequences of your impulsive actions.

As you tiptoed out of the library and stepped into the silent corridor, the nighttime air flowed through the stone walls, cooling the fevered heat in your cheeks. The tension in your shoulders lessened, but the fire in your core raged on, fueled by Mattheo's intense proximity. His cologne, intertwined with the scent of alcohol and cigarettes on his tongue, seemed to possess a hypnotic allure, drawing you in with an inexplicable pull.

You shot your head around, ensuring no one was within earshot, before stealing a furtive glimpse at Mattheo. Your voice emerged as a mere breath, carried away by the night breeze as it left your lips.

"How did you know I'd be there?" You questioned. "In the library."

Persisting in his flawless portrayal of the world's most inebriated wizard, Mattheo barely cracked his eyes open at your question, his response delayed as though he were lost in his own haze. For a moment, it seemed like he might not answer at all, leaving you hanging on the edge of anticipation. Then, a sly smile tugged at his lips, and your stomach twisted with a mix of curiosity and unease.

"I asked your friend," he drawled, glimpsing you with the worlds most fleeting glance. "Emily."

Your heart stopped. "No you-"

You began, but your words were abruptly cut short as the sharp click of polished shoes echoed through the corridor. Your gaze shot to the source of the sound, and there, with an unsettling glint in his eyes, stood Tom Riddle himself, adorned in his pristine prefect attire. His darkened narrowed eyes bored into you, suspicion and sadistic amusement flickering in their depths.

"Evening my dear witch…Mattheo," he purred, his voice dripping with sinister charm as he advanced, each step deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey under the moonlit night. "What might be going on here, if you don't mind me asking..."

Your heart seemed to freeze, its rhythmic beats replaced by an echoing silence that engulfed you. Time slowed to a crawl, every second stretching into an eternity, giving you ample opportunity to feel the weight of the situation sinking in. The world blurred at the edges, leaving only Tom's penetrating gaze fixed upon you, like a raptor locking onto its target.

Under the burden of Mattheo's seemingly unconscious form against your shoulder, you let out an irritated grunt, trying to maintain an appearance of nonchalance. You met Tom's eyes with a forced composure, your every movement calculated to appear casual despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"I found him passed out on a bench outside the library as I was leaving..." each word hung in the air, carrying the weight of a carefully constructed lie, a fragile facade concealing the complexity of the truth beneath. "He's bloody wasted, I couldn't just leave him there..."

Tom's eyes flickered with disappointment, his sharp scrutiny never wavering as he glanced over Mattheo's apparently intoxicated state. There was a subtle sigh of resignation, as if he had expected nothing less from his wayward brother.

"Very well," he said, his tone holding a hint of exasperation. "Take him back to his dormitory, I trust you can manage that. And do remind him that his actions won't go unnoticed, even in the cover of darkness..."

His gaze drilled into you, a silent warning echoing in his eyes, before he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor. With a lingering sense of foreboding, you guided Mattheo toward his dorm, the weight of the night's events pressing down upon you like an invisible burden.

——————-

Chapter thirteen->

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Blast to the past

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 15

Prompt: Time travel

Rated: T

CW: Mild blood and gore; Mild horror; Monsters

Tags: Steve Harrington whump; Magic; Time travel (duh); Royal Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington needs a break

Notes: Some days, you get up, think of nothing bad, and you check your phone and your artist buddy @house-of-the-moving-image has sent you the most incredible mini comic in the world and the brainworms go crazy and you bash out 990 words in a weird fugue. We mayyy have been screaming about this to each other a bit too excessively. It may have grown a back story. I may wanna write 100k of this. Help.

“Oh, Steven, let's go to Europe, they said,” Steve grouses. “There’s culture and shit, they said. We can visit the castles. It’ll be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, they said.” 

Well, it damn well is turning out to be one hell of an experience! 

His side is on fire, his ankle stings with every step he hobbles, and he’s starting to bleed through his clothes. Just what he needs! Leave a warm, coppery trail to lead these things right to him. 

While he drags himself down the dark corridor, he wonders if he can sue. The guides did warn against leaving the travel group, on the one hand. 

On the other, they should probably have detailed the possible consequences. Like getting lost in the ruins and being chased by monsters with rotting grey skin and maws full of fangs, and fucking claws that slice through clothes and skin like a knife through butter.

This kind of shit never happens in Hawkins. He’s never going on holiday with his parents again.

Something behind him clatters. When he whips around, the shadows at the end of the corridor move. He hears snarls and sniffing, the tick of claws against stone. They’re coming closer. 

“Shit,” Steve swears, forces himself to go faster, using one hand against the wall for support. “Shit, shit, shit, c’mon!” 

He doesn’t even know where he’s going, just that he needs to get away if he doesn’t want to be monster fodder. 

His fingers catch on something. 

There’s … a narrow doorway in the wall, half hidden by a tangle of thick vines. A sliver of silver light is falling through it. 

“What the-” 

Something behind him shrieks triumphantly. 

Steve doesn’t think for another second, just ducks through the doorway. 

He finds himself in a cavernous room, moonlight trickling in through arched windows. Right in the middle, on a dais, is a throne carved from solid stone. On it is a tall, hooded figure. 

Except that isn’t true. As his eyes adjust to the light, he realizes that the throne is covered in what looks like an old shroud, tattered and torn with age and vaguely human-shaped. It’s overgrown by more vines, like it has been here for a very long time. 

And that is the moment the monsters slam into the doorway behind him. 

He yelps and stumbles further into the room, trips on the first steps of the dais and lands square on his ass. The monsters snarl and snap at him, and for a blissful second, he thinks they won’t fit through the doorway. 

But then the first distorts its body like a snake’s jaw and squeezes through. Steve watches in horror as they trickle inside, surrounding the dais like a pack of feral dogs. One of them swipes at him with its claw, and he instinctively shuffles up the stairs, backwards and on all fours. The monster lunges after him-

-and hesitates at the foot of the dais.

Like it’s afraid, like there’s some invisible barrier. 

It’s only now that he realizes the steps are inlaid with an intricate pattern of symbols, shining in the moonlight like liquid silver. The monsters try to get at him, but every time they touch the symbols, they recoil as if burned. 

“Ha!” Steve’s mouth tugs into a hysterical grin. “Can’t cross, huh? Well, too bad, you ugly-” 

The largest of the monsters steps over the barrier. A sizzle of silver sparks runs over its form as it does and it jowls like an injured cat, but it still advances. Steve swears and skitters further back, until his back hits something solid. The throne. 

The creatures are moving slowly, like something is physically holding them back, but they are gaining on him inch by inch. There’s no escape, except … 

Steve clambers onto the throne with clumsy limbs. The shroud is cold and brittle under his hands and the vines tear into his bleeding skin, but it’s the only place he can still go. If the monsters are afraid of the dais, maybe the throne will be enough to deter them. Maybe he’ll be safe here, maybe he can wait until help arrives, maybe- 

And then it happens. 

A sound booms through the silence, rattles his bones. A sound like the chime of a clock. 

Then another. 

And another. 

Steve yelps and covers his ears, screws his eyes shut. The light of the sigils on the ground seems blinding all of a sudden. 

The creatures howl. 

And then everything goes quiet. 

Steve waits with baited breath for the feeling of claws tearing at his legs, but nothing happens. The snarls and growls are gone. 

Instead, birdsong fills his ears. The faint sound of footsteps and voices, hooves on cobblestone and the clang of metal against metal. Instead of dust and decay, the room suddenly smells like wood and smoke and forest. The light shining through his eyelids isn’t silver anymore, but golden. 

“Fuck,” Steve breathes. “The hell was all that?” 

“Oh, those?” somebody chuckles. Somebody very close by. “Those were wraiths. Scary little fuckers, aren’t they?” 

Steve swears his heart misses a beat. Because upon closer inspection, the roughness of the vines and shroud against his skin is gone. Instead, there’s a body under his, a hand running idly down his side, all the way down to his ass. He’s sitting in someone’s lap. 

Steve snaps his eyes open. There’s a guy looking back at him, a guy with a shit-eating grin set in a handsome, dimpled face, framed by a spill of dark curls. There’s a crown on his head. 

“Now what I’d like to know,” says the guy, and gives Steve’s ass a hearty squeeze. “Is what I did to deserve getting a pretty little thing like you dropped in my lap. Not that I’m complaining.” 

