#now I practically breathe tog

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

When new hyperfixational content appears on your dash and you scroll by it so fast because it’s like no, no, sorry, I’m sure I’d love you, but I already have 2 hyperfixations, 3 dormant ones always ready to be reignited, a multifandom tumblr, and a full time job. I can’t fit you in my schedule.

[siennadoodles]

Gojo X Aria X Geto 🩵🤍💜 ~Part-2

Title: You love her too! Don’t you?

Theme: A passionate love story where both Gojo & Geto fall hopelessly in love with Aria.

On a quiet night atop a city-rooftop, Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto stood side by side, the Tokyo lights twinkling below them. A cool breeze ruffled their hair as they reflected on the day’s events. Neither had expected their casual conversation to drift toward romance, but tonight, the stars and the city were conspiring. Gojo took a deep breath, eyes shining.

Gojo: “You know, Geto, I still can’t get over what happened today. So, I was grabbing coffee on my day off, right? And out of nowhere some thief tries to snatch this girl’s bouquet of flowers. Of course, I had to jump in.”

He flashed a grin, stretching his long legs out on the ledge. Geto raised an eyebrow, leaning on the railing beside him with a lazy smile.

Geto: “Let me guess: you swooped in like a guardian angel and saved the day?”

Gojo laughed, flicking an imaginary tie. Gojo: “Something like that. I mean, it was pretty heroic of me. There I am, holding a bunch of rescued roses, and I look up to see this girl–” He made a swooning gesture. “Her smile was like sunshine after a rainstorm. I swear, I almost offered to walk her home.”

Geto’s lips quirked up. He had quietly been thinking about his own strange happenstance from earlier.

Geto: “That’s funny… I had a weird moment today too. After a mission I ended up wandering by a flower shop. The shop’s windows were lit, and inside, there was this woman carefully arranging flowers. She was humming softly, and the whole scene was peaceful. Not something I expected after clearing out curses all day.”

Gojo sat up, his eyes widening. Gojo: “No way… Are you talking about the florist by the old station? I saved her flowers from that thief!”

Geto’s surprised smile turned thoughtful. Geto: “Aria?”

Gojo: “Yeah. Her name’s Aria. That’s her name.”

A beat of silence passed as the realization dawned on them. Gojo and Geto exchanged a look, eyebrows raising almost identically.

Geto: “So… we’re talking about the same girl here.”

Gojo: “Same girl,” he agreed with a chuckle, nudging Geto’s shoulder playfully. “Small world, huh?”

They both started grinning like goofballs at the cosmic coincidence. Gojo’s tone turned a little sheepish. Gojo: “Listen, man… I— I kind of liked her the moment I saw her smile. But apparently, I’m not the only one. You saw her too?”

Geto shrugged, his calm expression hiding a gentle blush. Geto: “I guess I did. She’s… nice, isn’t she? I don’t usually notice people like that, but Aria caught my eye.”

Gojo (feigning offense): “Ah, so now you’re competing, Suguru?”

Geto: “Well, do I look like someone who backs down from a friendly competition?”

The two burst into laughter. The night sky felt a little warmer.

Gojo: “You know, we might both be a bit smitten.”

Geto (smirking): “A bit? Come on, I saw you staring like you were in a coma.”

Gojo (waving it off): “Whatever. I say we do something about it. Double date style.”

Geto: “Double date? Heh, with both of us vying for her attention? That sounds dangerously fun.”

Gojo grinned slyly and held out a finger to shake on it. Gojo: “Tomorrow morning. We go to her flower shop together. You and me. And we see what happens.”

Geto took Gojo’s hand and gave it a firm shake. Geto: “Deal. Loser buys dessert after.”

Gojo laughed. Gojo: “You’re on. But you know, I was born for this. She’s going to be charmed off her feet.”

Geto winked. Geto: “My eloquence knows no bounds. She’ll be practically asking me out by the end.”

They parted ways for the night with arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. The stars watched over them as they already imagined tomorrow’s antics.

⸻

What actually happened at the shop that day (acc to Part-1)

Morning sunlight filtered through the glass door of Aria’s cozy flower shop. Inside, the air was sweet with roses and fresh earth. Gojo and Geto pushed open the door together, flowers chiming a little welcome. Aria, the florist, looked up from a half-finished bouquet and almost dropped her ribbon in surprise when she saw them. Her dark hair was pulled back with a few loose strands framing her face, and her warm brown eyes lit up with recognition.

Aria: “Good morning, Gojo-sensei, Suguru-kun! Back for more flowers?”

Gojo stepped forward with a dramatic bow, eyes sparkling. Gojo: “Ah, Aria-chan! Good morning! Yes, indeed. We couldn’t stay away after our last visit. Your flowers are almost as beautiful as you are.”

Geto rolled his eyes playfully. Geto: “I think he’s practicing lines. Don’t encourage him too much.”

Aria blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Aria: “Oh! Heh, you two are impossible. What brings you here today?”

Gojo waved a hand grandly. Gojo: “We’re on a mission—to find the perfect bouquet for someone very special. And we need your expert guidance.”

Geto (grinning): “We’re actually kind of competing. But no pressure, right?”

Aria giggled, walking over to the flower racks. She was patient and kind, taking care to select blooms as the two men offered suggestions.

Gojo: “I think she’d love the bright sunflowers. They remind me of her smile. Maybe toss in some red roses too, for passion!”

He gave Geto an exaggerated wink.

Geto: “Hmm, sunflowers are great, but how about white lilies? They’re elegant, just like she is. Maybe a few daisies for sweetness.”

Gojo reached for a sunflower, swirling it between his fingers. Gojo: “Daisies are okay but not as bold as I am. How about some blue irises to stand out?”

Geto (raising an eyebrow): “Blue irises? Are we decorating a bouquet or painting a portrait here?”

Gojo stuck out his tongue. Gojo: “Sarcasm is just your secret weapon, isn’t it?”

Aria watched them banter with a fond smile. She turned back to her flowers. Aria: “I think I have the perfect idea. Let’s do a mixed bouquet: vibrant sunflowers and roses from Gojo, elegant lilies from Geto, and a few cheerful daisies to tie them together.”

Geto and Gojo exchanged a surprised glance, then both turned back to Aria with wide smiles.

Gojo: “Mixed bouquet genius! Aria, you’re a flower wizard!”

Geto: “Yes, thank you. This is even better than what we imagined.”

Aria gently wove the stems together, wrapping the bouquet in pale yellow ribbon. Gojo stood unusually still for once, admiring the bouquet as if it were a masterpiece. Geto watched Aria’s quick hands at work.

Aria: “All done! This should make a great gift.”

Geto scooped up the bouquet carefully. Geto: “It’s perfect. You did great, Aria.”

Gojo (winking at Aria): “She certainly did. And you two make quite a team.”

Aria blushed again, handing the bouquet to Geto. Aria: “Thank you, both of you. Be sure to come by anytime.”

Gojo and Geto each paid with a friendly wave.

Aria: “Bye-bye!”

As the door closed behind them with a tiny chime, sunlight spilled onto Gojo and Geto on the sidewalk. The mixed bouquet, a riot of yellow, red, white and blue, was nestled under their arms.

Geto: “Alright, we got the flowers. Who’s going to work up the nerve to ask her out first?”

He nudged Gojo with an elbow, already smirking.

Gojo: “Obviously I will. Look how nice she smiled at me.”

Geto: “Oh really? She smiled at me when I said lilies are like her–”

Gojo: “–She said I had sun-kissed charm. Hand on heart, bro.”

Geto: “Your scarf is sun-kissed, maybe.”

Gojo: “At least I have a nice scarf to my name. You were wearing that same old hat she gave you last week!”

Geto pretended to adjust his nonexistent hat. Geto: “This hat is vintage, thank you very much.”

They both laughed, stepping away from the shop’s threshold. The afternoon air was warm, and Gojo tossed a sunflower from the bouquet into the air and caught it.

Geto: “Between your stunning style and my irresistible smooth talk, who could blame her? Face it, Gojo, you’re gonna have to step up.”

Gojo (dramatically clutching his chest): “Ouch. My wounded pride bleeds. But fine. Let’s have a formal contest. Next week. Whoever plans the best date for her wins.”

Geto grabbed the bouquet and pretended to salute. Geto: “Deal. I already have a few ideas brewing.”

Gojo: “I mean, polyam or not, someone’s got to make the move first.”

Geto snorted. Geto: “She’s not going to date both of us at once, calm down.”

Gojo: “Hey, now. A guy can hope!”

They strolled down the street shoulder to shoulder, still ribbing each other and joking. The mixed bouquet bobbed between them, a symbol of their friendly rivalry.

Gojo: “May the best man win.”

Geto: “Oh, he will. He definitely will.”

Their laughter echoed down the quiet street as the afternoon sun set behind them, warm and triumphant.

What do you think happens next?

Image Credits: harshxryu/ Pinterest <3

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

“100 Dage” (Angst/Fluff/Slightly Suggestive?)

1987!Donatello x reader

A/N: I still remember when this song came out, holy shit. Absolute Danish pop in a nutshell. But it has a story, and I like it, so here ya go💜

Song: “100 Dage” by Thomas Helmig feat Medina.

Danish song with translation provided. “100 Dage” means “100 Days”.

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Break up, implied smut, but nothing too descriptive.

Jeg så dig nede i gaden i går / Mit hjerte knækkede midt over / Lige siden vi gik fra hinanden / Har jeg grædt og fortrudt som én i fanden.

(I saw you on the street yesterday / My heart broke in the middle / Ever since we went from each other / Have I cried and regretted like someone in hell).

Donnie had not expected to see you yesterday evening. He had expected that day to be another regular evening, making his way through the dark streets of New York City with his brothers, on their way to yet another mission that called for their attention.

It was becoming almost an escape for Donnie, forcing him not to think about what had been hurting him so much. And finally, for once, he felt like he was making progress. He could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, believing that yes, he would make it through this. He hadn’t been crying for a few weeks now, rolling in his own regret. He was for once, actually doing a little bit better.

But as Donnie clenched his bow staff and followed his brothers through the shadows, all of that progress shattered at a moment's notice. His brothers could almost hear his heart break like a shattering peace of glass, splattering across the street. Because there you were, crossing the street and minding your own business, heading home from lord knows what.

Donnie could feel the lump in his throat growing as he saw you walking, wondering - fearing - if you saw you. Yet he didn’t move, as if he wanted you to notice him. As if even after all his progress, he still wanted you to look for him. And then you looked up, stopping dead in your tracks as your eyes met his.

Og jeg har været ensom / Gået rundt og ladet som om / Kalenderen ville gøre mig / Hel igen.

(And I have been lonely / Walking around and acting like / The calendar would make me / Whole again).

You did not expect to see Donnie that evening. You too had finally made progress, finally feeling like you could go out without looking for him, after practically staring at the calendar for days, wondering when time would finally make you feel better. But whatever illusion of time and healing you had created, was now gone. Thrown straight out the window, breaking against the street, when you saw the eyes you had been looking so lovingly into so many times before.

You were shaking, as if your body was hollow, threatening to cave in on itself. You felt tears press against the back of your eyes, with all of the good feelings and memories you and Donnie once had, rolling over you like an ocean wave. Feelings and memories you thought you were finally free from, but here they were, all coming back to you. And all it took was to see Donnie on the street.

You don’t know how long you and Donnie stood and stared at each other, but it was long enough for his brothers to get impatient, grabbing a hold of the top lip of his shell, before pulling him with them into the dark. And you stood back, still shaking as you watched him disappear.

Hvert et ord vi sagde / Og forrådte / Alt hvad der forsvandt / Mellem fingrene / Vinden tog det med / Alt det, men uanset hvor det blev af (åh).

(Every word we said / Had betrayed / All that disappeared / Between the fingers / The wind took it along / All that, but no matter where it went (oh)).

You went home, still shaking on the edge of tears. You didn’t even take your shoes or jacket off, but instead went directly to your couch, where you sat down, just as it felt like your knees were going to give in beneath you.

You ran your hands over your face, letting out a shaking breath, trying to steady your breath, in an attempt to keep your thoughts from Donnie. But that battle was over before you could even take up arms, with memories of you and Donnie’s small night conversations that turned into promises made during midnight. Your pinky promises when you promised each other to stay friends forever, and your later hugs and kisses, planning your future together.

You felt a tear rolling down your cheek, when you realized just how many promises to each other you and Donnie had broken, that day a 100 days ago. Surprising how something that once meant the world could just disappear. But yet again, here you were, slowly beginning to wonder if it actually ever disappeared.

Så' det tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage.. / Tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage / Tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage.. (yeah) / Nu er det tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage.

(So it is time to - time to take it back.. / Time to - time to take it back / I’ve missed you for a 100 days / Time to - time to take it back.. (yeah) / Now it’s time to - time to take back).

It didn’t take long before you found yourself pacing back and forth in your living room, with your latest revelation unable to rest within you. In less than a few hours, it had become obviously clear, that you missed Donnie. You missed having him in your life, and you missed having your arms around him and your lips against his. You missed his voice and all the ways he made you feel.

You could not lie to yourself any longer - you wanted Donnie back.

Jeg glemte helt at se dig / Du glemte helt at be 'mig / Om det du havde brug for / Som jeg bare sku' ha givet dig af mig selv.

(I totally forgot to see you / You totally forgot to ask me / About what I needed / Which I had to give from myself).

Just like you, Donnie had been a mess since he returned with his brothers to the lair. He refused to talk to the others about it, retreating to his bedroom, shutting out all those that tried to have a word of comfort with him.

Donnie dropped straight onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling absolutely lost. He had not expected to see you again, and neither had he expected that the sight of you would hit him like this. And with that came every memory back to him. Every loving look, every sweet word, and every passionate night you spend in each other’s arms. And with all the good memories, Donnie couldn’t help but remember how the two of you basically took the best thing you had, and forgot to take care of it. You started to take your love for each other for granted, and do all the things you used to, in order to keep your relationship alive. And there were many things. You both had been doing it, with neither of you being the only one to blame. You and Donnie had been busy, spending less and less time together due to your hectic schedule. It didn’t help that neither of you spoke about it, letting the other know what you were feeling or needing. Both of you tried to better your relationship on your own, forgetting to communicate. And with that, it was no surprise that your relationship slowly began to falter, with neither of your being able to fix it before it was too late.

Og gensidig kærlighed / Er hårdt slid og ærlighed / Vi glemte det og tabte / Begge to.

(And mutual love / Is hard work and honesty / We forgot and dropped / Both of them).

Donnie turned over in his bed, resting his head against the pillow. The same pillow you had laid against so many nights before, smiling and giggling as you and Donnie would whisper to each other in the night, making sure neither of his brothers would hear your secret words of love and passion.

As Donnie’s fingertips traced over the pillow, he started to wonder; if the two of you had done more - together - would you still be happy in each other’s arms? Would you still lay here in Donnie’s arms with your head resting against his pillow, right where his hand was right now?

Alle vores kys / Lige på tungen / Hver en solopgang / Der blev forsømt / Strømmen tog det med / Alt det, men uanset hvor det blev af (åh yeah).

(All of our kisses / Right on the tongue / Every sunrise / That was neglected / The stream took it along / All that, but no matter where that went (oh yeah)).

It was hard for Donnie, not to think back on all the things you used to do together in his bed. How you would hide away from the others and cuddle for hours on end, talking about everything you had in mind and in your hearts. The way your nights would become passionate with long kisses and lingering touches, before you would find ways to get familiar with each other and the way you would love when being physical.

The next day you and Donnie would wake up, still with your legs and arms around each other, finding that you had been sleeping in while the rest of the lair was up and awake. But that didn’t matter to you and Donnie. Instead you would pull each other as tight as possible, enjoying the calmness of his bed for as long as possible, before your rumbling stomachs forced you to go and eat something.

Så' det tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage / Tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage.

(So it is time to - time to take it back / Time to - time to take it back / I’ve missed you for a 100 days).

And as Donnie laid there in bed, remembering all of the things you used to do together - how much you have loved each other, and how it had been eating at him, for the first 99 days after you broke up, Donnie couldn’t deny it any longer. He missed you. He had missed you ever since you broke up, and he had been missing you long before that. Donnie could not go on for a day more without you. A 100 days was enough, and he wouldn’t make it to 101. No way. He wouldn’t. He just couldn’t.

And so, without a word, Donnie got up from his bed, and quickly rushed out of the lair before Splinter or any of his brothers could stop him. He knew exactly was he was going to do. Something he should have done long before.

100 dage er ingen tid målt op imod evighed / Men 100 dage er en evighed målt op imod - kærlighed.

(A 100 days is no time measured against eternity / But a 100 days is an eternity measured against - love).

You had finally managed to get your shoes and jacket off, but was at this point just walking around your apartment aimlessly, still not feeling whole. You felt empty, like your heart was just rolling around inside of you with every step, with nothing to support it.

It was there as you moved around your home, trying to do something, in the hopes that it would get your mind off of Donnie, that the face you hadn’t been able to get out of your head, showed up just outside your window. For a moment you thought that you had lost your mind. That your brain was in so much longing, that it had started to play tricks on you in order to cope. But then you saw the pained expression on Donnie’s face, followed by his knuckles knocking against your window, asking you to open up.

Nu er det tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage (baby) / Nu er det tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage / Tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage (baby) / Og der skal to til - to til at ta' det tilbage / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage / Tid til - tid til at tage det tilbage (hey) / Og der skal to til - to til at ta' det tilbage / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage.

(Now it’s time to - time to take it back (baby) / Now it’s time to - time to take it back / I’ve missed you for a 100 days / Time to - time to take it back (baby) / And it takes two to - two to take it back / I’ve missed you for a 100 days / Time to - time to take it back (hey) / And it takes two to - two to take it back / I’ve missed you for a 100 days).

You rushed over to the window and quickly opened it, letting the mutant crawl into your living room. You noticed how he looked exactly like you felt - like he had been plagued mentally and physically. You could almost guess what he had been thinking about, yet you did not dare to do so, fearing that it in some way would come back and hurt you. Yet you had a feeling that Donnie had been doing just as poorly as you had.

You and Donnie stood for a moment, just looking at each other, neither of you really sure what to say. But silence could only be between you for so long, before you rushed to Donnie, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face against the crock of his neck, finally letting your emotions out in the form of salty tears. Donnie wasted no time pulling you in close, hiding his head against the side of yours, slowly letting his own tears fall. It felt nice to finally have each other back in your arms.

Savnet dig.. / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage… / Jeg savner dig.. / Jeg har savnet dig i 100 dage… / Savnet dig i 100 dage…

(Missed you.. / I’ve missed you for a 100 days… / I’m missing you / I’ve missed you for a 100 days… / Missed you for a 100 days…).

“I’m sorry”, Donnie finally choked out, his arms tightening  around you. “I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too”, you whimpered, leaning your head back just enough to look him in the eyes. “And I’m the one that should say sorry. I was no better. I’m so sorry Donnie”.

Donnie’s lower lip trembled for a moment, as his eyes scanned over your face, before he finally let his lips meet yours in a long and much needed kiss, you found yourself relaxing against in an instant. And as you and Donnie slowly started to sway from side to side, refusing to let go of one another, both of you quickly agreed - you would do better this time. This time you would work together and you would make an effort. You would never take your relationship for granted, ever again.

[bottomhyunjinbuffet]

Dessert Of the Day

╰┈➤ Pairings: Sub!Hyunjin x Top! Felix

╰┈➤ Summary: Hyunjin was hungry but didn't finish his food that Felix brought to be a brat, but Felix wasn't taking it

╰┈➤ Tags: Food play, overstimulation

╰┈➤ AU; This was rushed and out there, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless and if not I will redo it all just to make sure it fits the menu standards and for everyone else to enjoy!

"Felix! I'll finish it just please! Fuck!" Hyunjin whimpered, trying to get out of the cuffs that had him stuck, his hands being cuffed to the headboard, but they were the metal ones, the fuzzy ones for his soft tender hands. His bare chest rising and failing with whipped cream and strawberries even shaking with each quick breath he took, practically shaking while his legs were forced to be open while his cock was being tortured.

Felix squeezing the tip repeatedly while using hyunjin's favorite vibrator to mess with him. But another one in his ass just to get the maximum effect. Watching Hyunjin through his hair, he could see him trying to keep his eyes opened, but they were constantly rolling into the back of his head. The sweat constantly dripping down from his face to the bed, Felix knew they would have to change the sheets, but it would all be worth it.

Slowly tilting his head to the side, Felix hummed in delight at the delicious show in front of him. A whimpering, squirming hyunjin just begging to release, something he rarely ever heard but enjoyed nonetheless. How often do you hear hyungjin begging for something like his life is completely dependent on this one simply action? Rarely unless you know how to pull the strings to even get him remotely close to it.

"Hm... Maybe. I like the sounds though, reminds me of how drippy caramel is, don't you agree?" Hyunjin quickly nodded his head, his toes curling like his dull nails were digging into the palm of his sweat hands, most likely even leaving marks at the scene of it, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless. "Besides, I can't let this all go to waste now, I'd be so sad." With a fake pout, Felix leaned over, slowly licking the whipped cream off the spots he placed them on, eating the strawberries slowly while enjoying the sight of tears.

The toys were out, tossed to side of the bed ti rest for a while. Leaving a poor, tired and huffing hyunjin on the bed, trying to calm down with his shaking legs spread out, his eyes trying to scan his surroundings again, staring up at a smiling Felix, who slowly let his hands free from the cuffs.

"Looks like you'll be finishing your food from now on, hm?" Felix sat next to the tired hyunjin, watching him trying tog et his breathing back on track and move in his own sweat, twitching and shaking from his three releases and knew he couldn't take anymore. If he tried he was gonna lose his mind or maybe even just pass out.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, I got the best bath ready since maybe, Chan should be home and I can change the sheets." Hyunjin only let out a whimper while felix stood up, peaking out of the room to see a confused Chan slowly walking up the stairs with his duffle bag. "Let me guess, I'm on bath duty again?" "You know me so well dear."

[leiawritesstories]

scaredy-cat

@throneofglassmicrofics August prompt "Ferris Wheel"

here have some TOG gang county fair antics hehe ;) written while i unfortunately cannot go on fair rides because of recovery

word count: 1.2k (oops)

warnings: swearing, various antics, heights

enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Absolutely not." Rowan stepped between Aelin and Fenrys, looking suspiciously at the matching smirks the two blondes wore. "I don't like that look, Ae."

"What look?" She threw her boyfriend an innocent smile. "We're just talking about which rides we want to go on next."

"Sadly, you weren't an option," Fenrys snickered.

Rowan's eyes just about bugged out of his face, and he punched the cackling Fenrys in the shoulder. "The fuck?!"

"Calm down, boys," Aelin said, draping an arm over each of their shoulders. "Ro, babe, I promise I'll be safe." She dropped her voice to a throaty whisper. "Unless you don't want to be safe."

"Gods above." He wiped a hand down his face, fighting the way his blood rushed south. "Do I need to tie you down?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she hummed.

"Get a fuckin' room already!" Lorcan yelled, passing by with Elide sitting on his shoulders.

Rowan just flipped him off. "I think the roller coaster is closed by now, Ae," he said to his girlfriend. It had been dark for well over an hour, and most of the rides at the county fair had closed for the night.

"We were thinking the Ferris wheel," Aelin replied. "There's lights on it, and it runs all the time." She tucked herself into Rowan's side and laced her fingers with his. "I know you're not the biggest fan, but it's probably the safest ride at the fair, you hovering buzzard."

"I don't hover," he sighed, tapping the end of her nose. "I just...fuck, I don't like the idea of the ride stopping with you all the way up at the top there."

"What if you sit with me, and I can prove I'm okay if the ride stops for a couple minutes?" She winked. "I'll keep you safe, big guy."

Aedion groaned theatrically and clapped his hands over his ears. She hadn't even noticed that her cousin was walking beside her. "Can you two keep it PG for ten fucking seconds?" he complained. "Can't go ten feet without you two making eyes at each other."

"Oh yeah?" Aelin raised a brow at her irreverent cousin. "What about you flirting with every other person we walk past? You think I asked to be subjected to that?"

"Hey, hey, no fighting, kids," Rowan teased. "I can think of better ways to pass the time." He smirked wickedly at Aelin and looped his arm around her hips.

"Fucking hell!" Aedion yelped and hurried off, pretending to scrub out his eyes.

Aelin snickered. "One of these days, I swear he's gonna ask you to duel or something."

Rowan smirked. "Bring it on."

She jabbed him in the side. "I don't need either of you two idiots ending up in the hospital, babe." They came up to the Ferris wheel and got in line, and there were few enough people waiting for the ride that the line moved quickly. Within a couple of minutes, they'd shown their wristbands to the attendant and climbed into the steel car, securing the bar across their laps.

As their car slowly began to rise, Rowan inhaled softly and splayed one hand on Aelin's thigh, his posture tense. She leaned into his side, placed her hand atop his, and exhaled deeply, encouraging him to breathe with her. "I'm right here," she murmured. "'S'okay, babe." He slowly relaxed, enough that he could look out over the fairgrounds as they rose into the air, the Ferris wheel moving in a steady mechanical circle.

On their third rotation, the cars slowed, letting people on and off, and Rowan tensed up again as they climbed towards the top of the wheel. Aelin ran her hand up his leg, and he sucked in a sharp breath, tense for reasons other than their height. "What," he asked in a low, hoarse rasp, "do you think you're doing, Ae?"

"Distracting you, scaredy-cat" she practically purred. "Is it working?" Her hand crept higher.

"Aelin," he groaned, catching her wrist. "Tease."

"You love it."

"Sweet fuckin' gods!" Lorcan's voice shattered their little bubble. "The cars ain't soundproofed!"

Giggling, Aelin sat up. "There's no need to let your jealousy show, Lorky," she snickered. "I'm sure Ro would let you have a ride with him if you asked nicely."

"Oh, what the fuck." There was a thump like a fist striking the steel side of the car and Lorcan went silent.

Rowan, whose face was a heated shade of scarlet, flicked Aelin a sideways glance. "I'm not gonna---"

"Don't worry, babe." She kissed the corner of his lips. "I can get pretty possessive, and while I won't judge you for your past lovers, I don't want to share."

"Good." His hand returned to her thigh, thumb stroking lazily up and down. "I'm not sharing you either."

The Ferris wheel moved beneath them, and their car slowly circled back down to the ground. When they stopped, Rowan pushed up the safety bar and lifted Aelin out of the seat. She chuckled and whispered "caveman" in his ear, but gladly hopped onto his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her piggyback down the packed dirt path, only stopping when she rapidly drummed her fingers on his shoulder when she saw a funnel cake stand.

"Do you really need more greasy fair food, love?" he teased.

She pretended to be shocked. "What's a fair without a stomach ache?" Fenrys ran past, heading for the food truck, and she took off after him. "Bet I can eat a funnel cake faster than you can."

"Twenty bucks." He shook hands with her and proceeded to buy two funnel cakes despite her protest that she could pay for her own. He set both plates down on a picnic table and beamed at her. "Ready to lose?"

"Like hell I'm losing." With a wickedly playful grin, she sat down across from him and quietly tore open a packet of powdered sugar behind her back. "Three, two, one...go!" On go, she flung the powder in Fen's face, and he coughed and waved at the cloud of sugar as she tore into her funnel cake.

"No fair!" he squawked when he regained his voice.

Aelin licked the last crumbs of her funnel cake off her fingers and grinned at him. "Never said I had to play fair, Fenny boy." He huffed indignantly and took a massive bite of his half-eaten funnel cake, and she chuckled. "Pay up?"

"Gonna make me go broke," he grumbled, but he handed over a twenty. Just before the cash passed into her hand, he stopped, and a grin lit up his face. "Wanna go double or nothing?"

"Oh no you don't," she laughed, plucking the money from his grasp. "Last time you asked me that, I somehow found myself on Lorcan's roof, and that's not something I wanna repeat."

"Boring," Fenrys drawled.

Rowan rolled his eyes. "More like safe." Groans arose from around the table at Rowan's favorite word, but he just laughed and flipped them all off. "Nothing wrong with being safe."

"I'm gettin' sleepy," Aelin whispered into his ear before the others could rib him for being overbearing. "Wanna take me to bed?"

If they hadn't been very much in public, he probably would have thrown her over his shoulder. "We're gonna head home," he said as he stood up, her hand in his.

"Be safe!" Aedion yelled as they walked towards the parking lot. Aelin flipped him off over her shoulder.

"Idiots," she chuckled.

The best idiots.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[anarchiii]

World’s apart-8 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part eight | warnings: angst, Dorian. . . | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; Pain and suffering one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he’s not meant for this world, but maybe he is meant for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Disclaimer; Nehemia doesn’t exist in this world, okay?

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Celaena’s POV

The only sounds were the dripping of melting ice from the remnants of winter, spring finally making an appearance, and the sounds of pages flipping accompanied by the soft snoring of Fleetfoot beneath her feet.

Her eyes burned from hours of scanning books, now, she just saw the words not really reading them, “we should take a break, we’ve been at this for hours.” Azriel said from where he was lounging next to her. Those mysterious glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, one of those lovely scarred hands of his held the Walking Dead, the book appearing in their room late on night, his other hand rubbing her sock covered feet from where she had carelessly put them on his lap. Celaena made a contemplative sound in response. Putting down the book she was scanning and getting off the bed, not noticing how Azriel’s hands had tightened on her feet as if he hadn’t wanted to let them go before he eventually did.

Celaena let out a comical yawn and stretched her arms out wide, the male behind her watching her move, although his gaze could be unnerving sometimes, it was also comforting, it was nice to know someone was watching her back. Something a friend would do.

And the Gods knew she could use a friend, even if Azriel wasn’t around long, his company was still nice.

Celaena was nearly out the door, walking past Dorian, when Azriel grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn around, she practically fast-planted into his chest but looked up at him anyway. Finding his piercing gaze on her once more. She couldn’t describe the way he looked at her, there were so many emotions swimming around in those pools of whiskey, he looked at her in a way no one had before, not even her own parents. He looked at her as if he saw her. Saw her and was not afraid. . .

He cleared his throat, his grip still tight but not painful, his scars touching her own, “you forget shoes—and a jumper,” he said, his voice clear. “Right. Of course,” she said, still looking at him.

Both of them stood there, watching eachother intently, breaths mingling from how close they were to one another, Celaena’s gaze flickered from his lovely eyes to his lips, and wondering how they would feel against hers.

It was complete silence for a few minutes before another throat was cleared, this time coming from the couch, Dorian, they both whipped their heads to the prince, finding him rapidly blinking and smiling slightly, “am I interrupting something? If so, I can be quiet, ” He said. His voice gravely from lack of water. Celaena pulled away from Azriel and picked up a glass of water that had been sitting on a small table and handed it to Dorian, sitting down next to him as he drank deeply from the glass.

“How are you feeling?” She said after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, the prince put down the glance and turned to face her, she winced slightly at his expression, “I’ve been better, but not bad. Honestly. It was nice to get to sleep in. Though, I have to ask, how did no one find out where or why I was gone for what. . . Two days—” “three, three days,” Azriel cut in. Dorian looked to the male finally. Frowning deeply at him before turning back to her.