Steve does what any sensible person would do in his situation. 

He faints. 

And that’s his first encounter with King Edward the Banished. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Could you describe how you see some of the creeps' rooms? Like what they havein there or if their roms are messy or always clean? :)

I decided that for this one, I would do my most popular creeps, if you or anyone else reading would like more headcanons on different creeps, let me know and i will be happy to!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Toby's room is located on the third floor of the mansion/manor (havent decided which one i like better) and is the third door on the left

His door doesn't really have anything fancy on it, it is a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate, just like the rest of the creeps

His room has a very grunge-esc and indie vibe to it

His bed is a twin sized bed, with a deep brown comforter, faded yellow sheets and two pillows with no pillowcases on them

He has 2 squishmellows, the hamster and the mango, they sit on his bed, and when he sleeps he uses one as an additional pillow, and the other one he hugs tightly to his chest

He has a lot of tapestries, and not many posters

He has posters for the beetles, fleetwood mac, and ozzy osbourne, and they are all on the wall above his bed

The rest of the tapestries are generic designs with skeletons and stars

He has a small couch under the window of his room, that has a small purple blanket thrown over the top of the couch

He has a lot of fake plants and vines in his room, because he can't take care of real plants to save his life

He has a wooden desk, and on that desk he has his laptop, headphones, tablet, hairspray, books, and writing utensils

Amongst those other things, he also has a few dishes on his desk

He uses his closet as a makeshift house for animals he finds (often possums and raccoons) so that he can help them return to full health, before setting them free once more

However, he does have 3 pet raccoons that just kept on coming back after he set them free, so he just kind of uses his closet for them

His clothes are stored on a clothing rack next to his couch

He has one nightstand on the left side of his bed, where he keeps his phone, charger, and in the drawer, he has spare masks, gloves, medications, and bandages/bandaids

He has a tv in his room, on the wall in front of his bed

All things considered, his room isnt too messy, he has a few dirty clothes here and there, and a few dishes, but it's not terrible

Masky

His room is on the third floor, and is the second door on the right

His door is also not decorated, just a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate

His room reeks of cigarettes

His bed is right under his window, it is queen sized and is the first thing you see as you open his door

He has basic white sheets, pillows with basic white pillowcases, and a basic brown comforter

He has a desk on the wall to the left of his bed, where he keeps books, notebooks, writing utensils, and his laptop

Next to his desk, he has an array of weapons

Guns, knifes, crossbows, etc

He has them displayed on the wall, he absolutely just stares at them from time to time, very proud of them

He doesn't have many decorations, but he does have a few trinkets Toby and Sally have given him

He has two nightstands, one has a lamp and the book hes reading, and the other has an ashtray and his current pack of cigarettes

In the drawers he has his medications, and his reading glasses (he refuses to accept the fact he's old, be nice to him about the glasses)

The jacket he normally wears is almost always thrown over his desk chair, ready for it to be used the next day

His closet is only really halfway full, so he uses the other half to store his pajamas, socks and underwear

He has a bunch of records and loves to play them

Takes him back to the good ol days

He is probably the second cleanest on this list

Eyeless Jack

His bedroom is on the second floor, and is the first door to your left

His door has been painted black and his entire room is soundproof

The black door is partly because he just likes it that way and partly to differentiate himself from Laughing Jack, which both door plates just read "Jack"

He has a twin sized bed with grey sheets and pillowcases, and a black comforter

His windows are covered by blackout curtains, making his room one of the darkest

Next to his bed, he has a nightstand with a lamp

Thats the only light source he allows

On the other side of his bed, there is a book cart with books (duh) and a few plants

He also has a bookshelf, but all of the books on the shelf are strictly educational books (studies on anatomy, different illnesses for different creatures, etc)

His desk has his laptop, tablet and a stack of notebooks, all full with his neat handwriting and labled with different things

He doesnt have many decorations in his room, but he does have some framed pictures of his friends from around the mansion

He also has a mini fridge with his stash of fresh food, it is kept clean and is restocked once every 2 weeks

He keeps his room spotless, no dust on anything, bed always made, etc

Definetly the cleanest on this list, if not in the entire house

Jeff

Jeff's room is on the second floor, and is the second door on the left

His door is very much decorated with crime scene tape, a stop sign and a small band poster

His room is very dirty, clothes, trash and dishes are strewn about the room, with a small path from his door to his bed

He has a twin sized bed (if you can even call it that) it is a worn out matress on the floor, with no sheets, pillows without a pillowcase, and a black comforter

He has a nightstand with his vape, medications and phone on it

He has a desk with a pc, nintendo switch, hairspray and makeup but he doesn't really sit at his desk much

His walls are completely covered in band posters, pride flags, road signs, and of course, his tv

He has an electric guitar, but he doesn't play it much

He only knows how to play MSI songs, but he is suprisingly good at them

He has a mannequin in his room as well, "Lucy", he named her, she is missing a leg, and four of her fingers on her left hand, jeff has stuck a knife through her eye and placed stickers over where her nipples would be as makeshift pasties

It is a running joke that Lucy is Jeff's one true love, but they have to keep their love a secret because people wouldn't understand them being together

BEN even bought lucy a cheap wig off of amazon, which sits crooked and tangled on her head

Lucy holds Jeff's bags, and his knives

His room doesn't exactly smell bad, but it doesn't smell pleasent

0/10 PLEASE DO NOT GO IN THERE WHATEVER YOU DO, YOU WILL BE MUTATED

BEN

He is on the third floor, and is the third door on the right

His door is a simple wooden door with a bronze plate that says his name

His bed is very low, almost touching the floor

There are no sheets, no pillowcases and a basic blue comforter

He has LED lights on the ceiling, which are almost always turned green

His desk has a full gaming set up, double moniters, and LED headphones, keyboard and mouse

Behind all of that, he has his hairspray, deodorant, and nintendo switch OLED

On the wall in front of his bed, his tv is mounted, under his tv he has a ps5, an xbox1 and an n64

He also has a small bookshelf where he stores all of his physical game copies

He has a bunch of blue light tapestries, almost all of them have at least one skeleton on it

He also has some posters for his favorite animes and video games (Black butler, one piece, the occassional hatsune miku poster...)

SPEAKING OF HATSUNE MIKU

He is throughly obsessed with her

He has a bunch of figurines he keeps around his gaming set up, he has a hatsune miku plush that sits on his shelf of video games, and he also bought a miku body pillow "as a joke"

And you better believe he has a few t-shirts

He keeps the body pillow stuffed under his bed, away from anyone who could possibly see her

I wouldn't say he classifies as a weeb, but he's definitely up there in the ranks

He also has a snack cart by his pc set up, one tier with drinks, the other two with snacks like chips, cookies, pastries, etc

As for cleanliness, i would say he isnt too dirty

He has a few dirty dishes on his desk, a few dirty shirts and hoodies here and there but other than that, his room is pretty clean

[stell404]

𝗜𝗜𝗜. 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗝𝗘𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗦

𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗔'𝗦 𝗕𝗢𝗫

🎧

Family jewels masterlist | back to navigation Parings: Sully family x reader, jake sully x daughter!reader Word count: 900 Notes: Hope ya'll like this, next chapter wont be out for a while because I'm gonna be very very busy, so so sorry. And to explain the title: "Out come flying all the secrets of Pandora's box" means that their secrets are out, the people know they are not the perfect family they always show. Taglist: @lorre-verie @eywas-heir @damiiworld @arianapjs @arminsgfloll @buterccup @ifuckinghatemathrahhhhhh @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @inluvwithneteyam @il0vejj @neteyamforlife @ducks118 @ssc7514@liyahsocorro @saltedcoffeescotch @im-in-a-pansexual-panik WARNINGS: Mentions de@th, scuic!de

🎧

Weeks have passed since their escapade and things have cooled down, they are still not back to normal but hey, this is something I guess.

[Name] finally, after nights and nights of debates with the little voices in her head, went on with her plan—her plan to tell her father about her dream to do her Iknimaya.

The night was calm, leaves and the hanging vines from the hallelujah mountains swayed softly with the wind. Calm chirping noise can be heard lightly. The clan was putting things away for the night, hunters and warriors finally resting, healers making their way out of the healer's tent. It is strange for the Omaticaya to have calm nights like this, hopefully it will last long.