“Uh,” shit, how had she kept everyone from asking questions? That hadn’t even crossed her mind, not good, Celaena would have to look into that. Later.

She gave her friend—or whatever she called him—her fakest smile, watching as he huffed, clearly pleased, she knew without looking that Azriel saw straight through that smile. “I have my ways.” She said simply, getting up from the couch and groaning as her knees ached, her knees had never been good. But they had gotten especially worse in the past few months. She’d simply chalked it up to the weather.

She walked out of the room, leaving them in there alone, she needed a break from this and even though Celaena’s walk had been interrupted, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do something to take her mind off things, bath it was, she turned the tap on and watched patiently as the water poured into the tub. Steam rising up to meet her face.

She put a variety of soaps and scented things in the bath before getting it, instantly calming at the heat, hot things had always had a way of doing that, Arobynn had wanted to see how much heat I could handle, faint burn marks on her arms as proof of his curiosity, Celaena swished around the water. Watching the water flow over and around her skin. It felt cleansing almost.

If she could even be cleansed, that is.

The knocking on the bathroom door pulled her out of her thoughts, “come in,” she said, not looking at who it was, hopefully it wasn’t Dorian, because it would end up with him in this bath with her. Whether she wanted him in with her or not. She had not a clue what that man saw in her, then again, he could fall for a pebble and be okay with it, he probably was.

She heard the door open and someone walk in, their footsteps near silent, Azriel then, Chaol didn’t possess the gift of silence.

A sharp inhale of air made her turn around to find Azriel staring at her, no, not her, her back.

-

Azriel’s POV

He couldn’t stop staring at her back, it was brutalised, he wasn’t disgusted by it, Cauldron no, he was furious. Furious that someone had done that to her. When he found the person that did this to her. . .

“You’re staring,” Celaena said blankly, there was fear in her eyes, fear that she would be judged, he knew that feeling all too well. “Who did this to you?” Azriel asked quitely. Not straying from the skin, it looked like whip marks, he only knew that because he had inflicted them before, he still heard the cracking when he slept—or tried to—“I was. . . I was a slave, in Endovier, a salt mine. When I stopped or didn’t exceed in my job the Overseer would use his whip. He would sometimes use it even when I had behaved.”

There was red hot anger coursing through Azriel as he thought of all the ways he could repay that Overseer— “he’s dead,” she said, reading his thoughts, “since he gave me a metal tipped whip for my eighteenth birthday, I gave him a picaxe in the stomach for his.” He blinked at the calm fury so blatant on her face, “good girl,” he said, a slight smile on his face, she didn’t return it, simply turning around again.

Sensing that she wasn’t in the mood for talking, he left, heading for their bed.

-

Azriel was reading when Celaena finally came out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet, with only a towel wrapped around her, she crawled into bed, turning her back on him, perhaps he had asked too much about her past. If she had been in Endovier when she was eighteen then it had only been a year since. It had taken Azriel centuries to even be able to look at his hands, how could he expect her to open up so soon?

He blew out the candle and laid down, he stared up at the ceiling for a while, perhaps a few hours, it wasn’t until he felt her shivering that he strayed from his thoughts, Celaena pulled the blankets tighter around herself but still shook, he had a feeling the cold she was experiencing was not from the temperature, a different sort of cold. A wicked sort.

Before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, his chest meeting her back, he held her tighter until the shivering stopped, but when he went to let go, he found she would not let go, instead moving as close to Azriel as she could, and he could’ve sworn a smile bloomed on her face when he didn’t stop her.

The End.

-Taglist

@azrielslittleslut

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@aelincaddel

[icey--stars]

Part 3: 3.3k words, Eris's POV

Series Index

A story of finding solace in another. Azriel finds himself needing danger in a peaceful world, and what is better than the Autumn Court, ruled by his old nemesis, Eris Vanserra?

a/n: Time for Eris's POV >:)

Also, I’d just like to apologize for even the mention of the number “thirteen” for those who’ve read the TOG series. I immediately regretted it and now I feel like crying.

WARNINGS: brief mentions of drug use

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Eris

To be completely honest with himself, Eris didn’t have a damn clue what he was doing as High Lord. He was just trying to make positive changes and not follow his father’s advice on being High Lord. Sure, he’d learned how to do things like council meetings (but only violent ones) and write to lords across the court, but never one that was meant to bring positive news.

All in all, the Autumn Court was looking up into a new age of… happiness, but Eris still didn’t know what he was doing. When he’d become High Lord, he’d immediately gotten rid of his father’s council, instilled his own loyal portion of the army as guards, and set to work on finding new, creative minds to help him manage Autumn. Though he tried to not seem too radical in instilling all reasonable females, he did manage to get three females into his agricultural, economic, and foreign affairs areas. 

When peace had come to the land of Prythian officially, he felt… more free. More free than he’s ever felt in his entire life of seemingly endless battles. Battles fought in his mind, battles fought politically against his father, or physical battles against enemies of all sorts.

His changes to the Autumn Court were positive, but he just wished he knew what he was doing. Jax, the next oldest Vanserra brother who was also trained in how to be the High Lord, was no help at all. In fact, as soon as Eris had permitted him to leave as he wished as long as he caused no harm to anyone, he’d left and only came around when Eris requested it of him, like visiting Velaris in the Night Court.

So that left his only assistance lying with his mother who currently lived in another court, the High Lord of that court, which just was not a good idea when trying to show that he was still a strong leader for Autumn, or he had his other two brothers: Hue and Kuhn. However, neither of them have much experience beyond council meetings and foreign affairs. They don’t know how the military runs or how agriculture works. Sure, they knew the bare basics to know what to say when someone was talking about it, but it wasn’t enough to be useful. And Eris doesn’t even want to get started on economics. They had no experience in managing funds. At all.

Sure, they were his more friendly brothers whom he practically raised himself, but they were no help when it came to ruling Autumn.

So basically, Eris has been ruling Autumn by sheer stress and will and by taking any (and when he says any, he means any) advice he could find and trying to use it in a way to achieve his own goals. Those goals were equality and the entire Autumn Court prospering like Velaris was.

And oh how difficult it was.

Eris was currently sitting at his desk, writing a letter to a lord requesting a tax break for the year to deal with the new wage increases for his workers and to expand his farms. He was accepting, as long as the lord promised to compensate in some way like an interest payment for the next year. A mirthroot cigarette was in between two of his fingers as he smoked, breathing out the smoke. It was calming him enough to work.

However exhausted he felt, he’d failed to fall asleep just moments ago though. After returning from the Night Court, his mind kept floating back to one particular shadowsinger.

As he signed off the letter and used wax to imprint the High Lord’s seal, shaped in a maple leaf, he thought more about the male. The outfit he’d chosen tonight had looked sinfully good on him. The black dress pants hugged his ass just right and the vest. He’d never thought that Azriel was meant to be in a vest but Cauldron-

When he’d complimented Azriel, “You clean up well, shadowsinger,” he had been completely truthful. Truthfully, Azriel had looked like a 7-course meal of desserts tonight.

And he couldn’t get it out of his Cauldron-damned mind. Even with his standoffish behavior during the visit or when he’d spontaneously appeared in the Autumn Court, Eris was having trouble getting the male out of his thoughts.

It was truly a problem. Was he attracted to Azriel? Surely not; the male hated him. 

For over 500 years they’ve been enemies. Sure, most of the problem had just been a bit of miscommunication and a need for the truth to come to light, but that meant nothing. They’d still lied, hurt, and tried to kill each other plenty of times. Eris was not attracted to Azriel. It just wasn’t plausible. So Eris would have to settle for the fact that Azriel was just interesting. His magic, his Illyrian ethnicity, and the fact that he was already so mysterious as Spymaster of the Night Court.

That’s right, Eris was just interested in learning more about Azriel, which was a normal urge considering most people knew nothing about him.

Eris sighed as he set the letter back down on his desk and stood suddenly. He pushed his chair back under his desk and then groaned as he stretched his arms by folding it against his chest and using his other to go down around it to stretch it further.

He winnowed from his office to his bedroom a few doors down and lay in bed, determined to either fall asleep or at least rest. Honestly, his work-life balance was already hard enough without his sleep schedule being normal. He was either up late and woke up around nine to ten or he passed the fuck out and woke up at 3 in the morning, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. There was no in-between.

Eventually, Eris did fall asleep, but it took a while. But when he jerked awake at the sound of someone knocking on his door, he knew he’d fallen into a deeper sleep than usual. How odd.

“Eris!” Hue yelled through the door. “Wake up you overworked dickhead! It is noon!”

Eris rubbed his eyes and cursed his sleep schedule before rising out of bed to open the door before Hue could tear it down. “What?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe as Hue reluctantly lowered his fist.

“It’s noon. You should be awake by now. The council is also waiting on you in the meeting room.”

Eris groaned. “Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes. And do not tell them I was asleep.”

Hue nodded. “I’ll tell them you were caught up with work.”

Eris nodded and then shut the door to go into the bathroom and deal with whatever bedhead he probably had.

As he glanced in the mirror, he was grumbling at the misplaced strands and part that ended up all mismatched. He picked up his brush and wet it a little to tame his wild hair. Once it looked good, he dried it with a brief flare of heat and then changed into a clean set of clothes. His back ached already, but he was too tired to keep his posture right, so he settled for tightening a red-orange corset over his dress shirt and tucking the strings back into it.

He grabbed a black hair tie just in case he needed it and then put on his red dress shoes before walking quickly down to the meeting room.

As he entered, he didn’t apologize but once he sat down, he said plainly, “I got caught up in other work. Let’s begin.”

Absolute fucking hell. That’s what council meetings were. Sure, he managed to keep people from attempting to kill each other, like meetings used to be. It used to be similar to the High Lords' meeting before the Hybern final battle. But it was still exhausting to hear so many annoying words and arguments. Honestly, it would be so easy if people could just agree. But nobody would concede to a perfectly valid point today.

He was almost relieved when he heard from a guard that the shadowsinger had been spotted, and was waiting for him just outside the wards.

Eris immediately took the opportunity to escape.

He winnowed to the front of the Forest House and began walking down the pathway toward the winged male ahead with his hands in his pocket. He was wearing the usual black set of leathers. Eris was still wondering if he ever cleaned the damn things.

As he got closer, Azriel shifted on his feet uncomfortably as Eris slowed his gait. “Come again so soon, shadowsinger?” Eris asked with a smirk. “Is the Night Court that unfulfilling? Perhaps with you coming by so often, I should put you to work.”

Azriel scoffed. “As if you could find anything that my skills are useful for,” he said.

Eris raised a brow. “Any particular reason for your visit today?” His tone was a tad more sincere and less mocking this time.

Azriel shrugged. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes, but my council can wait. Would you like to take a walk, shadowsinger?” Eris offered. Anything to get out of that damned room. He swears he’s not like his father, but sometimes the violent tendencies he has when he’s frustrated make him wonder.

Azriel stared at him for a while longer. “Why?”

“My hounds need a walk,” he conjured a lie easily. “And while you are here, seeking entertainment, you might as well come along.”

“I never said I was seeking entertainment.”

“Why else are you here then, shadowsinger? Did Rhys want to give me a time for another meeting? Surely you’re not spying on your newest allies.”

Azriel glared at him and Eris merely smiled with a corner of his mouth in victory. “You’re bored, and I can’t blame you in the slightest. I’m giving you an out, shadowsinger, from facing further questioning.”

Finally, after a seemingly endless amount of time, Azriel sighed. “Fine. Where are your hounds?”

“Just down the road,” Eris replied. “I’m sure you can survive walking a fourth of a mile.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I can, but can you?”

Eris smirked at the teasing. “Of course I can, Azriel. You might be surprised how often I take my hounds out on walks.”

Azriel's right wing twitched, which Eris had long since learned meant that the shadowsinger was mildly uncomfortable. Most likely, in this case, he didn’t know how to respond.

Eris walked past Azriel, forcing the male to turn to avoid Eris from walking into his wings. “Come along, shadowsinger. Be a good boy now.”

“I am not a dog, Eris,” Azriel growled as he followed Eris, stepping faster to walk beside him.

“Oh, but you listen just like one, don’t you?”

Azriel glowered at Eris, turning his head back to the path. Eris found it much too entertaining to rile up the shadowsinger. And good for that.

“Oh relax,” Eris said. “Don’t get your balls in a twist.”

“I was unaware you even knew what balls were,” Azriel retorted.

Eris grinned and chuckled. Now that was more like the male he expected. “You might find that I am the best person to ask regarding balls as you put them.”

“Sure,” Azriel replied sarcastically.

Eris rolled his eyes and finally spotted the cabin down the road that housed his hounds. It was warm and comfortable for their pens and allowed them more free range to go to the bathroom when they needed to through the dog door in the back. He trusted them all by now to return to the warmth inside.

“Stay there,” Eris said, pointing to the ground.

“Why?” Azriel countered, stepping past the point.

“Because,” Eris insisted, “unless you want to be tackled to the ground by twelve ghost hounds, you are going to wait right there like a good Illyrian.”

Azriel huffed and paused in his step, watching Eris walk to the door and open it.

The hounds came rushing out and Eris whistled sharply to call them back from the male who flared his wings slightly at the sight of all twelve ghost hounds rushing toward him.

Though, they were trained well, so they turned back to return to Eris after the whistle.

“Good,” Eris praised them. One moved toward Azriel again and Eris glared at the dog. “Soot,” He drawled in a disappointed tone.

The dog turned back to him and then drooped slightly and returned to Eris’s side. The little troublemaker was incapable of following simple directions sometimes, but Eris still loved him.

He noticed Azriel’s eyes straying to the left and followed his gaze while leaning down to pet Ash who’d rolled onto his back for belly rubs. His corset made it harder, but it was manageable. Oh. That’s what Azriel was looking at. A grave sat under the dogwood tree parallel to the cabin. Eris’s heart tugged for a second at the memory of placing it there.

“I’ve only lost one,” Eris explained. 

He stood and said loudly, “Sit!” The dogs sat and he walked toward Azriel slightly.

“How?” Azriel questioned without betraying any emotion in his tone.

Eris grimaced slightly. “Adria was the pup to grow up with my littlest brother. When he ran over the Spring Court border, she tried to follow and was shot by an arrow.”

“Ah,” Azriel hummed. “I was under the impression you’ve always had twelve.”

“Nope,” Eris said. “Thirteen in spirit.”

Azriel nodded and turned to look at all the other ghost hounds who had huge tongues lolling out of their mouths and violently wagging tails. “What are their names?”

“How about I tell you as we walk?” Eris suggested. “For once you seem curious, shadowsinger. I must confess I like this new look on you.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “If I’m curious, Eris, it's probably for a reason that you don’t know.”

Eris smirked. “Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it for now.” He shrugged. He whistled sharply and turned to walk down a skinnier path that forced Eris and Azriel to walk quite a bit closer if they didn’t want someone to be in front of the other.

The dogs immediately tried to sniff Azriel, either following his trail or shoving their noses into his clothing. Percy, Eris noticed, shoved his nose into the shadowsinger’s wings, and the male jumped and glared at the dog. “Call off your dogs,” Azriel growled.

“Sensitive wings?” Eris teased but waved off the dogs. “Go hunt a rabbit, you idiots,” he ordered. “Hunt!”

That sent all their ears straight up and them rushing into the woods to be the first to bring their owner something.

“Percy was my first. The hound who decided to shove his nose somewhere unwelcomed.”

“Stupid dog,” Azriel muttered.