[Name] walked around High camp looking for her father, she noticed how things were calm hoping not to ruin it with what she's gonna do. She quickly found her father sitting down and a stump of rock, sharpening his hunting knife.

[Name] stood in front of her dad, clearing her throat to get her fathers attention.

"What do you need?" Jake asked with an un-enthusiastic tone, dropping the knife he was sharpening.

"I was just wondering, you know, I mean—I'm kinda getting old now and like, don't you think, I mean I don't know but..." she rambled, trailing off and mumbling at the end.

"[Name]," he sighed, "get to the point."

"I want to do my Iknimaya, as soon as possible." she said, hoping her father would agree.

Silence. Silence filled the space between them.

A beat passed.

And then another one.

"No." Jake said, breaking the silence.

"Why?" There it was. Always, why? why? why?

"Because," he paused. He himself does not know the answer, was it because he is worried, because he wants to shield her from everything bad? Or was it because he doesn't trust her? Why?

"Because you are not mature enough." he said, finally finding the "right" words.

"Lo'ak is younger than me and much more immature and still he got his Iknimaya first."

"Your brother is ready, he is strong."

"And I'm not? Please, I am on top of my training. I've beaten the strongest of warriors so tell me, is that not good enough?"

"See! This is the reason, you are being immature right now!" Jake shouted, anger tainted his voice, attracting the attention of the people as they heard their Olo'eyktan and his first daughter fighting.

Neytiri heard their quarrel from afar, she ran straight to them to try and stop them.

"[Name], stop it." her mother warned, holding her wrist.

"And to answer your question, no, that is not good enough." Jake added, gasps can be heard from the crowd that formed around them. [Name] felt her heart break at this.

"Nothing I do is never good enough." she mumbled.

Jake didn't know what happened but he snapped, he didn't know why but he did, "Get out, get out! I do not want to see you right now!" he shouted.

"Do you ever want to see me, dad—oh sorry, I mean—sir?" she said in a mocking tone.

"You think you're so wise, huh?" he chuckled.

"Well if you're such an amazing mighty warrior, go do it, go! Complete your Iknimaya." he shouted, voice laced with venom. "Kill yourself for all I care!"

[Name] was stunned, "Sir, please—" she spoke with a shaky voice, She was scared, scared of her father. The one who was supposed to shield her from men who treated her like this. The one who was supposed to love her more than anything.

"No, no, no. Don't 'Sir' Me. You do what you want right? You're responsible right? You're smart. You're strong, oh so STRONG!" he laughed.

"Jake! It is the middle of the night, are you crazy? She might die, she will die." her mother hissed.

"Then let her die. She believes she is so strong, she believes she can do it, she wants to do it, so why stop her?" Jake chuckled once more, this time his voice was filled with venom. She did want this, hell, she wants it more than anything, but she didn't want it to be like...this.

[Name] couldn't process what was happening, she knew her father hates her, she knew that she was one of her fathers greatest regrets, but to let her die? She felt like a thousand bullets were shot straight to her heart.

"I hate you!" she screeched. She did not mean it, of course she didn't, she loves her dad, more than she will ever love herself.

But does he love her? "Yeah? Then go! Go and never come back!" he shouted back.

"Jake!" Neytiri hissed, the grip she has on her daughter's wrist loosens. [Name] noticed this, taking advantage of it and pushing her mother aside so she could run.

"[Name]! [Name]! come back!" she heard her siblings shout out to her, voices quivering; but she did not care, she just wanted to get away.

She ran and ran, as fast as she could, with no particular location in mind. Just running through the woods, the tall grass, the bioluminescent plants of the Pandorian Forest.

She found herself laying on the soft grass. Her eyes were blurry, tears running down her face, letting out whimpers and sobs ever so slightly.

She cried and cried until there were no more tears left in her.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Blood Rain | Katniss Everdeen

Pairing: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader (District4!reader)

Summary: Your mission in the games was to get the victors who the love of your life wanted to be allies with. You did it, but it is never easy.

Warning/s: angst and fluff, this is really just a little blurb, blood, blood rain, death, madness, weapons, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Send requests for Katniss, Johanna and Cressida, I BEG YOU ALLL!!!

Where the hell is Finnick?!

Your angry thoughts continued to swarm you as you forced your legs to move along towards the beach. The beach. Water. You would quite literally kill for a few drops. All of you would.

Your feet were sticking to the leaves on the ground of the giant jungle due to the blood that covered you completely head to toe. The knifes pressed onto your suit were slightly digging into the skin of your legs as you took bigger steps, trying to get to the water at the Cornucopia as fast as you possibly could.

The biggest mistake you could have ever made was separating at the beginning of the games and now you had to suffer the consequences. Not that you had any choice, really.

When your platform raised up, putting you in the place from your nightmares you were standing quite far away from Finnick. The flash of the bright rays of sunshine were blinding you for a while and before you knew it you had to jump off of the pedastil. However you faced a major problem once you got in the middle of the water. You were rounding up Beetee, Wiress, Blight and Johanna who weren't able to swim. But once you did round them up you were attacked by Enobaria and Brutus. You couldn't fight them on your own as you tried to help your allies. You had no choice, you had to leave the idea of joining Katniss, Peeta and Finnick like you planned to. You had to run for the shore and loose yourselves in the vines and thick threes.

And that's how you ended up alone with Wiress, Beetee, Blight and Jo for a few days. You were severely dehydrated already so you were very happy once you heard something light hitting the leaves of the trees all around you. Only one thing could make those sounds. Raindrops. Now you could only imagine the shock planted onto your face once you realized that the things that were coming down onto you and your allies was not rain. Well, not rain made out of water. It was blood. It was burning you and was covering you too quickly.

This torture lasted for what felt like ages, but once it finally came to the stop you still didn't get out of the forest immediately.

As you ran ahead of the rest of the group, trying to escape the nightmares held within the forest, the living nightmares that tried to get you, the only thing on your mind was the safety of your lover. Katniss. God, you hoped that she was alive.

You didn't see her since the night before the games. You were lying with her in her bed, bringing her comport after yet another life inducing nightmare with which you were a little too familiar with. You met during your Victor's Tour the year that you won, but you became inseparable the moment she volunteered for the games to save poor Prim.

She was your everything. If you lost her you were sure that you wouldn't be able to pull through. So the moment Finnick and you heard about the rebellion you didn't waste a second, you joined immediately. You immediately accepted to join the plan of keeping the mockingjay safe. To get her out.

The moment you stepped out of the forest, yelling for your allies you heard the voice that belonged to an angel shout your name. It was the voice of your angel.

You tuned around as Katniss practically jumped on you, hugging you so tightly that you felt like you couldn't breathe. But it didn't bother you at all. The thought of her was one of the only thing that kept you going for a very long time now. You wrapped your arms around her quickly, afraid that she would disappear.

"What happened, Y/N?" Finnick's concerned voice brought you to reality, you had to separate from Katniss so you moved yourself away so you could look at Finnick but you never moved your hand that felt right into Katniss' away.

"It was horrible," You admitted, sighing a bit. "Jo, Blight, Beetee, Wiress and I rounded up at the beginning, but then Enobaria attacked us by the Cornucopia."

The rest of your allies that came from the forest weren't far away from you. Johanna was right on the other side of you, sticking her axe into the sand on the beach as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Beetee was leaned over, still in pain from the knife that he received in the back. Wiress was walking in the circle around you constantly repeating "Tick-Tock" over and over again. All of them were covered in blood just like you were.

The sight alone brought an uneasy feeling in Katniss. She looked at you once again, clear signs of dehydration were there along with the heavy breathing as you still tried to get the air into your lungs and the fact that you looked like you bathed in blood was enough for her to gripp your hand tighter in hers.

"We had no choice but to run for the forest," You continued your story, Finnick's pair of sea green eyes mirroring your own, a reminder of where you come from, watched you intensely as you spoke. "We stayed there up until now."

"What then?"

"Tick-Tock."

"We heard the rain coming down, but it wasn't rain." You ran your free hand through your hair as you let out a sigh.

"It turned out it was blood. So much blood. It was falling on us, choking us. We were stumbling around trying to get here gagging on it blind. But then Blight hit the force field..." You looked down, grief swallowing you at the reminder of Johanna's face at that moment. "And now he's gone..."

"Tick-Tock."

"What's going on with her?" Peeta asked, looking at Wiress.

"She's in shock," Beetee said as he removed his glasses, wiping his face while he tried to get rid of the blood that covered him. "The dehydration isn't helping. Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some." Katniss' soft voice next to you spoke and you turned to her again, your eyes full of love.

"How about you go wash up?" Finnick smirked at you, obviously catching the look that you send Katniss. You just glared at your district partner, but you listened and started to walk towards the water, pulling Katniss along with you.

You're not letting her out of your sight again.

As you washed the blood off of yourself, your hair, suit, knives and everything you talked to Katniss. You felt like you could listen to her forever. And at the moment when you dove into the water completely to get the rest of the blood to go away Katniss followed the suit. You never took your eyes off of her as you watched her place her hands on your face, giving you warm smile, the smile that was only reserved for the ones she loved the most, before she pulled you in, locking your lips with hers. Away from the cameras for a few short moments.

From that moment on you swore to yourself that you would follow her anywhere.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[queer-overwatch]

Can I get one of OverWatch where the reader is the S/O of Genji, Hanzo, Junkrat, Roadhog, and Junker Queen? Like, How would they react to a reader who has a sword that looks normal at first but when their S/O sees their partner in danger, the sword reveals itself as a cursed sword where the blade changes color and their S/O changes into a demon form (whenever the curse takes effect) to protect their partner and change back once they're safe.

Genji,Hanzo, JQ, Junkrat, and Roadhog w/ a plant sword and demon powers

Sorry it's all headcanons -Xor & Frisk

Junker Queen

❦ ════ •⊰♔⊱• ════ ❦

Ms.Ma'am is FLABBERGASTED

Also lowkey jealous bc thats so cool???? If she could she'd yoink it but since it's your's she won't

She would totally say your sword and Gracie (her knife) are besties

Finds your demon form so incredibly cool

Would absolutely try and fight you while your in it, just to see how it'd go

She can handle herself so it probably wouldn't happen very often

But when it does she's lowkey so into it bc yeah, fuck shit up bbg

Roadhog

━━━━━━━𓃟━━━━━━━━

It's hard to impress this man .

Even harder so for him to get into danger he can't handle.

Seeing you use your sword for the first time absolutely left him keeling.

He was so lost for a moment because who in junker town uses a sword when most people have ranged weapons.

He was surprised at how well you handled yourself , especially with your short temper.

Watching you transform was something else , he half expected something else

But a demon that's something else

Left him speechless more speechless than normal

100% let you know how much he appreciates you afterwards.

Actually make that 200% with a side of approval and cuddles

Junkrat

⫷════ •⊰♨⊱• ════⫸

he's been trying to steal your sword it was why he got with you before he fell In love

the moment he sees what that can do he just wants it , he wants to hold it and tell you , that you've found something gorgeous

He completely forgot the danger for a second before a junker grabbed him by the throat

He was littleraly in awe watching you cut them down, until one of them managed to get the upper hand.

Immediately made the comment that he picked a "feisty one"

100% asks you to show him how you did all of that

Tried to bite your sword afterwards and chipped a tooth

Genji

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::[]==()

At first he's generally a little startled he never expected you to hold so much potential when Null Sector cornered him .

He loved watching the vines and flowers wrap around your sword it seems so cool and he definitely wanted to try it .

After you'd gotten hurt and decided as a last sitch effort to I leash your demon is he was worried about how the fight might go.

You were very injured at the end but watching you cut and claw down the massive robot he made sure you got the medical treatment you deserved

100% he teaches you how to defend yourself he doesn't want you getting hurt like that again

He also begs to try out your fancy sword , he lets you use his in returns

Hanzo

≫━─━─━─━─◈─━─━─━─━⫸

Bro does not know how to feel

Flashbacks to his brother

Also finds it interesting though in more of a "watching from a distance" way

Also isn't in danger too often though its more likely for him

Out of everyone would probably ask the most logical questions like where your sword came from, how it does all that cool shit, can he try it- etc etc

Would also probably wanna try fighing you though just to try and train for if he ever comes into contact with someone who had a similar ability

[delcakoo]

camellia²⋆.⚘࿔ y.jw

part one

SUMMARY ! only days after the heart-racing encounter in jungwon’s garden, you’re stunned to say the least when you find said prince right outside your window in an ‘undercover disguise’ no less. what are you to do when he offers his hand and promise of an adventurous first date throughout town? keeping an eye on a clueless yet flirty prince couldn’t be too disastrous.. right?

PAIRING ! prince!jungwon x gardener!f!reader

WC ! 5.5k

GENRE ! fluff, crack, adventure!

WARNINGS ! flirty jungwon. being chased by someone with a knife (it’ll make sense i swear)

a/n: finally the long awaited part 2 is here for valentines and won’s (late) bday gift T-T i wouldn’t say u have to read part 1 to understand, but i recommend it for sure! i hope it’s worth the wait, please enjoy and lmk what u think <3

while your cottage may not be much to look at from first glance, you personally found it to be just as exquisite as any crystal mansion or skyscraping palace.

ever since you’d moved away to the capital to further pursue your career in gardening, the little wooden house smack in the middle of town had quickly become your safe haven.

of course, you being you, went ahead to make sure anyone who glanced inside for even a split second would know it belonged to someone who had a passion for nature; sleek vines overgrowing the walls and ceilings, arrangements of potted plants scattered throughout every room and hall, along with an abundance of miniature scented candles and woodland critter figurines placed carefully to enhance the forest environment.

yes, most of your neighbours (that you’d regrettably not even bothered to say hi to yet) probably thought a crazy old witch must be inhabiting such a strangely furnished building, but you weren’t too bothered when everyday you got the chance to wake up surrounded by earth’s most beautiful creations, similarly to today; where everything was going just as it normally would.

you’d calmly risen at almost precisely eight o’clock, eagerly yanking away your curtains to absorb a deep inhale of the sunshine outside. while examining the view, you could make out the breathtaking sight of the yang’s castle in the far distance. it looked magnificent as always, the flag of the capital waving proudly on one of its pillars.

though now, you recognised it as not just the place where you worked; but also jungwon’s home — prince jungwon’s, you realise with an uncomfortable frown. you push away from the window, pacing over to your closet with newfound thoughts of the handsome boy flooding through your brain.

his stupidly attractive appearance even in nothing but silk pyjamas, the mischievous gaze he pierced you with as you sat atop his lap, how his fingers brushed your hips ever so gently and the way you could practically feel the softness of his pink lips up against—

no. you strictly pause, pulling out a pair of overalls. the maid was right to be disgusted, you remind yourself. i’m there to do my job and plant flowers, not to become involved with someone who shouldn’t even be sparing me a glance, you think with gritted teeth, trying to reassure yourself that you didn’t care despite the mere thought of never speaking to the prince again sending a horrible feeling to the pit of your stomach.

with a sigh, you only get your pyjama top halfway off your body when the sound of a surprised yelp coming from outside meets your ears. when you snap your head over to the glass and see nothing but your neighbours house as usual, your brows furrow suspiciously, ever so slowly pulling your shirt back on.

just as you were about to give up and continue changing, the very top of a straw hat pokes up from the bottom of your window.

your eyes widen, watching the figure stay completely still in their pathetic hiding spot. your mind flashes back to jungwon in the garden, feeling deja vu all over again as you creep up to the window. was someone.. spying on you of all people?

“peeping-fucking-tom,” you whisper in rage, cracking your knuckles furiously.

once you reach the glass, you look down to take in the stranger, tilting your head dubiously at the sight of their hands covering their entire face and ears a bright red, almost as if they were.. flustered by something.

reasoning didn’t matter; all you wanted was to give the creep a fistful in their disgusting face, thoughts on display as you shove your window open and harshly rip the hat off the stranger’s head. “you spied on the wrong girl you piece of—“

your jaw drops, touches the ground even.

there he was in all his glory, yang jungwon staring up at you with his big beautiful eyes outside your window of your house with cheeks blushing a hot pink. you don’t even fully register the bizarre farmer’s clothes he’s dressed in, simply blinking down at him in utter horror.

“jungw—“ you choke, “your-your highness? what in god’s name are you doing here!?”

the prince swallows nervously, rising from the ground and taking his hat back from your grip, “keep it down,” he whispers, scanning his surroundings anxiously, “can i just come in?”