Eris glared at him for that comment. “Percy is my most intelligent and all of them are faster than any fae alive. Many are trained in controlled aggression as well, shadowsinger.”

Azriel glanced at him and then sighed. “Fine. Not stupid. Not polite.”

Eris chuckled. “Conceding a point is rare for you, shadowsinger. But I appreciate your rewording. These dogs are the most pampered and well-trained in all of the Autumn Court.”

“What is controlled aggression?” Azriel asked.

Eris pursed his lips, thinking of how to best explain it. “I can order one of the dogs trained in it to attack someone, but as soon as I tell them to release, they will, with no hard feelings. It’s aggression, like biting and attacking and barking that is completely under my control.”

Azriel hummed in acknowledgment.

A dog came running out of the bushes, carrying a rabbit in its mouth. “Good boy Rue,” Eris commented. He conjured a leather pouch and leaned down to the dog with it open. Rue proudly dropped it in and then walked beside Eris, in between him and Azriel. Rue happily pushed his head into Azriel’s hand, whining softly.

Azriel looked down at the dog and then hesitantly petted him. Eris watched the interaction with rapt attention. He rarely saw his dogs act such a way to strangers. The sniffing had been normal for someone not trying to harm Eris, but outright friendliness was only reserved for very specific people. Like his mother, Hue, Kuhn, or Lucien. Once or twice, there’s been an instance where the hounds reacted positively to someone outside the court, like Helion, but that was it. This was new and Eris was very… interested in his dog’s opinions of Azriel.

Rue yipped happily and licked Azriel’s hand. Azriel recoiled slightly but seemed to relax into the licking. Eris knew about the scars on Azriel’s hand. Perhaps they made it more sensitive? It would make more sense to be less sensitive but what did Eris know?

(He did know a lot about burns. Just not on highly sensitive areas like the hands.)

“He likes you,” Eris commented.

“Clearly,” Azriel pointed out. “He’s very friendly.”

“Only with particular people,” Eris answered ominously.

Azriel hummed. Eris stared at him for a moment longer before turning to see three more happy hounds carrying their prizes from their hunt. Eris chuckled and opened the leather pouch again. They were catching their dinner tonight.

However, Eris still found it odd that his dogs liked Azriel so much. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe Azriel deserved a bit more trust than he got. Eris didn’t know, but his hounds’ opinions of people affected his own opinions. With Beron, they always growled. With his mother, they loved her. With any of Beron’s council, they almost outright attacked them and anyone like Helion who was pretty relaxed and peaceful overall, was ignored.

So all in all, he trusted his hounds’ judgments. So he could try and relax a little around Azriel. Maybe it’d bring out whatever his dogs were seeing in him.

After all the dogs had hunted their meals for the day, Eris turned back.

“You never told me all their names,” Azriel murmured once they turned.

Eris hummed. “You’re right. I didn’t. There are twelve, of course. Going in order of when I got them, their names are: Percy, Vixen, Selena, Cadoc, Nimbus, Sorrel, Soot, Ash, Taunya, Pyro, Rue, and Jack.”

“They’re all trained?” Azriel asked incredulously. “How long have you had them?”

“They are, shadowsinger. Don’t look so shocked. I’m sure I’d be surprised by how well your little shadows floating around you work. I’ve had Percy, however, since I was around twelve.”

“My shadows aren’t that complicated,” Azriel argued.

Eris raised a brow. “Care to share, then?”

“They just talk to me in a language nobody else can understand or hear, but they listen in on whatever they want.”

“Give me an example of something they’ve told you about me,” Eris said. “What secrets have you managed to gather?”

Azriel hummed in thought, his eyes going up before refocusing on Eris. “They tell me you woke up late today.”

Eris’s brows furrowed and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I won’t lie, then.”

“Do you work on High Lord things normally late into the night?”

Eris turned to glare at Azriel. “That’s none of your business.”

Azriel lifted a brow but didn’t reply.

Eventually, they made it back to the Forest House, luckily much later than any of the council would wait for him to return.

“I do have some paperwork to get to, shadowsinger. But I do hope you found some sort of entertainment.”

Azriel didn’t reply for a moment before he finally choked out a response when Eris didn’t move on without one. “I did.”

Eris’s lips tilted up. “Good. You aren’t so bad, shadowsinger. You just need some practice in peace.”

Azriel seemed to grimace before quickly saying, “Goodbye” and winnowing away in a swift burst of shadows.

Eris chuckled and put his dogs away, leaving the leather pouch for later when he would clean their meals for the night and add more healthy snacks into it.

When he got to his desk, he sighed as he spotted a huge pile of paper. So, he lit another cigarette and got to work.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @fieldofdaisiies, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468, @acotargiftexchange, @mali22

and the 🌟 of the show: @catboyjamesbond

Ask in the comments to be added!

[lattezzsposts]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10

i had arrived at rehearsal. charlie had asked me to fill in for mads because she had schooling to do. we'd be practicing on our own for now, it wasn't technically rehearsal time for the dance but charlie wanted to get extra practice in. he was nervous because it was his first time dancing professionally.

" ready? " he smiled, plugging his phone in. i nodded and charlie started to sing. i felt butterflies in my stomach as we had gotten to the part where he lifts me up and spins me around. his eyes locking onto mine as his chin rested on my stomach.

he sets me down, doing his little dance part on the floor and places his hands on my waist. spinning me around and then lifting me up again. he places his on waist as he was going to set me down, my hands resting on his shoulder.

i remembered us at the beach, him resting his hands on my waist and me wrapping my arms around his neck. i swear, he was leaning down to kiss me but the doors opened and we jumped apart. " hey, julie's dad is buying lunch for us. what do you guys want? " jeremy asked.

charlie and i both told him our orders, he smirked and threw me a wink before walking away. "uh, you're a pretty good dancer " i smiled at charlie. he scratched the back of his neck and smiled at me. "' thanks, it means a lot coming from a dancer " he stepped closer to me.

i could feel his breath on me, our eyes met. " we should probably go " i whispered. charlie kissed the side of my head and smiled. " i can't wait for our camping trip " he smiled. i knew i wasn't going to enjoy it but i did want to spend some alone time with charlie.

that was the sacrifice i was willing to pay. i ran my hands through his hair before kissing his cheek. i grabbed my bag and nodded at him. he had done the same and we both walked out of the practice room together. a smile resting on tori's face as she walking towards us.

" i'm going have to steal your girlfriend for a moment " she wiggled her eyes brows as at charlie. i gave her a look. " she's not my girlfriend, yet " charlie told tori but mumbled the last part. i could still hear it as tori grabbed my hand and led me somewhere.

we walked into the main practice room and there stood jeremy with a familiar woman. " carolynn? " i asked as she turned around. she squealed. " kat! " we ran towards each other and i tackled her to the ground. we started to laugh and gave each other a hug.

" i'm stealing her away from you " i stuck my tongue out at jeremy who laughed. charlie had joined us and wrapped an arm around jeremy. " it's fine, owen already stole you from charlie " jeremy teased. tori, mads, savannah, and jadah had joined us.

we all laid on the floor, laughing and joking around. the boys were watching us. we started to plan a girls night at my apart while, the boys including my brother and the band would have a boys night with charlie, jeremy, and owen. it was great time for us to talk about things without the other gender around.

──── ୨୧ ────

we had in fact done a girls night, the boys were at owen and charlie's apartment. charlie had texted me that they were doing a pizza and video game night. we're doing a cute little skin care and watching romance movies night. " girl, if you and charlie don't end up dating at the end of this trip then i'm suing him " carolynn commented.

we're doing face masks right now and trying to figure out what movie to watch. " i'm going to bug the shit out of him if he doesn't make a damn move " tori stated as we all laughed. the conversation continued for a while about charlie but was so shifted to the creepy guy on my floor.

" so, basically he can't take rejection? " carolynn asked as we all nodded. her face winced in disgust. " like we've told him several times to stay away, get the damn hint dude " savannah commented as we all nodded. there was a knock at the door, it was probably the pizzas we order.

i had set up cute, pink little decorations and party favors. it would be one of the rare times we'd spent together so it was natural that i went all out. i walked to open the door and there this guys was. standing there. " what? " it came out more hostile than i intended.

" i wanted to say sorry for always bothering, i just think you're really pretty and wanted to get to know you " he sighed. i would have gotten to know him if he wasn't so damn creepy and always showing up in places i was at. " goodbye " i said, shutting the door and locking it. i went back to the living room.

" our friend came back " i commented as tori rolled her eyes. " again? man can't get the hint " she responded. another knock on the door was heard. i walked over to check the peep hole and he was still there. " please, just give me a chance " he begged as i rolled my eyes, he continued to knock.

carolynn glanced at me. " should we call the guys? it seems like he won't leave this alone " she stated. i hate to bother them but she was right. he just continued to knock and knock. carolynn called jeremy who told he was on his way with the other guys. he just told us to wait it out in my bed room.

we went inside of my bed room and locked the door. it seemed like forever but we heard the door of my apartment opening. it couldn't have been him, only kai had the extra key to my apartment building. " kat, it's us " i heard my brother's voice knock on the door and i felt like i could breath.

i opened the door and the guys stood there. carolynn going straight towards jeremy and i went towards charlie. i normally would have gone to my brother but i wanted charlie's comfort, i needed his comfort. charlie's arms wrapped around me, whispering that it was okay. owen and the others had checked on tori, jadah, and mads.

──── ୨୧ ────

@katrinahart

liked by savannahleemay and 231,921 others. katrinahart : girls night with some pretty girls

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savannahleemay : you're the prettiest

themadisonereyes : i can't get over how pretty you are

thejadahmarie : please, ma'am you're so pretty

thejeremyshada : our pretty girls | owenjoyner : correction, our prettiest girls

owenjoyner : mamas, all of you are so pretty

charles_gillespie : some of the prettiest girls there is

toricaro : you're so pretty that it hurts

username : ugh, i love to see girls nights

username : i love how the boys are hyping up our queens

username : the girls in this cast and carolynn are so pretty

[mangostarjam]

breakfast options — haikyuu, miya osamu x f!reader, neighbors au, set a little before the timeskip, just some soft fluffy fluff, 1.4k words

Miya Osamu wakes up to the early dawn light knowing two things.

One: That was the best sleep he's had in months.

Two: This is not his bed.

The sheets are softer — the bed is narrower and pushed up against a wall — and it smells like fresh laundry detergent when Osamu knows for a fact that he hasn't lugged his laundry to the machines downstairs in weeks.

This is not his bed. This isn't even his room or his apartment. The biggest, most obvious clue nuzzles into his chest and sighs.

Osamu's arm tightens around you automatically.

He's so fucked.

Your bare legs are pressed up against his own and you're so soft and warm and relaxed, breathing deeply in sleep, utterly unconcerned about the fact that your neighbor somehow got into your apartment and into your bed with you. Osamu can feel the barest sliver of skin beneath his fingers as your shirt rises and wonders how much his ma will yell at him for messing up this badly with you.

"Mm… 'Samu…?"

He's so fucked.

"Yeah?"

"Why're you awake?"

Osamu can't help the fond huff that escapes his lips and you bury your face further into his chest. He wonders if you can feel the taiko drum beat of his heart in your dreams.

You sniff and your fingers curl into his shirt. "Now I'm awake," you complain quietly, voice muffled in his chest. "Did you need to go to work or something? You seemed so tired last night. Sleep a lil' longer."

"Hey… did I… did I get the wrong door? Last night?" His voice is scratchy, but you don't seem to mind. You shiver a little in his hold and he automatically tugs you closer.

"Hmm…?" It takes a moment as you think through the sleep fog of your mind. Osamu can hear the distant click of your refrigerator humming and the chirp of birds waking up outside.

"You used your spare key and scared the heck out of me," you mumble, shoulders shaking as you snicker at the memory. Osamu wishes he could see your face — well, maybe not. His own cheeks are burning with mortification. "You were like a zombie, Miya-kun."

Something in his stomach swoops with disappointment at the return of honorifics. But — you still haven't untangled yourself from him, and you seem perfectly content to lay here with his arms around you, so maybe — ?

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmurs. "I musta been more wiped than I thought."

"You need to take care of yourself," you scold lightly, finally peeking up at his face. Your eyes widen when they meet his, and for some strange reason you immediately reach up to cover your mouth. Osamu's stomach clenches with hurt. It's not like he was planning on kissing you right now — not after practically breaking into your apartment and commandeering your bed.

And especially not if you don't want him to. Not if you're hiding from him like this.

"Sorry," you mumble. Your gaze feels intentional. Osamu wonders vaguely if he has drool on his cheek. "I don't want you to smell my morning breath."

It's silent for a moment. The two of you breathe in unison as Osamu stares down at you, incredulous, until you break the connection and bury your face in his chest again. "Oy."

"I'm going back to sleep."

That makes him laugh. His body jostles yours and you twist around defensively, nearly dislodging his hold as he clamps his arm back around your waist. "Miya-kun," you mumble. He can hear the pout in your voice, even if he can't see it. "Let's go back to sleep."

"There's no way I'm fallin' back asleep like this," Osamu says.

"What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong. This is everything he's wanted with you for the past few years, ever since he first saw you go wide eyed over the neighborly bento he held out to you, the delight in your huge grin only growing when you looked up and met his eye.

It's been days and months and years since then, time filled with fond teasing over textbooks, quiet secrets whispered over cups of coffee way too late at night, grocery shopping together and trying out gimmicky snacks that stained your lips blue. You're his neighbor, his friend, his staunch supporter.

His classmate, a few times, when your schedules aligned in university. His coworker, sometimes, when you volunteer yourself to help him with his stall at various events around the city.

But that's it. Or — that was it, until you started getting touchier and clingier and Osamu's hopes spiraled higher and higher.

"'Samu? Did you fall back asleep?"

Osamu presses his face into your hair. He can be weak just this once, right? It's still too early to confess — his business doesn't even have a storefront yet, he hasn't made a name for himself yet — and you deserve someone with all that and more.

"Nah," he says quietly, "I'm up."

"Don't get any ideas," you mumble sleepily. "I haven't had a man in my bed in years, so if I punch you later it's 'cause I forgot about last night."

This shouldn't make him so happy. He hides his smile in your hair. He's been so busy lately it's been hard trying to figure out if you've had anyone over, though your apartment has always only shown signs of one occupant. He didn't want to assume.

"Why didn't ya kick me out?"

"That'd be cruel and unusual," you scoff. Your fingers curl over his forearm before sliding to his hand. Osamu's breath catches for just a second as you begin playing with his fingers, seemingly oblivious to how the temperature beneath the blankets has ratcheted up several degrees.

"You can kick me out now, ya know," Osamu offers half heartedly. At least he can safely tell his ma that he tried.

You bring his hand up to your lips and his heart just about stops. Softly — so softly — you press a kiss to his palm and then his wrist, featherlight touches that have every nerve ending standing at attention. Osamu shifts his hips away guiltily, resisting the urge to press up into you, heart slamming back into rhythm at full force.

"You'd leave without having breakfast first?"

"You'd let me make ya breakfast?"

You bite the tip of his finger and he bites back a groan. "Do you always make your girls breakfast the morning after?"

Osamu frowns. He wants to see your face. "There's never been a girl or a morning after."

"Oh." You hum thoughtfully, pressing his fingertip to your lips, entirely unaware of the silent battle Osamu is waging against his own body behind you. "So I'll be the first?"

"You're the only one it's ever gonna be."

Stupid. Osamu can practically hear his twin yelling at him to just confess already.

He can feel the curve of your smile against his palm as you press another featherlight kiss there. "I'll keep waiting, then," you say quietly, voice muffled against his skin.