“what—“ you facepalm, moving from the window to make room for him anyway, “you know i have a door right?”

jungwon chuckles as he carefully steps inside your bedroom, brown boots meeting the hardwood floor abruptly. “you’re getting quite bold speaking to your prince like that, flower.”

you try your best to ignore the words ‘your prince’, crossing your arms stubbornly. “i suppose i have the right to when said prince was watching me change like a pervert,” you remind with a raised brow.

his smile drops, a bright shade of red immediately returning to his entire face. “i’m sorry, i didn’t see anything— i didn’t mean to, i swear! i-i was just trying to surprise you!” secretly, you’re quite amused by the situation, unbeknownst to the fact that you were the first girl to ever make yang jungwon blush in such a way.

you sigh, ushering him into your kitchen despite still being in your completely- unprepared-for-guests-attire. “well, you definitely surprised me.” on the journey through your cottage, jungwon takes his time studying every piece of decoration and trinket in fascination. it was rather adorable watching him poke every vine and lead curiously like a toddler.

“smells like a jungle in here,” he notes, fingertips pulling down a vine carefully as you walk by it.

you snort, gesturing for him to take a seat at your kitchen table. “mhm, welcome to the house of a crazy plant girl.” you couldn’t imagine how weird it must feel for the prince being in such a cramped, square room, contrary to the high ceiling dining halls the size of football fields back at his own home.

not that he commented anything on it though, almost as if he was thoroughly enjoying the new atmosphere surrounding him.

you move to turn on your kettle, grabbing two mugs and teabags along the way. out of the corner of your eye you make out the prince watching you ever so closely, a ridiculous straw hat still covering the top of his head. “so, with all due respect your majesty.. are you going to explain why you’re here? and the outfit?”

it’s almost like jungwon had forgotten himself; head whipping down to take in his rather suspicious plaid red shirt and overalls. “oh,” he says dumbly. “well you see.. my parents weren’t exactly pleased with my late night escapades, so now i’m under house— ur, uh— castle arrest.” you raise a brow as you begin pouring the boiling water. “which is why i’m in my top secret farmer disguise!” the boy announces as if it was something to be excited about.

great. not only are you stuck with a stupidly attractive prince in your home, but one that is grounded, similarly to a small child.

you sigh, placing the steaming tea in front of him. “and why have you decided to bring this trouble to me yet again?” you ask for a second time.

“because, flower,” jungwon kicks his feet eagerly under your table, eyes turning into crescents as he smiles brightly, “i have so much planned for our date today!”

you freeze, nearly knocking over your drink, “our— pardon?!”

gardenias represent joyous surprises. you know this not just because of your gardening past, but also because they were the key part in your father’s favourite story to tell — the one where your mother found out she’d be having you and gave him a bouquet of gardenias with a letter containing the wonderful news.

you weren’t too shocked hearing your mother’s choice of reveal considering your parents were also gardeners, but now, with the prince calling you ‘flower’ as well, it felt strange and a tad bit nostalgic; almost as if he’d brought a piece from your home back to you.

in his head, it remained nothing but a silly nickname, but you decided that that was okay for now.

speaking of joyous surprises, yang jungwon seemed to love giving you more of them; even in the comical form of a wooden wheelbarrow full of new gardening tools as promised, right outside your cottage.

after forcing you to get ready for the ‘date’, jungwon had brought you to the front of your house to show you his mountain of gifts, and you’d almost fainted at the sight. when you tried to decline his generous offer, the calm boy insisted that the tools he’d bought for you cost no more than a rusty penny in his back pocket for him.

“now let’s get going! i’ve never taken someone on a date before..” he ponders curiously, “but.. i figure that first we get some lunch!” he decides, giddily taking your hand in his.

at first you could barely take him seriously with such bizarre attire, but butterflies still manage to rush through you at the contact of his fingers laced through yours. you raise a curious brow, “your highness, how do you know where anything is here in the town?”

“oh, i don’t,” he admits with a grin. “but that’s what makes it fun!” you sigh, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel excited.

you’ve always been very strict and organised; never forgetting to update your schedule and plan out times and dates for everything. but in contrast, jungwon had clearly never experienced anything even close to responsibility in his life. he was bouncy, carefree, and probably clueless to all the bad things down in your town — but that’s also the reason he felt perfect for you; like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a muggy room all day.

it was a strange dynamic, yet you couldn’t help but give in to his impulsiveness each and every time with an excited, joyful change in your heart.

“hey, you two youngsters! yeah you!” an old man in a straw hat suddenly calls, but you immediately knew better; he was only trying to scam your money straight out of your pocket, similarly to most people in the town’s marketplace.

of course, the prince doesn’t know that.

“jung—“

before you could stop him, jungwon had eagerly pranced up to the man’s jewellery stand with a relaxed smile. all sorts of trinkets and variations of shining accessories hung on a wooden wall display, each attiring unique colours and gems.

“hello! these all look extremely beautiful, sir,” he compliments brightly.

the man seems equally thrilled, massaging his white beard habitually. “why, thank you, young man. they’re all made of completely authentic gems and rare crystals.” he suddenly lifts up a blue necklace, pushing it closer to the two of you. with closer examination, you quickly notice how fake and bland the ‘crystals’ look, despite the high price and rich description. “i’m sure this one would look splendid on your girlfriend.”

you aren’t sure whether your or jungwon’s eyes widened more, but it was clearly for different reasons as the boy digs into his pocket, pulling out a handful of gold coins and smacking them onto the table.

you gasp. “jungwon no-“

“then of course i’ll take it!”

“wonderful!” he beams. before any second thoughts could be processed, the man swiped the coins into a small box, smiling with a hint of malice as jungwon happily took the necklace while bowing in thanks. “are you interested in anything else? i also think these earrings—“

“no,” you harshly cut in, grabbing jungwon’s hand and stomping off like a mad woman.

he shoves the necklace into his overalls with his free hand, looking down at you worriedly. “my flower, is everything okay?”

you nearly melt into a puddle at the prince’s pure tone, and it only increases your anger at how others took advantage of his sweetness.

“i’m fine,” you huff, eyes still scanning the marketplace for any other threats. “but your majesty, you need—“

“jungwon,” he corrects.

you pause, looking up at him cluelessly. “what?”

jungwon meets your gaze from under his hat, sparkling with eased confidence. “you’ve already called me by my name twice today, and both times it sounded so much prettier from your lips.” all frustration practically vanishes from your body; much too busy gaping like a fish and blushing further as a satisfied smirk reaches the boy’s lips. he keeps walking as if nothing happened, urging you to follow. “what? it’s only the truth.”

after a couple minutes of trying to recover by dragging jungwon through more traders trying to offer deals (scams), a few creepy ladies insisting on reading your future, and one old man offering to perform a song on his bongo drums for the mere price of two gold pieces (jungwon absolutely refused to let that offer go, which led to a wasted ten minutes of sitting on the dirt in agony while the boy clapped along to the man’s song), you’d finally reached a small restaurant that you both deemed safe to dine in.

as you both walk in, you hold the prince’s hand tighter while of course still studying your surroundings for danger. luckily, jungwon doesn’t seem to notice your stressed state, or else he’d definitely scold you for not relaxing and enjoying his date to the fullest.

the young woman at the front desk smiles robotically with a bow, silver name tag reading ‘yeji’ against her suit pocket. “welcome! table for two?”

“yes, please.” you notice how her eyes narrow in on jungwon with an unreadable gaze, and you barely hold in the urge to walk right back out at the uneasy feeling it brings you. the prince in question is off in his own world as usual though; taking in the appearance of his first ever restaurant with shimmering pupils.

“right this way. you may take off your hat by the way, sir,” she furtively adds in.

jungwon’s eyes widen. “oh, i guess i could-“

before his fingers could even graze the straw material, you’d already swivelled on your heel, ripping his hand back down to his side. “he’s fine, thanks,” you grit out, trying to ignore how the woman smirks mysteriously as you take a seat across from each other.

the second she leaves, you send your date a harsh glare. “jungwon, you know you can’t take that hat off! you almost revealed your identity to the whole town,” you whisper-yell.

he pouts. “i’m sorry! i just.. i felt so.. normal these past hours,” he admits, and your eyes instantly soften.