You shift and turn back to face him, putting a few precious inches between your bodies as you blink up at him in the slowly brightening light. Osamu can't help staring, memorizing the gentle curve of your smile and the softness in your sleepy gaze. His heart feels like it's threatening to burst out of his chest, joy expanding like bubbles in his ribcage.

"What d'ya want for breakfast?"

Your smile grows crooked.

"I want an omelet this time."

Osamu can feel his own lips tugging up in the corners. "And next time?"

"Hmm. How about a breakfast onigiri?"

A laugh escapes his lips and his grin only grows wider with your answering giggle. "I can do that for ya."

"What about a kiss?"

Your eyes are sparkling in the light and he — he wants to say "yes" — but then your expression falls and you hold up a hand suddenly. "Wait, I take that back," you explain quickly, "I need to brush my teeth first."

Osamu laughs. He tugs you closer, an arm heavy around your waist, anchoring you back into him even as you whine. "You're gonna hafta get used to this," he points out smugly.

You slap your hands over your mouth and glare halfheartedly at him. "No way."

"It's alright, darlin'," he says. You blink as his gaze steadies on yours. Osamu wonders if you have any idea that you look at him like this — like he's special, and deserving, and like you trust him with everything. He's tried for months now to pretend he doesn't see it, scared to get his hopes up too high, but now?

Now he hopes you'll always look at him like this. "I won't make you wait much longer."

[casspurrjoybell-32]

Runaway Wolf - Chapter 7b

*Warning Adult Content*

Levi Blackman

It took an hour rounding up the gang and getting them in their cars while I held on to all their keys.

I had to call Matthew’s band mates for help... each taking one of my friend's car, to take them home, while one other band mate followed behind each car.

I thought it be best if Matthew went to his place because he’s not the nicest person with a hangover and I didn’t want Kyle to witness Mattzilla in the morning.

It was midnight when we had everyone home safe and sound and my bed was calling my name.

I climbed out of my car and walked to my door with Kyle behind me.

I grabbed the knob ready to put my key in the slot when I twisted it slightly and it opened.

I stiffened, opening the door... I remember locking it… or did I?

Warily I flipped on the lights and pup sat at the doorway wagging his tail and shot over to Kyle jumping on him in excitement.

I looked down at the wolf, well if someone did try to brake in I bet they had a hell of a surprise didn’t they.

I glanced around and nothing seemed to be out of place, I subtly took a sniff of the air but only got the normal scents all besides Kyle and the wolf so I shrugged and placed the bottle of white wine I bought in the fridge.

Turning towards the couch I went over to make it back up for him putting the pillow in place and threw the sheet down tucking it in the couch.

“You don’t have to do that,” Kyle voiced behind me making me jump at the sudden noise.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and smiled still grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch to tuck that in to.

“Already done,” I shrugged.

I couldn’t help myself but want to help him out a little.

He smiled gently and I realized it was the first smile I’d seen since this morning.

He sat down sighing.

“So, that was Matt?” he said running a hand through his hair and I felt my nerves start up.

I sank down next to him.

“Yep,” I breathed unable to look at him.

Was it bad to feel guilty flaunting a boyfriend in front of your oblivious mate?

“H-he’s nice?” he muttered softly sounding more like a question than a statement.

This caused me to snap my head in his direction.

“You like him?” I asked in awe.

Kyle just shrugged.

“I really don’t have a say in it, so it doesn’t matter if I like him or not.” he said matter-factly but I sensed the underlining displeasure.

So he didn’t like him.

I felt myself soften at this... this all wasn’t fair to him.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, to sooth away any discomfort or anger but I held back.

As my eyes wandered over his handsome face I noticed a discoloration in his temple.

Instinctually I lent closer and reach out unaware of what I was doing in my moment of concern as my fingers ran down a long ridged white scar that contrasted against his tan skin.

Kyle went stiff, hissing though clenched teeth.  

Abruptly he caught my hand in a swift motion turning to face me all in one move. 

I gasped at how quick he was and how close our faces were.

I stared at him with wide eyes, my heart pounding against my chest like a tattoo.

The sparks flew between us till they no longer tingled but burned with delicious heat.

Kyle’s eyes were dark as a midnight sky and the room became tense with a suffocating scent of mixed emotions but the one that stood out the most was lust and arousal. 

The pup whined and trotted out of the room with his head low and tail between his legs.

I should be scared right now but my wolf was practically bouncing up and down screaming ‘MATE’ in my head till it made my ears ring.

My body was too weak to use any commonsense at the minute.

“What is this?” he hisses huskily breathing hard.

His wine scented breath washed over my face and my eye practically rolled in the back of my head.

“I-I d-don't...” I didn’t know what to say.

He tilted his head and pressed closer to me till I was laying back up against the couch armrest with his heaver muscular body over mine.

We were pressed together in place that had me leaking.

“K-Kyle,” I whimpered.

His head dipped down into my neck and his nose caressed the sensitive skin there.

I heard him inhale loudly taking in my scent and I thought I might rip the shirt from his back right then.

He was unconsciously memorizing my scent.

His hand raked though my hair gripping it hard to yank my head back to give him more access.

I whined but complied, he may not know it but he was considerably stronger than me and I didn’t want to wake up any of those sleeping dominant traits right now.

His chest rumbled with a low sexy growl, his napping wolf was coming to the surface now and from the wagging of my own wolf’s tail he couldn’t wait.

“Damn you smell so good,” Kyle groaned nipping at my neck.

I bucked wantonly against him thrashing from the crazy feeling he was giving me.

This was so wrong... but so right.

Again he yanked at my hair and I yelped which only made him moan in pleasure.

Then I felt something wet and warm run up from the collar of my shirt to my ear.

“Ahh,” I moaned withering under him from the sparks his tongue made on my heated skin.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

‘Yes you should,’ my wolf growled and whimpered in delight.

My fingers stroked down his well-defined chest and I dug my nails in when he went to lick me again.

“I want to pound the fuck out of you right now,” he growled in my ear he was nibbling on.

'Oh God... I have to get out of here.'

He was moving his head closer to my face and I knew that he was planning on kissing me.

I felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on me.

'Matthew... I couldn’t do this to him.'

He didn’t deserve this and with that though I found the strength... not much mind you... and pushed Kyle off, the best I could.

“We have to stop this,” I gasped rushing out from under his hot weight and onto the floor.

Kyle growled deeply from the couch, his eyes dark with lust and his wolf fighting to get out and to mate with me.

I gulped jumping to my feet before I lost my never and ran down the hall to my bedroom and closed the door locking it swiftly behind me.

I sank to the floor gasping for breath... damn I can still smell his arousal from here.

With a heavy heart I rested my head back against the door and sighed.

Here I was running from something I always wanted... my mate,,, only to have to run away because none of it was true.

It was kind of bitter sweet.

I finally had him all to myself but it really isn’t him. 

The only real thing that was stopping me was the question I kept asking myself.

‘If he suddenly remembered everything, would he still feel this way or would he just runaway again?’

[applcrumbl]

pickled onion divorce papers.

Pairings: Ex! Dilf!Eddie Munson x F!Reader Warnings: Smut under the cut, 18+ Minors DNI, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, lemme know what ive missed! Author’s Note: okay i haven’t written smut in a long time, and ye i don’t get the title either i just liked it

Summary: Your ex husband is desperate to reconnect at your son’s 7th birthday.

Your son turned 7. A parade of young children flooded your small backyard on a bright summer's day in June, each excited to celebrate on the expensive bounce house you’d rented. Blown a good chunk of your savings on it. Some cautious parents hovered around the rainbow entrance, while most sat on lawn chairs, soaking up some rays themselves. You sat out another tray of assorted goodies on your kitchen island - a stack of napkins ready to be used by sticky hands and grubby faces. Truthfully, Oscar’s parties had been average at best, in the past. But this year you were determined to stick it to your ex-husband. Of course, you wanted the best for your son, as any mother would. But, there was no denying the excitement that escaped when thinking about how you’d remain the favourite parent for a little while longer.

“You did a good job,” Eddie said, leaning on the frame of the patio doors. A half-empty bottle of something in his hand, “Oscar is loving it”

‘No thanks to you’ You thought but bit your tongue instead. “Yeah, it’s been a tough time for him, he deserves it”

“And you?” 

Your ex-husband was insufferable when he got like this. He could read you like a book, but never when it counted. Which was part of the reason why you split in the first place.

“I think you know how I feel Edward-”

“Wow, Edward, huh” he laughed, “I see how it is,”

“Not today,” you warned. Fully aware of what was coming next. 

He wanted to talk about it. He wanted to talk about the divorce papers that had appeared through the letterbox of his uncle’s trailer a few days earlier. Where he had been staying since December when you split. He wanted to talk about how you were feeling. He wanted to talk to you, and only you. Just once.

“Then when?” He huffed, moving from his position and to your side of the island counter. The same long fluffy hair, even though it was wildly out of fashion now.

“When there's a solicitor present”

You swung the cabinet door open, nearly missing the gorgeous face of your ex-husband. Pulling a jar of pickled onions from somewhere up back. They were bound to be eaten by someone.

“C’mon, this can seriously be what you want Y/N” Eddie tried, watching as you struggled to open the tight jar.

“What I want is to enjoy our son’s birthday without another argument,” You reply, breathing out slowly as Eddie takes the jar from your hand and opens it with ease, “I had that.”

He smiles softly, “I know you did”

The conversation was dropped as 25 hungry little monsters crowded your kitchen, ravenous for chocolate and crisps. One of the mothers begged her twins to have something more substantial than a handful of party rings. Oscar - the absolute double of his father stood away from the group. Mouth full of cocktail sausage and big brown baby cow eyes.

In the commotion, Eddie had found himself next to you, serving up paper plates of various finger foods. You didn’t notice as his hands brushed your hips as he passed. It was such a natural thing so long ago. His grip tightened as the kitchen emptied again.

“I’ve missed this,” he confessed, whispering, unable to move from his spot.

A shaky breath, “Eddie, you’re only making this harder than it needs to be”

“Please don’t make me sign them,” he practically begged, lips pressed to the back of your hair. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew exactly what was splayed on it. “We can make this work, Y/N. I know we can.”

It was second nature for you to say no in this situation. It had happened enough times in the several months since your initial separation. And it was much easier to explain to Oscar that ‘mommy and daddy are never getting back together’ than it was to tell a 7-year-old that ‘mommy and daddy just aren’t quite sure’. Pretending for the sake of your son just wasn’t working anymore, and so quitting seemed like the easiest option.

It wasn't.

But if you were being honest with yourself. You wished you'd struggled through it, because anything would be better than being without him. You wanted the long nights of arguing, or the days without seeing each other because without them you were miserable. 

Minutes passed as you finally rest your head back on Eddie’s shoulder. He could practically see the contemplation in your mind, but he was scared of saying anything. Desperate to keep you in his arms a moment longer.

“We can’t tell him until we know for certain”

Your voice was just above a whisper but he heard you clear as day. His hand in yours in one swift movement as he pulled you off to a quiet room of your once family home. All thoughts of the party downstairs were gone as Eddie kissed you passionately. Months of built-up pining revealed themselves as the kiss deepened. Strong hands guided your back to the wall, careful not to be too loud.

Eddie practically moaned into your mouth as he stripped you down. Only breaking his lips from yours to trail them down to your lower stomach. “I still remember the way you taste,” He breathed as your fingers tangled in his hair. “And I never wanna forget”

His mouth attached to your clit immediately, knowing exactly where to go, and what he wanted to do. Eddie had dreamed of this for so long, that he was going to savour every moment. A skilled tongue delved through your folds. Licking a strong swipe up your slit. You shuddered at the contact, it had been too long since you’d been touched like this. Since he’d touched you like this. And it was like heaven. Rounded nose bumbled your sensitive clit as you wiggled in Eddie’s grasp, lean arms wrapping around thick thighs as he pinned you harder to the bed. Tongue exploring further down, closer to your asshole. “Oh god,” he grunts, relishing in the ecstasy he is giving you. His own hips rut against the edge of your bed, desperate to alleviate the pressure in his own underwear.

Soft lips attach once more on your clit, sucking gently as you felt your peak rising. “Eds, Wait I’m gonna-”

Words fell on empty ears as Eddie dove in harder. There may have been a buffet of sweet treats long enough to feed an army downstairs, but Eddie knew what he’d rather be eating. Your legs shook as you grew close, pressure building in your most sensitive spot, and Eddie could tell.

A voice called your name from down the hall, but the intonated sound mixed with that of your lover above you. You hadn’t heard it fully until much too late.

“Y/N do you want to do the cake? Liam’s mom says they need to leave soo- Oh my god”

Mortified, you pull the covers over yourself, unable to speak, husband still between your legs. Robin stood glued to the spot. Hand stuck to the door handle.

“Hello? We’re in the middle of something” Eddie states, head emerging from the blanket you’d thrown over him. A shit-eating grin peeking through his mouth, wet with your slick.

Your eyes blow wide as you apologise profusely, searching the room for your lost underwear and promising Robin you would be down as soon as possible. Shutting the door, you locate the skimpy lace in the back pocket of your lover.

You reach for them as Eddie turns, “Nuh-uh, I’m not finished with you,” he teases. Hands wandering down your sides, taking temporary residence in the dips of your hips. You attempt to wiggle out of his grasp, hands chasing his backside for your panties.

“Eddie, I am mortified. We gotta get back down there.” You lecture, hands coming to rest on his naked torso. When he took his shirt off? You weren't sure. But you didn’t mind anyhow, absent-mindedly tracing your fingers over the outline of the spider tattoo near his collarbone. “Hand em over” you almost begged.

Eddie hesitated, he wanted to follow your every word, he wanted to go downstairs hand in hand, or exchange flirty glances from across the garden. But he wanted to take you first. “Please?”  you tried again. But it didn’t work as Eddie had you pinned to the mattress in one fell swoop, kissing up and down your neck and chest.

“Normally I would say yes, be a good husband” He offered, “But baby, if not now. I know this will never happen again”

 Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I have wanted this for so long, Y/N. and I’m not even just talking about the sex.” Eddie sighs, “I want the long nights and the arguments that never seem to end. I want to tuck Ozzy in together, not just see him every other weekend. I want to sit and have family dinners in front of the TV. I want the mundane chores. I want things to go back to as they were” 

“Things won’t go back to as they were Eddie,”

“I don't care, I just want you back” He whispers, “I need you to be my Mrs. Munson again.”

And then he had you. Lips colliding together in a passionate kiss. It was messy, and by far not the best kiss you’d ever had. But it mattered nonetheless, desperation oozing from your husband, and your lips worked in tandem. Wandering hands found themselves pulling at the loops of Eddie’s jeans, “Take these off,” you murmur, “We need to be quick”

The truth was that Eddie didn’t want to be quick. He wanted to take his time with you and savour every second. He wanted to bed you for hours as you screamed his name. Like you used to. He wanted to cum inside you again and again, and have you lick the substance from his fingers. He wanted to thrust into you like this for the rest of your lives. Alternating paces, slow and then fast, edging himself into lasting for hours. 

But the truth also was that he finished in 2 minutes. Not quite used to having you in his arms again. Hot ropes of white seed plant themselves inside you without a condom, as you muffled your own screams of pleasure into his shoulder. The long-haired man lay sweaty and on top of you. Almost embarrassed by how short it was, but he didn't care. You shoved him off gently, legs aching from being pounded into. “I still love you, Eddie” you confessed. “I want this to work.”

“It will baby,  I’ll make sure of it.”

[whumpasaurus101]

*takes u out of my pocket*

my most talented son!! 🥰🥰💖

do you have any shock collar content for asher 👀

EEEEEE *INTENSE HAPPY FLAPPY HANDSSSSSS*

Okay ik ive been texting you loads abt how much i hate this and what not BUT ONCE AGAIN, IM SO GRRRRR CAUSE I WISH I DID A BETTER JOB IM SORRY- i acc havent really written much shock collar so i feel like maybe i can write it a lot better HUIKJDHKDH but someday i wanna do party time part 2 and have more shock collar content in that >:3

masterlist

CW: shock collar / cursing / 'mutt' used as a name

---

“Let me go!!!!” Asher growled, fighting off the men who were holding him. They shoved him onto the floor in front of Antonio’s desk, who stood from his seat, taking off his glasses with a heavy breath, “Boys?”

“Sorry for disturbing you boss,” One of the workers sighed, almost out of breath from how much effort it took holding back Asher, “But this little shit was trying to cause trouble with a newbie.” The worker emphasized his sentence, kicking Asher hard in the ribs.

Antonio had run this boxing gym for a while now. He has dealt with all kinds of fighters. The broken, scared, defiant, confident, weak, strong, you name it. But Asher? Asher, quite frankly, made Antonio want to quite frankly beat the ever loving shit out of him. Antonio sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before nodding, “Leave it with me, thank you boys.” And with that, the group of trainers walked back to the training gym, out of Antonio’s office.

“I didn't do shit,” Asher growled, rubbing his side while practically pouting like a child. “I highly doubt that. I can always pull up the CCTV security footage if you’d like.” Asher froze and shook his head quickly, only making Antonio chuckle, bending over slightly and tilting Asher’s head up by a finger under his chin, “You never learn, do you?”

Asher growled, ripping his face away from Antonio, “Don't fucking touch m-” He was quickly cut off as Antonio grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head so he was face to face with Antonio, “Listen here, you little shit. I am sick and tired of putting up with your bullshit every fucking day-” 

“…technically it's not e-every d-”

“Silence.” Asher was backhanded hard and a small whimper escaped his lips before he tried to cover it up with a growl, but just Antonio chuckled, walking over to his desk and opening a drawer, “Do you remember that day I used the taser on you?” 

Asher instantly paled, gulping and shifting anxiously, “Oh o-of course. How could I ever forget such a wonderful day. You know what, you and I have the most amazing time tog-”

*click* 

Asher immediately looked up to Antonio, “Wha-what the fuck-” His hands flew up to his neck, desperately trying to pull at whatever had been latched around his neck. “Hm, what’s the matter, little pup?” Asher growled, rushing up to his feet as he clenched his fists, “Don't you dare call me that.”  

Antonio smirked and chuckled, “Ohhhh, you will want to watch your mouth from now on.” Asher’s eyes turned cold and he stepped right up to Antonio’s face, jutting out his chin in defiance, “And why’s that?” 

Antonio’s eyes practically sparkled as he took out a controller, simply pressing a button and watching the show happen before him. 

Asher’s eyes went wide as his whole body seized up and with a cry as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. His arms flew up to his neck, desperately pulling at the shock collar as much as he could, “SH-SH’T- Tu-turn ‘t o-o-’ff-ff-” His whole torso and back seized up, twitching and beginning to shake. Antonio chuckled, bending down to his hunkers and brushing a hair away from Asher’s face, “Beg me, dear.” 

Asher growled, snarling as he grit his teeth, “Like sh-sh-i-it I will.” Antonio smirked, “Suit yourself,” And with that, Antonio stood up and sat at his desk, starting to fill in paper work he had been procrastinating for weeks. 

Asher slammed his fist against the floor, trying to get Antonio’s attention. His body was on fire. His lungs felt as if lightning struck through them. “Th’s ‘s b-BULL,” He bellowed with another punch to the ground. Antonio just chuckled, spinning his pen with his finger absentmindedly, “You know what I want, Asher.” 

“Wh-wh’t you want, n-nah, bu-bu’ wha-whatchya ne-...nee-d is a li- FUCK- a li-fffff-fffe.” 

Antonio simply hummed, his fingers twisting up the dial to the control, smirking as a scream ripped from Asher’s throat. “I must admit, I’m impressed at your pain tolerance,” Antonio chuckled, “I mean, managing to keep that annoying act up while being shocked at nearly the highest setting. I'm… almost… surprised…to be honest!”

Asher’s body twitched with a grunt, “Th-th’nks alo-ot, asshole.” Antonio studied him for a moment more before switching off the collar, watching with a smirk as Asher’s back slumped to the floor, his body aching as he tried to catch his breath. Asher cursed under his breath as his body occasionally twitched, glossy eyes staring at the ceiling, “Ge-get it ‘ff…”

“I told you what I wanted, dear, and you haven't given that to me. So, shall we continue, or are you willing to beg?”

Asher clenched his jaw before bringing his eyes up to meet Antonio’s, “Bri-bring it, bitch.” Antonio scoffed, rolled his eyes before turning the dial full. Asher screamed  this time, his whole body completely seizing as his head hit the floor, heels digging into the carpet of the office, his back arching in pain, “Sh-sh’t, pl…”

“I'm sorry, speak up darling, I didn't quite hear you,” Antonio pressed, knowing how close Asher was to breaking. He watched as Asher’s face screwed up, what the fuck was he to do??? He wanted the pain to end more than anything but there was no way in fuck that he was about to beg to Antonio.

Suddenly the shock stopped as there was a knock on the door. Antonio slammed his fist against the desk, “What is it,” He growled, “Nobody is to come in while I’m work-”

“My sincere apologies.”

Asher froze at the familiar voice. Fucking Rodger. 

“Heard my boy was causing trouble.” 

Antonio scoffed, “When is he not?” That made Rodger chuckled, “Mind if I sit in?” Antonio gestured to the seat where Asher lay near, “Take a seat! I'm not letting Asher leave until he begs- but… you might wanna get comfy, god knows how long he’ll take.”

“Well, Asher, “ Rodger chuckled, delivering as hard of a kick as he could to Asher’s ribs. Asher groaned, his hand flying to clutch at his ribs with a groan, “F’ck o-o-’ff…” Rodger laughed, looking up at Antonio, “You really think he’s going to break???”

Antonio simply shrugged, “Worth a try though! Want a go?” Rodger quickly extended his hand, “Oh, you fucking bet.” The second the control was put into his hand, Rodger instantly turned the dial.

“FU-FUCK- Stopstop-st- SHIT- stop-” 

“Not the words I’m looking for, Ashy boi.”

Asher snarled, his top lip curling up, “D-dn’t call me tha-thah-” “I think that's the least of your worries right now,” Rodger scoffed, resting his feet up on top of Antonio’s desk, ignoring Antonio’s disapproving look. 

Asher’s eyes fluttered as his head suddenly felt dangerously light, “Sh-sh’t…” Antonio gulped, his eyes snapping over to Rodger, “He-hey uh, take it easy on him, he looks like he’s about to pass out.” Rodger simply waved his hand dismissively, “Oh please, he’s just being a dramatic little shit.”

“Mmhnn-” Was all Asher managed before his eyes rolled up to his head, and his body fell still. Silence. 

“Dramatic?”

“I can hear you smirking.”

“You know, you can always leave the mutt with me for a week or two, I’d bet I could have him broken in that amount of time.”

Rodger laughed, shaking his head, “Funny. Hilarious. But I might take you up on that offer, I could do with a break from the idiot.”

“Sounds like a deal, you just hit me up and I’ll be there.”

“Deal. Now, help me carry him to the car, will ya?”

---

THANKIE SM FOR READINGGGGG 💜💜💜

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @hold-back-on-the-comfort @tears-and-lilies @heathenwhump @whumpkinpie @happy-little-sadist @shywhumpauthor @cursedscribbles @whump-queen

[benjaminthewolf]

Cellular Machinery (BF pred, Hex prey)

Ayo @starlightgirl242 come get yo juice!

****

The open, emerald grasses living within the sun-doused summer fields were gently swished about all by the silent, delicate breeze whilst the two revered rappers known only as BF and GF lay peacefully and in compounding anticipation upon the classic, red and white checkered picnic blanket that protected both themselves, but perhaps more importantly, their food, from the naturally filth-laiden dirt and ground underneath them. The both of them were yet to take even a single bite out of any of their previously laid-out meals, and this was for good reason, as they were, indeed, still waiting. Waiting for what, you may ask? Waiting for someone, of course, as the two of them always tended to be. This particular someone was a person they had first met nearby. BF swiftly noted towards the small, yet well-kept and now, practically immortalized basketball court laying a little ways into the distance, with a soft, acknowledging nod. He would be here any moment, the both of them knew it. And though the both of the rappers were entirely aware that this person was unable to eat human food, ultimately, that did not matter at all, as what they were looking for that day was not anything close to an experience pertaining to the food, but rather, an experience pertaining to the main man himself, the tall and slim basketball robot known far and wide by-

“HEX!”

“THAT’S RIGHT! IT’S ME!” The friendly, enthusiastic robot immediately called back as he placed a robotic claw hand against his chest with a chuckle, in response to the two rappers’ exclamation.

Hex was wearing the same ol’ set consisting of some basketball shorts and a jersey, just as the day they first met. He was currently carrying with him some sort of bag, however, one that you would use for carrying the groceries out to the car, as he made his way closer to the blanket.

“Don’t worry, it's biodegradable!” Hex rushed to quell his friends’ fears as he sat himself down onto the soft, felted rectangle of thread. “Anyway, are ya ready for me to reveal this here bag’s mysterious little secret?”

BF swiftly sat up in curiosity and amusement. “Ooooo, so did you like, take some time and try to make something for the occasion?” He casually asked his robotic buddy.

Hex proceeded to do the robot equivalent of blushing as he awkwardly placed a hand behind his head. “Err…no. Us robots have no need to learn how to cook, we don't even have kitchens in our homes. I just, kinda, grabbed it from the store.”

“Oh.” BF thus replied. “Ah either way, I’m sure ya must’ve picked out something delicious for us, so why don’t ya go ahead and lay it on us?”

“Caaaaaan do, BF!” Hex gleefully perked back up upon the teal haired man’s prompting, before beginning to extend a robotic arm into the depths of the bag. “...aaaaaand the enigmatic contents of the bag are revealed to beeeeeeee…………..”

Both BF and GF were at the edge of their metaphorical seats as Hex continued to draw out the “be”.

“.....eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…..”

BF did an excited pumping motion with his arms and clenched hands, whilst excitedly shaking just a little.

“...eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……”

GF would soon join in afterwards, her eyes widening intensely like a mouse lemur whilst she subconsciously held her breath.

“..EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-BANANA BREAD!”

GF just couldn’t help but let out a little “WOOHOO” instantaneously after the reveal, causing her beloved BF to carefully place a hand upon her shoulder in order to get her to calm down. “...sorry…” she ended up bashfully apologizing.

“Oh no apologies necessary, GF!” Hex calmly responded as he gracefully lowered the store bought container of banana bread onto the blanket, before subsequently popping off the lid.

BF just could not help but start to instinctively drool at the sight of the wonderfully baked loaf of bread, even if it was, indeed, store bought. He began to rub his hands together in his apprehension as he let out a preparatory “Oh yeah…”. Taking hold of his paper plate and scooting a little ways towards the banana bread, the ravenous, eager man proceeded to give a slight lick across his lips with his tongue, before yet another complimentary action almost immediately forced him to pause. That being, of course, the instinctive, deep set gurgling that naturally emitted from his stomach area.

Positively turning red, BF went on to swiftly place both hands over the area, whilst promptly apologizing for the noise.

“*pfffft!* Oh, BF!” GF lightly chuckled whilst lightly slapping a palm against his back. “You don’t have to apologize for that!”

“Hehe…I uh…erm…yeah, yeah I’m sorry…I mean…I’m…not…nevermind.”

Eventually turning their heads so they may once again face, Hex, BF narrowed his brow. “Uh…Hex buddy…you…you alright over there?”

The normally sociable, perky robot seemed to have oddly turned more inwards for the moment, presumably since he appeared to be deeply locked within his thoughts for whatever suddenly prompted reason. BF wasn’t exactly keen on interrupting him at this point, and was just planning to turn his face back around to face GF and thus converse with her for a little while, before Hex suddenly gave a “Hmm?”, prompting both of his biological buddies to once again turn their attention towards him.

“UH, OH, OH, RIGHT, YEAH UH…I WAS JUST…” Hex frantically began attempting to explain.

“Y-you don’t need to rush trying to tell us, Hex…” GF nervously replied before Hex finally appeared to get back a grasp on his words.

“I was just thinking…uh…that is, I was just thinking about how all your organs and stuff work, like, I know how it works superficially, but it's still just so fascinating to me, ya know? How all those individual little cells come together to work as one, and how they each have their specialized little jobs, and they get all their instructions from a central nervous system, the brain and all that…it’s…its all so similar to how us robots work, except, we get our fuel, or, power or whatever differently, and…that’s why I was so intrigued by that sound. Ya get it?”

Taking a glance at each other before turning back to Hex in order to give him simultaneous nods of understanding paired with friendly smiles of consolidation, BF and GF gave some soft, lighthearted chuckles.

“Oh, of course, Hex!” BF warmly responded. “We definitely get it, don’t worry!”

“Ya gotta remember, too…” GF began to add on. “I’m technically not a human either, I’m a demon, and I, too, have certainly taken an… interest in… exploring the human body with BF.”

Letting out a rather irritated groan at his GF’s dumb joke and slapping a hand upon his forehead, BF eventually managed to glance back over towards Hex, who appeared to be completely oblivious to the situation.

“Wh…what does that mea-” he began to hesitantly ask before BF shut him up.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Well…no I was just…”

“YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW!”

Shrugging his shoulders in confusion, Hex just simply accepted BF’s warning and instead changed the subject back to the original topic at hand.

“...anyway…I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be food…like what the whole journey would be from its perspective. Like, ya get to see what goes on inside those mystery chambers of flesh, ya see?”

There proceeded to be a slight pause for a moment, where Hex merely dwelled inside his thoughts for a while, leaving BF with enough time as a result to give GF a little flick on the arm if only to tell her “not funny”. Eventually however, the stillness was all but destined to be broken, though not by any sort of subtle means at all. No. Instead, what brought the three picnickers out of their previous state of silence was an instantaneous, boisterous cry of the two, simple words that were:

“I’VE GOT IT!”

Zapping straight out of their previous mullings over the joke, BF and GF promptly faced Hex in their startledness, just in enough time to watch him therefore murmur out a sentence that was along the lines of: “Just gotta activate this here, and…” before a slight clanging and whirring of the robot’s mechanical parts began to flood the air. Neither BF nor GF had even a chance to ask what was going on, before Hex had shrunken himself down. All the way down to about the size of a blueberry, in fact.

“I KNEW THAT THE SHRINKING MODE OPTION WAS GONNA COME IN HANDY ONE DAY!” Hex ecstatically called out whilst victoriously pumping his hands in the air, presumably over the fact that the previously mentioned “shrinking mode option” had worked. Casually glancing up at his two biological friends above, Hex was almost immediately forced to calm his enthusiasm upon taking notice of the shared, stagnant gazes of equal parts shock and confusion radiating off the faces of BF and GF. At first, he was a little concerned, before the realization finally hit him.

“Oh…yeah, that’s right.” he awkwardly stammered out. “Uh, yeah I can do this. Heh.”

It was still going to take a considerable amount of time before the two relative giants were finally able to process all they had just learned, however, as Hex was made well aware just a couple of seconds later, causing him to eventually, in the middle of the wait, give out yet another little “Heh.” with just a little hint of tiny, pixelated sweat dripping down his TV screen face as he did so.

After about a minute, however, BF finally managed to somewhat regain his bearings, and promptly shook off his previous state of being with a sputter before speaking as such.