“what do you mean?”

for perhaps the first time since you’d met him, you catch a glimpse of insecurity in jungwon’s expression as he looks off to the side. “well it’s just.. i’ve never been to a restaurant or a marketplace like everyone else. and this is kinda embarrassing to admit.. but despite being a prince or whatever, i barely have any friends,” he confesses. “i’m always locked up in that castle like a prisoner and it’s so unfair that i’ve been missing out on all the fun stuff down here!”

you feel your chest ache as you reach over the table to grab the prince’s hand, rubbing his knuckles sympathetically. “i understand that. there must be some fun things to do up there though, right?”

jungwon pauses to think, cat like eyes staring down at your intertwined hands softly. “yeah.. i like when our chef makes me mystery drinks and i have to guess what’s in it. and a lot of the times we have this princess over ‘cause my mom likes her family, and she keeps me company i guess.”

a princess..?

your expression nearly falters, jealousy and insecurity of your own brewing its way to your stomach which surprises even yourself. you’re never usually one to be envious of anyone or anything — but you realise quickly that this is the effect your prince has on you.

“i- that.. that’s good!” you try your best to sound cheerful, but he clearly sees through it by the giggle that leaves his lips.

“aww, is my pretty girl jealous?” his words have a blush rising to your cheeks, and it only deepens as jungwon lowers his plush lips to your hand, pressing a kiss against the skin with squinted cat eyes and a teasing smirk. “there’s no need for that.”

his duality never failed to bring you whiplash. “i—“

“here you go!” you flinch slightly when the waitress from before seemingly poofs out of thin air and offers a glass of ice water to both of you, her chestnut bangs hiding her piercing, fox-like stare.

you both give her thanks just as she clears her throat, eyes narrowing down on jungwon once again. “pardon of me to be asking, but what farm do you work on, sir? i swear i recognise you from somewhere,” yeji questions dubiously. the woman seems innocent to the eye, but every minute you endure with her, the more wary you begin to feel.

jungwon looks at you for help, which you quickly offer. “just.. just the one down the path and to the right,” you spit mindlessly, “we’re coworkers and— and we..“

“—on lunch break!” jungwon blurts. “we’re on.. yeah, uh—“

“yeah, lunch break,” you finish with the brightest, most convincing smile musterable.

she blinks, “i see. well then, i’ll be back to take your orders in just a moment.”

as the waitress departs back around the corner, you release a ginormous breath you didn’t even know you were holding. jungwon swallows with equal signs of relief, biting his lip apprehensively.

“flower.. i don’t know why, but i’m starting to feel kinda uneasy being in here,” he mutters, barely above a whisper. just as he speaks, you watch closely as yeji arrives at a table to cater two middle-aged men, both smoking and playing some kind of gambling game judging by the piles of poker chips scattered around them. she bends down and pushes her silky hair back, whispering something into the taller man’s ear skeptically.

then, both men eerily turn and stare straight at you.

“jungwon, look at me,” you immediately snap, doing your best to remain completely normal looking despite now the frantic beating of your heart. for once, the prince doesn’t look at ease nor relaxed like he usually would in bad situations; even jungwon was scared, you note in horror. “they might be onto us, we need to get out of here now.”

he swallows, taking quick, frightened breaths. “but how?”

“just— are you good at running?”

“uh.. i guess so,” the boy ponders. “i play soccer in the garden sometimes.”

if it were any other situation, you’d definitely be freaking out at the thought of jungwon recklessly kicking a ball around your lovely second home. “okay, on the count of three, we’re booking it.”

with a timid nod, jungwon reaches over the counter to hold your hand again.

you take a deep breath, glancing at the two men who are back to gambling and yeji who's busy with another table. “3.. 2..” jungwon sits up in preparation, adjusting his hat and overalls promptly. “1.. go!” you say it all in a loud whisper, heartbeat practically in your throat as you both catapult from your booth and race towards the exit with overflowing adrenaline.

perhaps it was a ruthless plan, but what else could you do in such a short time?

jungwon is surprisingly fast, easily keeping up with your pace as you yank open the restaurant door. in the background, your stomach drops as yeji hollers something about ‘the prince escaping’ before two pairs of heavy boots immediately begin stomping behind you.

“shit, they’re coming!” you hiss in despair. was this how jungwon felt when you chased him down in the garden? because now you understand how horrific it feels to be the one getting hunted; breath hitching, fingers trembling, heart continuously accelerating while you desperately search for any kind of distraction or escape route.

blindly, you turn right and head down the alleyway next to the restaurant while jungwon looks back to see the men asking a passerby where you’d run off to. they turn to your direction moments later, one pulling out a pocket knife while charging into a sprint.

“y/n, they have a knife!” he alerts from behind.

well, fuck.

you knew they wouldn’t hurt jungwon (unless they wanted to get executed in front of the whole town by his parents), but you were an easy target; all they’d have to say is that you were the one keeping the poor prince in captivity all along, and your death would be something worth earning a reward for.

up ahead was another problem. a decently tall, chain linked fence blocked off the rest of the alleyway along with a large green garbage box next to it. you glance at jungwon and he hastily nods in return, clearly having the same idea as you.

once you reach the garbage box, you swing your body onto it before pursuing your climb up the fence. just as you pull yourself over the top and to the other side, a strangled yelp is heard behind you.

you look down in alarm to see jungwon, half way up the fence, with one of the men holding his ankle in a fight to pull him back down. the bigger man with the knife was steadily getting closer, encouraging you to reach down and grab the prince’s hand and pull him up yourself.

“hurry the hell up!” the man furiously calls to his slower partner. it was a game of tug of war with jungwon in the middle, and you suspect that the only reason you’re winning is because of how hard the boy shakes his ankle in an attempt to kick the man in the face.

taking a deep breath, you furrow your brows and pull as hard as your body allows you to from the top of a decently high fence. it’s just like pulling out a plant from the soil, you’ve done it a billion times before, y/n.

at that moment, jungwon whimpers in pain at the man’s brutal clasp on his ankle combined with the strain in his arm that you’re tugging relentlessly. it’s almost a cue that sets you off; the sound of the poor prince you care so deeply for being hurt sending strength and anger through your veins, enough to emit another harsh yank and scream from your body.

finally, the man loses his grip. “c’mon, c’mon!” you shriek, helping jungwon as he scrambles up the fence and parkours over just as the man jumps in an attempt to catch him. you both carefully leap to the ground and dash off once more, even if your body felt like collapsing at any moment.

in the distance, a large forest grew the faster you ran towards it. though he’s out of breath, jungwon speaks up hastily at the sight. “flower, i know the perfect place to rest.”

the sound of rushing, powerful water was getting louder the deeper you followed jungwon off the main path and into the woods. why you were trusting him at this point of your date? you had no idea, but you blame the beautiful assortments of plants and wildlife surrounding you for being such a nice distraction.

at last, jungwon stops at two specifically large, graceful trees that leave no space to see in between, as if they were the hidden entrance to some kind of mythical fairy world. “here we are,” he declares while smiling down at you. you watch in awe as he finally pulls off his straw hat, taking in the fluffy black hair you continuously felt the urge to run your nails through.

with a deep breath, jungwon pulls the two trees apart and allows you to duck under his arm. when you look back up, your heart nearly stops.

it has to be the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

seemingly straight out of narnia or neverland, a grassy flatland of blooming flowers revelled below droopy vines falling from ginormous trees. some plants held little berries or blossoms upon their leaves, and it was probably why so many bunnies and other critters inhabited burrows close by. and of course, the most brilliant part of it all was the crashing waterfall that bubbled white at the bottom, embellished with lily pads that occasionally held pink lotuses on top.

you couldn’t understand how it wasn’t a tourist spot, but you supposed how difficult it is to find was a factor, and that anyone who managed to do so would prefer to keep it as their personal secret.

a bigger hand confidently grabbing onto yours brings you out of your daydream. “you.. you do like it, right?” the raven haired boy asks incredulously.

“like it? won, this is.. amazing! i’m speechless,” you ramble, speed-walking over to a bush of small red flowers obliviously while jungwon grins at his new nickname. “just look at these naturally growing cardinals! and.. and the water lilies!”

the prince almost forgot he was out with a gardener. he giggles in adoration as you continue dragging him around the small fairyland, big eyes examining each plant thoughtfully. it was even more adorable how every time, you’d tell him a bit about the flower and ask what he thought about it.