“Blueeegh…man…” he incomprehensibly stammered out at first. “Ok, first of all, please don’t just instantly knowledge drop us like that ever again.”

“Hahaha…y-yeah…yeah I won’t. I won’t, I’m sorry.” Hex uncomfortably managed to respond.

BF gave a nod. “Alright. Great.” He proceeded to simply take in and out a deep breath while prepping himself for what he wanted to say next. “NOW…” he suddenly called out, before he momentarily cut off his own words once again. “Now…now that we have that out of the way…” BF promptly moved the process of conversation forwards as he picked up his paper plate with one hand and take hold of a slice of banana bread with the other as he spoke.

“...do ya still want to pretend you’re my food?”

“YES!” Hex similarly perked up in just under a single instant flat whilst taking a comedically over exaggerated leap forwards onto the blanket.

Sensing his robot friend's current, rather unabated enthusiasm, BF proceeded to carefully set down his paper plate somewhat in front of Hex, so he may be able to climb up onto it and make his way onto the banana bread as such. Silently watching over his currently miniaturized buddy as this happened, BF would eventually lift the relatively light paper plate back up to his face with a reassuring grin whilst Hex upon the banana bread gave a little thumbs-up symbol via his TV screen, confirming he was ready.

Thus, with nothing more than a confident, narrowed gaze bearing down onto his miniscule, mechanical main man Hex, BF finally unveiled his maw.

Hex’s pixelated eyes began to grow wider as he stared in fixation upon the slimy, heated, pink chamber that lay before him in all of its previously (by himself, anyway), unexplored glory. Hex was able to tell implicitly via his motion sensors that he was being lifted up upon the banana bread, presumably by BF himself. Soon thereafter, of course, he began to be advanced incrementally all the way inside of the thing, its comforting warm aura practically dousing the robot’s heat sensors as he suddenly managed to shake himself out of his trance, in order to consciously consider the anatomy laden before him.

Of course, Hex knew the majority of the constituent parts by name. Tongue, gums, teeth, heck he could even prompt himself to go further and specify incisor teeth vs molars if he wished, but that was not really what was interesting to him right now. Those parts of the body he was already well familiar with, and it was more so the additional, esoteric, and niche aspects of the wonderful, fleshy cave that he wished to learn more about, as well as gain a level of intimate experiential knowledge that no amount of book-study could ever afford a person.

Thus, the singular second before BF finally laid down the banana bread onto his tongue, which would of course prohibit him from being able to speak clearly, Hex managed to pipe up, so he may get in one question before the opportunity had passed.

“Hey BF…” he casually opened up his statement. “What’s the name of that little, dangly thing hanging at the back of your throat?”

“Hmm?” BF was naturally forced to pause. “Oh. It's called the uvula!”

“The uvula. Huh…” Hex softly repeated back. “...and…what is this…uvula…’s function?”

“Uh……” BF then began trailing off. “...I…that one I don’t know. I think uh-”

“According to Google, its main purpose is to secrete saliva, but I don’t remember any major salivary glands being located at that spot…” GF suddenly butted in whilst gazing curiously at her phone.

“There’s plenty of microscopic salivary glands located all over the mouth! I’m sure the uvula must have some, too!” BF added on.

“Well…yeah…” GF began to reply. “...but…then wouldn’t that make any internal tissue of the mouth’s job to be to secrete saliva?”

“...maybe?”

“It also says here that when you swallow, the uvula moves backwards and prevents food or drink from going up into your nose.”

“Ah…okay, now that makes sense.” BF managed to conclude. “ANYWAY-”

Hex, having become rather engrossed in the conversation, was taken by considerable surprise when said conversation finally stopped, thus leaving BF with nothing left to do other than place the banana bread slice down onto his tongue, carefully take his fingers out of his mouth, and finally, snap shut his jaws, resulting in an echo which caused the shrunken Hex, having been programed with human instincts to somewhat jump at the sound.

BF proceeded to keep his lips closed as he carefully lifted his jaws and maneuvered the banana bread over towards his teeth using his tongue, making absolutely sure he wasn’t biting down on anything hard as he did so. Hex was observing carefully as all of this happened, taking extensive mental notes on the process and tracking each minute movement of both the lower mandible and the tongue, whilst the two arrays of teeth separated for the first time after the very first bite had been taken. BF went on to give Hex a few moments to observe the aftermath of said bite, before bringing down his teeth once again. Hex was now able, as a result of all that lead up to this, to witness full-force the human body’s process of chewing inside the maw.

BF’s grinding teeth were beginning to gnash and chomp the formerly recognizable form of the banana bread into a mushy globular paste of food that then proceeded to be flung onto the middle of the tongue, where it was then to be swished around and wetted by the ever-prevalent saliva as more and more of the banana bread coalesced into this doughy , nutritious paste of indeterminate form and size. Hex, in between all this, remained upon the last piece of the stuff that was yet to be touched by the teeth, and as transfixed as the robotic man was by all of this, chewing, he still knew quite well that he had to get off of the bread eventually, and thus managed to slip himself down onto the sticky, gooey mess that BF was now carefully maneuvering towards the back of his tongue whilst the final piece of the bread was finally mulched down into a pulp.

Hex then turned his attention onto the now gaping, wide-open entrance to the throat area below. Currently, for the moment being, there were two passageways he could see, and as he knew already that humans had their windpipes situated right next to their esophaguses, this was no real surprise. Eventually however, as the sloping, slick back of the tongue caused the glob of food that Hex was currently on to slip deeper and deeper into the gullet area, the miniature, metal robot would thus come to a new discovery, that being, the way that the human body avoided choking literally every time it swallowed was that a tiny flap of skin that Hex wasn’t sure the name of, nor was he really going to ask at this point, safely covered up the windpipe, so that the food could go down the right tube. Hex knew the system wasn’t failproof of course, given he had the instructions to perform the heimlich maniver stashed away within his memory, but still, at the very least, it was something, rather than nothing.

Nonetheless, once Hex had gotten finished musing over this new discovery, he almost immediately made yet another new discovery. That being, of course, the discovery of: “Oh yeah, I’m inside the esophagus right now!”

Therefore turning his attention onto the slippery, pink-ish walls all around him, Hex was thus able to understand how the human body ensured that swallowed food stayed all the way down. The tiny, currently fixated robot observed in wonder the rhythmic squelching motions of the esophagus as it worked to squelch down its recent meal. Hex nodded his head in understanding as he stored away this information into his electronic memory storage, now focusing his attention downwards, wondering just how long, exactly, it would take before he ended up inside of BF’s stomach.

Luckily for Hex, however, he was still able to make a couple of new discoveries whilst still inside the esophagus. BF and GF on the outside could tell that at this point, Hex had disappeared behind the former’s collarbone. This meant that soon, the larger man’s heartbeat would become audible. Thus, sure enough, Hex was soon able to pick up the constant, pulsing echoes resonating around the area deep inside of the chest. He of course already knew what was making this sound, he just found it curious he was able to hear it at all.

Finally, though, it wouldn’t just be BF’s heart beat that Hex was able to detect. Again, the, at this point, rather excited, blueberry-sized robot did indeed know what those sounds were, and where, exactly, they were coming from. Those gurgles and rumbles just could not be mistaken. Though he was limited in his movement by the tightened, constricting walls against the esophagus, Hex was still jittering uncontrollably from the absolute overload of anticipation that was coursing its way through his system at the moment.

Upon long, long last, however, Hex was able to take note of what is formally known as the lower esophageal sphincter, though he obviously had no way of knowing that. Barely even able to control his excitement at this point, Hex’s pixel smile began to grow tenfold. Before, in due course, his head was squelched through, thus giving ample opportunity for his body to follow suit.

Hex then proceeded to plunge all the way deep down inside the growling, grumbling chamber of the stomach, along with all of the banana bread of course. Sticking a splash landing inside of the messy organ, Hex was soon to be splattered with a doughy mash of banana bread that forced him to stumble slightly backwards within the liquids as he rapidly shook the stuff off.

Still in the process of recovering from the initial plunge, Hex somehow managed to tread all the way over to one of the stomach’s walls, at which point the slight shifting motion caught his attention. Hex turned to face the slimy wall. And then, it finally hit him.

“I-...here I am…I am…here!” he only somewhat sensibly muttered out as he began to take a gander around him.

It was at this point that BF on the outside felt it was a good time to attempt to communicate with his robot friend once more.

“You doin’ alright in there, Hex?” he called all the way down with his head tilted downwards towards his guts.

“Huh?” Hex suddenly replied in confusion. “OH, RIGHT! Uh…yeah I’m doing…oh wow this is…uh…you think you can just…let me take this all in, y’know?” he managed to stammer out despite his awe.

BF gave a swift nod. “No problem, buddy! I’ll just leave you to the experience! Don’t wanna be breakin’ the immersion after all!”

Seconds after he wrapped up his sentence, however, BF felt a hand upon his shoulder. Naturally, he presumed it to be that of GF. BF cocked his head to the side in confusion from just what she was trying to do, whilst the mentioned beloved girl gazed warmly into his eyes. Giving the man a cheek stroke as she did, GF thus caused BF’s body to perform an instant blush. The rather love-jittery, teal haired man thought he understood from this just what GF wanted to do and began to adjust his body for it as such. Placing his hands onto the quilted ground with a chuckle, GF proceeded to reach out with her arms, before she finally placed them both onto BF’s stomach. Rubbing around the area gently and silently, the famed and revered rapping couple lay comfortably and effortlessly within their loving, soft bind; whilst their tiny, bite-sized little robot buddy on the inside continuously soaked up the information that had been presented to him upon his initial arrival.

The first thing Hex had noticed was indeed the role of the walls, and how they endlessly churned and shifted in order to mash up the contents that lay in liquid form all around it. Hex was able to draw a mechanical comparison in terms of functionality to that of a blender, although no blender that Hex was aware of also possessed the capability to utterly liquify its contents into a sloshable soup, and in that end, the stomach appeared to pull ahead. Hex gazed on with astonishment as the goopy remains of the banana bread that he had indeed been swallowed with proceeded to be sizzled on around inside of the organ, mixed and mashed up within the messy conglomerate of food as it dissolved down into a liquid of its constituent nutrient parts. Hex knew that they would later on be soaked up inside of the small intestine, but for now they needed to get into small enough parts where said soaking was possible.

Hex could not help but stay completely engrossed. It was all just so fascinating! There was just so much to see! Hex had zero clue just how long he spent there in that position, simply lying against the stomach walls and staring. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been a full hour. All that Hex knew in this moment, no, in this experience, was that he was, indeed, learning. And to Hex in that process, that fixated state of mind, that was good enough for him.

[biderboy]

I Want You || J. P.

A/N - hapy valentine’s day !!! here’s a james fic <4

-

“oi potter!” you yell, jogging to catch up with the messy haired boy.

“l/n! what’s up? thought you and moony had detention?” he smirked, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“arsehole, we got detention because of you, you know.” you stuck your tongue out, pushing the older boy off you, not being able to handle the close proximity.

it’s not that you didn’t love having james arm pressed up again you, it’s that you loved it a bit too much.

you knew logically it would never go anywhere, your sill little crush. not with the heart eyes james sent to evans every five minutes, surely he wouldn’t want you. you’re just another marauder, nothing truly special.

you sighed, your mood now dropping, and james picked up on it.

“is something bothering you love?” there it was, his stupid habit of calling all of his friends pet names, making your heart race and your cheeks flush.

“fine prongs, just a bit tired.” lies, lies and more lies.

“alright, let’s head back up to the dorms, i’m sure you can force pads to take a nap with you.” he laughed, and time almost froze. his laugh had to be your favorite thing about him, the way he threw his head back, his eyes scrunched up, and his entire face practically lit up.

damn, you’ve really got to get this thing under control.

despite your bad mood, you managed to smile at evans and marlene when you saw them in the common room.

nodding politely, waving a small wave, a few more steps and you’d be on your way to pads dorm and can quietly sleep off this feeling.

“potter!” bloody hell.

“sup evans? finally decided to agree to that date?” he winked, and no matter how good he looked, you couldn’t find it in you to acknowledge him.

you didn’t even bother to hear evans reaction, you simply walked off. normally, you’d smile and chat, or atleast tell the two goodbye, but it felt like you were about to scream, or cry, or maybe both, if you stuck around for another minute.

of course james would ask her out, of course she’d eventually say yes, how could she not? it’s james bloody potter, you’d be pretty stupid saying no to him.

you stalked angrily into the dorm, flopping face first onto sirius’ bed, not even bothering to look and see if peter or remus was there.

sirius moved from where he was on the bed, and a hand gently found itself in your hair,

“y/n? are you alright?” and you didn’t really have it in you to lie anymore, you looked up at him, tears in your eyes that you were too stubborn to let fall, and opened your mouth,

“y/n! what happened? you just walked off.” yeah, bloody perfect timing mate.

“nothing.” you grit out, pushing your head back into sirius’ blanket.

“oi, what did i do?” he sounded offended, good, be offended.

you sat up, finally facing the dark haired boy, looking him dead in the eye, judging by his surprised face, the tears in your eyes didn’t falter, and said

“don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

he eyes softened, a small smile coming to his face. you felt sirius move from behind you, but you weren’t sure if he left until you heard the door close.

“evans? no, you should know by now i’ll never go out with her.” he laughed, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“then why do you keep asking her?” crossing your arms over your chest, you were not pouting, by the way.

“it’s funny seeing her get annoyed with me,” he shrugged, “kinda like annoying you, but less fun”

you didn’t even have it in you to laugh, nor be offended. the stress and emotional toll of the day was heavily weighed on you now, you’d really appreciate it if james just left you to wallow.

“why so concerned about it anyways l/n?” he wiggled his eyes brows, which undoubtedly made him more attractive than it should have.

quite frankly you could blame it on potter being annoying, or the fact trhat you hadn’t eaten dinner yet, or even on the full moon that was coming up, but in reality the words just rushed out of your mouth, in a way you couldn’t control

“well you want to date her don’t you? you’ve been pining after her for so long you can’t see what’s right in bloody front of you.”

you didn’t have to look up to knwo that james froze, the way his breath hitched gave it away. you fucked up, oh god you fucked up so bad.

he knew, of course he knew. it was quite obvious. he’s going to hate you now, god he’s going to hat-

“y/n.” you heard him whisper, cutting off your anxious thought process, “look at me.”

no, you thought, it’s a bad iwa, he’s going to flat out reject you and you’re going to have to go cry to remus, again.

“y/n. darling, look at me please?” his voice was closer, softer, it made your insides flip in a way only james has ever made them.

you looked up meeting his brown eyes, there was a look in them, one yu coudlnt describe, ien you’ve never seen.

“you want to tell me what you meant? what’s right in front of me? ‘cause ill i’m seeing tis you darling” he’s got the half smirk on his face, he head tilted to the side in that joking manner he always had when teasing.

“bugger off.” you’ve had enough, standing up and walking towards the door, only for a hand to catch your wrist.

“y/n wait, i’m sorry. it’s not somethin to joke about is it?” spinning around, you shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“james it’s fine, really. i-“

“no, it’s not.”

“it is! you like lily and it’s fine alright? you guys are so good tog-“

“there’s no way in bloody hell you think i actually like evans.”

“i- what.” confused, slightly flustered at the fact his hand was still on your wrist, and his eyes were now staring into yours.

“bloody hell y/n, i want you.”

you managed a good few seconds of complete nonsense rolling off you tongue before a proper word even managed to come out,

“what?” james laughed, more so giggled, shaking his head slightly.