“—and this one’s a blue flag water iris! do you like it?” you beam.

jungwon has never seen you act so childish and free before, and it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. “yeah, this one’s really pretty,” he agrees. “do you.. have a favourite flower?”

it wasn’t because he had plans to make you a humongous bouquet in the future, of course not.

you look up from your bent over position to gasp. “obviously not, that’d be like having a favourite child!”

he smirks, maintaining eye contact as you rise to your full height. “fair enough. still, it’s amazing how you just.. look at them and know what kind of plant it is.”

“that’s what happens when you have gardening parents i suppose,” you shrug.

as jungwon takes in the new information about your family with excited eyes, you both take a seat on the grassy terrain by the waterfall. it soons changes to lying down on your sides, facing each other with soft laughter as you tell him funny gardening stories you’d experienced with your dad.

suddenly, he gasps comically. “i almost forgot!” while still lying down, the male digs into his overalls pocket, pulling out the cheap blue necklace from the marketplace with a proud expression. he gestures for you to sit up with him. “turn around pretty, i’ll put it on for you.”

you weigh the pros and cons of telling jungwon the necklace was fake, coming to the eventual conclusion that he probably wouldn’t care either way. if he could fall for you over a rich princess, things like status and one’s money clearly had no detrimental effect on him.

with your front now turned to the waterfall, the prince ever so gently reaches around your neck and locks the blue necklace in place. you mindlessly turn back around, gasping when you find his handsome face despicably close to yours.

his bangs blew left and right ever so slightly with the breeze of the waterfall, brown cat-like eyes peering down at you with nothing but love. you swallow when you glance down and see how he hesitantly licks his lips, at last reaching up to cup the soft apple of your cheek.

there was only one other incident where you’d been so close to each other. “the last time we were in this position..” you don’t even have to finish your sentence before jungwon bursts into laughter with you quickly following, reminiscing on how rudely he had pranked you.

“i said i was sorry, okay!” he defends. “you were just so cute on my lap, you were so.. so sure i was gonna..” he cuts himself off by erupting in giggles again, making you pout in disapproval of the moment being ruined so soon.

you can’t just sit around and let history repeat itself, can you?

before your confidence fades away, you pounce on the laughing boy, pressing him to the ground and lowering down to smash your lips on his. jungwon’s eyes widen and he grunts in shock, hastily recovering as he begins gently kissing you back and lifting his hands to your waist.

his lips feel unexplainably addicting, plush and pink as they mesh with yours, breathing in sync as you bring a hand to finally tangle your fingers through the shining roots of his hair.

suddenly, you’re being flipped over to the grass with such benignity yet strength altogether. jungwon hovers over you with a pleased smile at his new power, mischievously staring at you below him with palms near your head.

just when you raise a brow and start to question his motives, he’s pecking your lips quickly to shut you up. “flower?” he calls out, barely above a whisper.

the whole time his smile never falters, and it makes a grin of your own blossom across your face. “yes, my prince?”

his head tilts to the side. “i really like you.”

your chest pangs with happiness, and you feel the pounding urge to just sit up and pull him into a carefree embrace at the confession. there was a hint of stress still resting in the back of your mind, but you make sure to not think about the troublesome things; what this meant for the future, or what other people would say if they found out. instead, you reciprocate his words with equal amounts of affection and honesty.

“i really like you too, won.”

jungwon exhales in relief, flopping back down on the grass next to you. “it was this amazing date that convinced you to give me a chance, right?” he wiggles his brows sarcastically, earning a snort in response.

“yeah, right,” you mock. “getting chased down and having to help your slow ass over that fence really sealed the deal for me.”

the prince gasps, turning to send you a glare as your chest begins shaking with teasing laughter. “hey! that was your plan to run out of there. maybe if we stayed quiet instead of stampeding through the whole restaurant they wouldn’t have noticed!” he banters sassily.

instead of firing a retort back like you’d plan to, you pause, smile dropping. “speaking of those guys.. won’t they like- tell your parents or something?”

of course, jungwon only simpers cockily, unaffected by your worries as usual. “pretty, did you forget your boyfriend’s a prince? nothing a little money in return for silence can’t solve.” you don’t know which part of his sentence stuns you more, in fact, him using the term ‘your boyfriend’ felt a bit too good to be true — not that you were going to question it. he only snickers at your silence, reaching over to rub your cheek with his thumb in adoration. “i should start a tally on how many times i can make you speechless in a day. you make it much too easy for me.”

why did he have to be like this?

you sheepishly look away, facing the sky that turned an elegant orange as your manic day came to an end. “shut- shut up. we should be heading back anyway,” you decide, reluctantly pushing yourself up from the soft terrain. “i have to be up and working in the garden by dawn tomorrow, too.”

“really!?” he beams, “so i can come see you, right?” jungwon follows your lead and stands up, brushing down his sleeves and overalls but never taking his eyes off of you.

“if your parents haven’t killed you by then, sure.”

he scoffs, reaching a hand out to you. “don’t worry, flower, i’ve got it all under control. now c’mon, i already have so many ideas planned for our second date!”

it’s difficult to know if you’re more excited or scared, but you take his hand anyway with not a hint of hesitation. at this moment, you also decide on having a new addition to the palace garden dedicated to jungwon, full of camellias of course.

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating <3

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

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[professional-yapper]

Proximity Epilogue

Neteyam x Olangi! Reader

Warnings: none, it is not confirmed whether the reader or Neteyam was pregnant for the sake of gender neutrality x

"Jëytru, come away from there," you called patiently to your oldest son, who was now a long-limbed 11-year-old and more like his uncle Lo'ak than you would've liked.

Jëytru pouted, continuing to swing from the decidedly very thin vines. "No, Sempu said I could!"

You raised your eyes skyward, then gave him a hard look. "And what am I saying now, Jëy?"

Your son paused, considering, then stuck his bottom lip out even further and hopped down, bounding over to you in search of alternate entertainment. He found it with the baby in your lap.

"Iiwìr," he cooed, leaning over you to nudge at his little brother's round cheeks as the baby slept peacefully, having been a much better sleeper than any of his older siblings, much to your relief.

You were content to let Jëytru touch Iiwìr gently. He meant no harm in it, and it wasn't like Iiwìr was waking any time soon.

Instead, you devoted yourself to your carving. A pair of new toys for the twins, since they'd broken some of theirs playing some kind of war game. No doubt imitating what Lo'ak and Neteyam told them of the raids on the sky demon bases.

Not that there was a raid today. No. It was serene, a bubbling river running by the hut, birds singing in the trees, a warm wind ripe with the smell of spring moving through the area.

Neteyam had taken the twins out for a little daddy-daughter time. He'd inherited his father's blatant girl-dad attitude, as much as he tried to deny it, and doted on 8-year-old Obia and Erel.

Not that you minded. You were more than happy to have your sons all to yourself. Speaking of sons...

Jëytru had wandered off to perch on the riverside, and Iiwìr still slept in your lap, blissfully unaware of the carving knife hovering in the air above his head as you searched the clearing.

"Okoro! Kalzi!" you called finally, unable to locate the final members of your little horde. Well, not so little. Your brood was the envy of the tribe, your four sons and two daughters Omaticaya-tall and Olangi-strong, and everything wonderful in between.

And yes, you did take pleasure in watching Lo'ak mock-gag every time he was reminded of the fact that you were sleeping with his older brother. As if he and his own mate, the one from the Tayrangi clan, weren't just as bad.

The bushes rustled once, twice, and Okoro, 9, and Kalzi, 5, came out, tripping over each other in their eagerness to answer your call. "We were just playing over there," Okoro said breathlessly, turning to point into the undergrowth. "In the dirt."

You surveyed your sons, smeared in dirt and dusty blue skin- Kalzi, Okoro and the twins bore your skin but none of your physical features, while iiwìr and Jëytru were the opposite- littered with minor cuts and scraps. All evidence of having fun. "I can tell," you replied finally, voice warm with amusement.

Jëytru glanced at his brothers, then laughed at their dishevelled state. Okoro looked down at himself and laughed too. Kalzi laughed, but it was likely he didn't understand what was funny and only wanted to imitate his older brothers. He was only 5, after all, and you remembered your older brothers had seemed very wise and impressive at that age.

How wrong you had been.

Then came the sound of distant voices. No doubt your mate and the girls returning from their morning romp.

"Sempu!" Kalzi cried and took off in that direction as fast as his fat little legs could take him.

Okoro followed with a whoop, and Jëytru, trying to seem like he didn't care much, brought up the rear at a more lackadaisical pace.

You sighed, setting down the half-formed carvings and your knife. Standing slowly, you made sure Iiwìr was secured in his sling before going to greet the rest of your family.

Neteyam was being swarmed by the children when you caught up, Jëytru having forgotten his airs of superiority and whatnot and was jumping around vying for his father's attention with the rest of them.

Neteyam gave you a wry look, pleading for assistance with his eyes. "How did we get so many?" he asked wonderingly.

You looked at him pointedly, resisting the urge to let your lips curve into a knowing smile. "I can't exactly answer that in front of the children, now, can I?"

Neteyam laughed and freed himself from the swarm, coming forward to kiss you, tall, broad frame blocking out the sun briefly as he pushed your hair back from your face to better access your lips. "There you are," he murmured contentedly, eyes crinkling at the corners before you closed your eyes and took him in as best you could before the kids' gagging and carrying on got the better of you both.

"The boys missed you," you hummed, curling into Neteyam's side later, back home in the sunny warmth of your hut. "You must take them out sometime."

"I don't know if I could handle them as well as you, paskalin," Neteyam replied, watching the children mess around together through the gap in the curtain over the entrance to your room.

You chuckled. "Flatterer. But you will have to. I mean it."

"I know, I know, I'm just like my dad," Neteyam groaned, letting his head drop against yours. "I can't be blamed for it like he can, though. Our sons are so attached to you it's almost sickening."

"Like you can talk," you scoffed, but there wasn't much effort in it. Rolling over onto your side, you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, which always seemed to be in time with yours nowadays.

There was a brief moment of sweet, comfortable silence before he spoke again. "6 kids," he murmured.

"We could really piss everyone off and go for seven," you muttered against his pec.

Neteyam's chest rumbled with laughter. "You're crazy. Are all Olangi this insatiable?"

"I wouldn't know," you snorted. "I haven't slept with any of them lately," you added just to get a rise out of him.

"Oh, you," Neteyam said lowly, shifting to hover over you, golden eyes gleaming.

"Oh, me," you replied smilingly, folding your hands over your chest comfortably as you looked up at him, shifting onto your back.

He lingered for a moment, then pressed a brief, hungry kiss to your mouth before flopping back down beside you.

Chuckling, you cuddled back into his side and let out a deep sigh.

All was right with the world now. Your mate next to you, your children playing out in the main room, and the beautiful day wrapped around the village.

Then Neteyam's mouth bumped against your ear, breath hot on your skin.

"Behave or it'll be 8."

And so we reach the end of my first multi chapter fic! Much love to everyone who liked, reblogged and just generally supported this fic, you are all appreciated! I'm very proud of myself 😭🙏

Taglist: @luvv4j4ybe11 @ikeyniofthetayrangi @rivatar @lunamochii @mochamochimoch1015 @dutifullyannoyingfox @oakbuggy @abcm18339 @atokirina-tsuki

Does actually sicken me to have to finish this so y'all may see more at some point tbh

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Oh nooooo somebody stole my Aidlyn/Ashden headcanons so now I have to write more ... ✨️

(SORRY IM SPAMMING THE TAG 😭😭😭)

Some of these are based on my dad because he has bpd and he really reminds me of Aiden.

-His sense of humor is so broken like. Probably makes "that's what she said" and "your mom" jokes. Ash thinks he is the unfunniest person alive 🤡 and she STILL laughs at him (but never when he's trying to be funny). I think he'd be on Vine a lot lmao. He would laugh at that video of the bread slice falling over no cap.

-Aiden Clark, Professional Doomscroller. Maybe an itty bitty bit addicted to social media cuz "omg easy dopamine hit" even if he doesn't post a lot. Would prolly be chronically on TikTok if he was a teen today 🤡 Ash WILL steal his phone and hide it so they can "do something productive" (which alternates between her trying to teach him basic life skills to him falling out of a tree because they went outside for five minutes)

-her parents also gave him a truly awful shovel talk. He came out of it, kneeled in front of her, and said if he broke her heart to kill him before her parents did 💖 Tyler and him bond about their "scary in laws", although he has a better relationship with Mike and Emma than Tyler does with Mary and James 🤡

-convinced her to go to prom because "free food" and managed to wrangle out a slow-dance from her. He already likes dancing, SHE likes dancing...he wants to dance together ^_^

-She really likes his normal smile, when he's not forcing it. He takes good care of his teeth, so he's got a real bright smile :)

-Aiden tried to teach her how to skateboard a few times. She can...stand on it without falling off and roll around, but no tricks lol. Ash still thinks it was just an excuse for him to grab her hands or waist while she was balancing.

-Some problems in the relationship: they are not very good at communicating how they feel, so there's a lot of misunderstandings between them unless the gang intervenes haha ":D Sometimes Ash feels very suffocated by him and she really dislikes his apathy towards himself, and Aiden sometimes feels like Ash doesn't care about him nearly as much as he cares about her.

-his depressive episodes alternate between "I'm just gonna lie here and hope I die" to "actively trying to self destruct", sometimes he might go on a binge (overdosing on his meds, and when he's older he might sometimes drink too much or go on really dangerous joy rides, he's an awful driver), they really freak Ash out :( Recovery is a very long road with no end destination. She's trying to get better at reassuring him and he's trying to...just get better.

-both of them suck at remembering their anniversary 🤡 Aiden is a littleeeee bit better

-They have a knife collection they share ❤️

-he has her as "love of my life 💖✨️😍" on his phone contacts and has a special ringtone for her and everything. Absolutely not embarrassed about it, Ash...definitely is 💀 (she has him as "Aiden")

-sends her really bad poetry he wrote for her because writing his feelings down by himself is easier than saying it in the moment. Ash keeps all of them in a shoebox in her closet.

-she's not really good with touching and stuff but she feels better touching him, like a good stim. Really likes holding his face (no eye contact). Also enjoys him holding her hand.

-Secretly a little insecure about how she looks. She has never really thought about it before because she never cared about it, but now, in a relationship, she's kinda self conscious about him perceiving (read: constantly staring) her. She's very short and thin (even with muscles from ballet and training) and feels like a "late bloomer." Aiden thinks she's the closest thing to physical perfection that exists and will tell her this constantly ^_^

-She actually likes how he smells (grâce à: his really expensive soap lmao) but she would die before telling him lol

-The first time she kissed him her brain kinda shut off and she just squished their faces together while puffing her cheeks up. He bust out laughing and completely murdered the mood 💀 They'll figure it out...eventually

[creepyyanderegirl]

Yandere Michael Myers Alphabet

A=Affection (How do they show their love for you)

Gripping,holding,hair playing, caressing,holding hands,knife to your throat

B=Bound (How much do they share with you)

He doesn't tell you much

C=Cruel (How do they punish you)

Violence, spanking,silent treatment, isolation, torturing,cutting

D=Desire (How long until they take you)

1 month

E=Even (To what level are they dominant)

Dominant

F=Future (What are their future plans for the two of you)

Get married

G=Gifts (What do they give you)

Daggers

H=Hell (Worst experience with them)

Jealous moments,angry moments,his killings,his punishments

I=Insane (How insane did they get because of you)

He's already insane. 10/10

J=Jealous (How easily do they get jealous)

Easily. Kills anyone who even looks at you.

K=Killing (How do they handle killing)

Very brutal, painful and ruthless

L=Language (What is their love language)

Gifts and quality time

M=Manipulation (What could you do to get your way)

Nothing

N=No (To what strength would they go for you)

He'd do anything for you

O=Obsessed (How obsessed are they with you)

9/10

P=Pet names (What do they call you)

Doll,pet,plaything,good girl,kitten,mine,baby girl,star,bunny,dove,my love

Q=Quit (How would they act if you died)

He'd find another girl and pretend their you

R=Runaway (What are your chances to get away)

No chance

S=Stalking (How good are they at stalking you)

10/10

T=Type (What type of yandere are they)

Delusional, manipulative,isolating, possessive,stalker, overprotective, obsessive

U=Unique (Different from other yanderes)

He doesn't talk much

V=Vine (How would they feel if you fought back)

Fights you back

W=Will (Would they do anything against their loves will)

Ties you up,force feeds you, holds you,spends time with you

X=Xray (How much do they keep hidden from you)

Quite a lot

Y=Yearning (How much do they want you)

1/10

Z=Zzz (How do you two fall asleep together)

Holding you in his arms