“i want you, darling. have wanted you since 5th year actually.” he says it so causally, like this wasn’t what you’ve been dreaming of for the past year.

you very well may be dreaming right now.

“this isn’t real, it’s a joke right? maybe a dream even.”

“oi, it’s not a dream” he pouted, “i really like you!” his nose scrunched, his pout becoming bigger if possible. he’s a child, really.

speechless, is a word that would describe why you simply stared at his face, not really processing the fact that james potter, THE james potter, confessed to you.

his hand felt warm on your wrist, and his smile seemed to be twice as bright, only flattering as another minute went by without you saying anything.

“er- did i..misread this?” he awkwardly let go, taking a step back, but no, no, you just got him, you weren’t letting him go that easily.

your hands quickly flew to his tie, pulling his back infront of you, he tripped over his own two feet, and got closer than what you expected.

“no, no! i like you too! i um, just can’t believe it’s real.” you mumbled, cheeks flaming red.

he chuckled, and suddenly a hand was on your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

next thing you knew, his lips were pressed against yours. warm, and real, and he tasted a bit like mint and chocolate.

before you had the chance to kiss back, he smiled, pulling away slightly

“believe it now darling?”

you rolled your eyes, “fuck you potter,” before pulling his lips back to yours, properly kissing the boy youd dreamed of for months on edge.

the kiss was everything you could have imagined and more, the way his hand gently cradled your neck, as the other found its rightful spot on your waist, drawing you closer. the way his lips felt so sweet agaisnt yours, you practically wanted to melt into his arms and never let go.

and when he pulled back again, his eyes looked as if they were filled with stars. his smiled gentle, soft, and everything that screamed james.

and even if this was a dream, you’re pretty happy with how it turned out.

[berryblissbby]

Fiercest; devoted;

Pairing: Princess!reader x Guard/Warrior! Hajime Iwaizumi

Word Count: 9,500

Warnings: Use of blades and knives

A/N: Sooo this is the longest thing I've ever posted on tumblr and one of the longest fics I've ever written. Ive only even written a handful of things to completion before so please be kind (⩾﹏⩽). I'm currently reading TOG and this story was born from me trying to process HOF so if you see some parallels just look away! This is fanfic we borrow, not steal. And finally I must say, must I write a plot? Can’t they just learn to tenderly love each other in the end? 

AND! AND! Here's the pinterest board i made for this fic, i'm so sorry that all the references are white people omg, pinterest has shit diversity.

Summary:

The moonlight won’t let you forget, the sunlight brightens the truth.

You are his princess, and he is your warrior. Raised together Hajime is your greatest source of comfort when he suddenly pulls away, igniting your temper and flaring animosity towards each other. Either under the light of the moon, or the rays of the sun, you’ll fight it out, just like always.

 You were the princess of an empire. Heir of the kingdom that was the pinnacle of learning, healing and safety for anyone who wished to stay there. Books, music, and art were all treasured, and culture was allowed to thrive and breathe. Your court was beloved, held strong by devotion and loyalty, “the strongest court in the world” the people said. You were loved as well, by your parents and their people. Adored, you were their future.

 Hajime was a lesser by his kingdom's terms. In a kingdom of magic wielders, he was unwanted nobility. So he was sent to you, to your kingdom, where compared to your human court, with a little magical blood in him, he would be strong. He was to be your guard, to keep you safe, and when you were ready to rule your bond would be unbreakable.  

You were nine and he was thirteen . Delightfully shy- to adults- you lacked true friends. Hiding behind your mother, father or nursemaid, you could be found with your nose in a book. Even at celebrations it was the same, unless you convinced your mother or father to dance with you, much to everyone’s joy. 

 But then you had Hajime, and even though you were scared, with red rung hands and shifting eyes, he danced with you. Uncoordinated and silly, gentle smiles turning to grins and grins to giggles, you landed on the floor in a heap of laughter. Everyone could tell- when you were with him your timidness melts, and is met with ferocious quips and laughter full of love- that you would grow to be a shining queen. You didn’t worry, your child princess self, because when you were sat on your heaviest burden, your own little throne, he would be behind you. With his chest puffed up, his daggers sharpened and shining. Already your fiercest warrior and most devoted protector. 

 -

 You grew together, his dark eyes were always watching you, blanketing you in warmth. When you learned  how to fight and hold a dagger correctly he practiced with you, until your coordination and form were perfect. When you were strong enough for a sword he was right there as well, much to the captain of the guards dismay. You practiced together, but he never let you win. It was infuriating, his determined expression and unrelenting jabs. But “it’s for your own good” and you knew you'd best him one day. 

 -

 He snuck into your room, when your chambers were too big, and the darknesses fingers too long. He stayed in the chair in the corner, and listened to you talk until your words slurred and you fell asleep. Your maids usually find him still there, curled up, in the morning.

 -

 He was right beside you when you learned how to ride a horse by yourself at ten years old, with shaky hands and gasping breaths. And when you fell off- the one and only time- he picked you right off the ground, dusted off your dress, and growled at the stable master. 

 He wiped the tears off your face as fast as they fell. Your little hands gripping the front of his shirt begging him not to leave.

 Hajime pulled you to his chest, shushing you again. It was awkward, just two little kids clinging to each other, one barely old enough to comfort the other. But you needed him nonetheless.

 He was right there the day you got it, hanging off the rails of the round pin, pumping his fist in triumph as you and your horse trotted in circles.

 Looking over, a grin breaking across your face,  you met his own grin. It sent shivers down your spine, blooming in your tummy. You could see it, with that feral grin on his face, you understood what type of man he would be. He truly was a warrior.

 -

 He stood behind you when you first attended state meetings with your father, against the wall with the other guards. You had been terrified. You hadn’t known, really, what they were talking about, and you had been scared that they would ask you questions you wouldn’t know the answer to. But Hajime was there, and that made your words a little more steady. 

 -

 He was eighteen and you fourteen, budding into adolescence, and it seemed to be everyone’s business. He was turning into a man and you couldn’t help but notice, not that you would ever speak of it.

 He was leading you horse, walking you around the gardens. He liked to pick and choose when you should be treated as a princess. With swords in your hands he tended to ignore it, but at times like these, you were an heiress and he was an indentured servant.

 “I don’t understand”

 “It’s a tragedy, it's supposed to make you sad!” You say. “It’s about the ‘what if’s’ and the yearning, you have to focus on the yearning.” You giggle at your words, as you drag out your syllables. 

 You were telling him about your latest book, and how it had left you heart broken for the two lovers. With bad timing, and greedy people stealing their chances at love, they could never be together. 

 You always told Hajime about your books, you couldn’t help talking about the ones that you couldn’t get out of your head. He was an amazing listener, and you appreciated him dearly for it. Even though his face would remain blank and his eyes would shift all around you, looking for threats, he would always pay attention.

 He scoffed. “ Well, what if I don’t care about yearning, what if they’re just stupid? The answer was right in front of them.” 

 “That’s not the point Hajime,” you pout.

 He scowls up at you, stopping your horse. 

 “What?” You can’t help but laugh at both of your dramatics.

 “Just don’t let me catch you doing anything dumb like that,” he doesn’t let you answer, starting your horse walking again. ¨Idiots.¨

 ¨Hajime!¨

 You appreciate him, in every sense, always protecting you, in body and soul.

 -

 He was twenty and you sixteen. Your temper was epic, it shook the stone walls and snapped as easily as the ribbons on your dresses. But your heart was just as easily broken. You were a slave to your emotions and you could feel it, festering in you. You would never let it show to the court, but your family knew, and so did Hajime. There was little left of the girl who used to hide behind skirts.

 You didn´t know if it was a gradual process, or if you woke up to it one day, but suddenly you couldn´t stop watching him. You couldn´t stop admiring him. He was so big, and strong, and he made you laugh so hard. His hands were soft, and large. He was smart, catching things you hadn’t in meetings, and his voice would send shivers down your spine when he whispered in your ear, telling you things about the people you were surrounded by. Things that he had learned to keep you safe; precautions. You couldn't stop your cheeks from heating up anymore, they were perpetually flushed, and it was impossible to hold his gaze. Things that wouldn't have mattered before made you stutter. But what set you off, was when you would look up to him, when you expected to meet those cool eyes, they would be somewhere else.

 Before, when you had been upset, you would drag Hajime to the training rooms and throw him a sword. He would let you get a few hits in, before winning, of course. But only after you got everything you needed out. He was the cool water to your raging disposition. He had a sternness to him now, even though his fiery character could rival yours sometimes, he knew when to hold back. And when he did, his easy answers and cool voice were equally frustrating as they were calming. You shared more together while in those practice rooms swinging swords than anywhere else. But now you had lost the thing that had made it better.

 Now you only saw him when mandatory, behind your throne and next to you at meals. He seemed to be more interested in the guards and other warriors than you, so you ate in silence and read alone at night. You eventually requested a new guard, and your parents said no. You two were friends, and he was sent here for you, that would not be changing overnight. But he didn't feel like your Hajime anymore, your friend or defender. Because he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, not like he was supposed to. Or how you wanted him too.

 It made you burn when you looked up and he wasn't looking at you. The embers in your chest that would flare when you didn't get your way, when someone disagreed with you, when Hajime said something brash, were a roaring fire. You didn't understand why things had changed, where it had come from.

 You saw it, when his eyes met the older courtiers- well, older compared to you. You saw the eyes of the women on him, how they trailed over his broad back and strong arms. You knew that the lady’s had started taking their walks through the section of the palace they had previously thought of as unpalatable. They would bat their eyelashes and fan their fans in front of them as they walked past the training rooms, hoping to catch Hajime in only a thin damp shirt. It was infuriating.

 You took to ignoring him, long lonely months. It was intense, the war between you both, silently throwing glances at each other, both sets of eyes holding promises of worse words to come. He was a weight behind you at all times, dragging your heart deeper into a pit of solitary despair. He left you whenever he could afford, never letting your parents or the other guards see. You were kept safe, but it wasn’t comforting like before. The walks to your rooms after dinner were the worst, the internal battle inside you was tearing you to shreds. Should you talk to him? Confront him? Bear a dagger and rough it out? But he would leave you by your door and walk away before you could decide anything at all. 

 You had burned too bright, the fire in you now gone. The fury that had kept you warm was nothing but a cold pit in your chest.

 You were all alone, every day that knowledge split you open like a cold blade. You were determined to stay away from him, to not bother him, since he obviously didn’t want anything to do with you. But one day, it all became too much. 

 You had attended a dinner tonight, with a distant royal family. And they had said things to you that they had no right to say. They had spoken as if they had known you. They knew things about you that made your skin crawl. All of those things were somewhat common knowledge, but then they had started making assumptions about you, asking you things that if you were a queen you would have known the answers to. But you weren’t, you were a stupid little princess, with no one. And you felt so small. 

 The only thing that made it worse was when you realized you were bracing for something. After every one of their comments, you were waiting for one of Hajime's raging blows. For him let his temper go, just a little. To tell them how it was, to defend you. But it didn’t come, you looked over and he wasn’t paying attention. What happened to your warrior? Your watcher? Your protector?

 -

 You remembered a conversation between you and Hajime, before. It was late at night, Hajime was laying on the rug in front of your heart, his arm thrown over his eyes. Your book set to the side.

 The candles had all burned low, but the fire stood strong. It casted a blood orange glow across half of his body, the other half a stark blue. You didn’t know if he was asleep, and took your time admiring him.

 The side away from you, from your vantage point lounging on the couch, was flushed. His mouth was pulled down slightly, but it didn’t scare you. That looked like you’re Hajime, with sharp teeth and a barking laugh. Who felt everything thrown at him. 

 You didn’t know how he hid it so well, but he really did experience everything; he might conceal it, but it was in there.

 You looked at the other side of him, the one in a cold blue light from the moon coming in your windows. You wondered if that was what other people saw, the straight backed man, who knew who he was and what he stood for. 

You said his name gently, he grunted in response.

“Do you remember… that tragedy I read years ago, about the two lovers…” you explained a little more, trailing off.

He took a deep breath saying, “ yes, with the idiots.” 

You don’t bother hiding your pursed lips before you say, “what… what would you do in their situation, since they’re such idiots.” You pluck at a thread on the couch, not looking at him.

From your peripheral vision you could see him turn his head to look at the flames, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits you, you're scared to know his real answer, his honest one.

You get up and walk to the window, and the stark difference in temperature makes you shudder. It was starting to snow, just barely. The moon was so bright, causing the gardens below your window to glow. The marble walkways mirroring back the moon.

“I would…” you look back at him, with a hand still on the window sill, and almost gasp. “I would run too, because I wouldn’t know any better, just like them.” He had sat up and turned away from the fire, his whole front blue and cold. 

You couldn’t stand the window anymore, and went to sit by the hearth. 

-

You think he’s run. He’s carried himself as far away from you as he can without abandoning his responsibilities. The gap between you is the largest thing you have ever felt. A dark ravine, and on the other side was him, with his back turned to you. Everything is blue, the moon won’t let you forget, it refuses to shroud out the light, so you can’t remain ignorant. You hate it. And every day, you come closer and closer to falling into that deep crack in the earth, reaching out your arms, stretching your fingers, feeling the rocks shift under your feet, pebbles falling into the dark pit, maybe to never hit the bottom.

-

 You couldn’t calm yourself even hours later, your mind would go back to dinner when you tried to read, and you couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, when it was too late to brandish swords or you were too young to hold one, Hajime and you would walk the palace halls. Running from guards not to be caught, jumping on chairs in forgotten sitting rooms, daring each other to grab things from the kitchen. All before putting his grumpy cool mask back on and escorting you back to your rooms. But you never dared walk the halls yourself, you were always too scared. Hajime... Hajime, he would always take you, and make you feel better. 

 You had been pacing your rooms, trying to find a way to fix your hurt. Trying to come up with any solution. Sitting down on your bed, you put your head in your hands, pleading with the tears not to fall. You wanted him to make you feel better again, you wanted to feel safe with him behind you, not cold and unwanted. 

 You didn't know what to do, really, you told yourself as you snuck your way into his rooms, holding your breath the whole way there, still scared. Closing the door behind you you leaned against it, and for a moment, it felt like before. He smelled the same and the room was so warm it made you shiver in satisfaction. But he was a warrior, so your moment of peace didn’t last long as he rolled over, almost reaching for a weapon before he realized who you were. 

 You tried smiling, but seeing him like that, with his dark hair messy, and cheeks ruddy from sleep just hurt you more. You couldn’t stop the quiver in your lip.

 “You've been crying,” he said, pushing himself off the bed slightly. You tried not to watch the blanket fall off his shoulders.

 Nodding, you turn your head, wiping away tears with your wrist, not looking him in the eyes. You took a moment, trying to calm yourself and almost took a step towards him, but you caught yourself. That made the tears come faster. If things had been like before, you would have ran to him. You won't have hesitated, you wouldn't be bracing for something foul to come out of his mouth. 

 But those things didn't matter, not when he finally sat up and opened his arms letting you throw yourself at him.

 He rocked you back and forth, pulling you onto his lap, cooing at you. “What’s wrong, what’s the matter my princess.” The vibrato in his voice echoed through you, made you want to melt, but it was also painfully familiar. 

 His kind words only made you cry harder. How long had it been since you had heard him speak to you at all? And it had to have been even longer since he had been kind to you like this, only reserved for when you were totally alone, and desperately in need. 

 There was so much wrong, but you could only find it in yourself to shrug. He let out a scoff. Pulling you back, you tried to hide your face, but he grabbed your chin to make you look up. He swiped a thumb under your eye, catching a falling tear. You almost smiled at his frown, how you had missed it, when it only promised light scolding, not cruel disregard.

 “I j-just... want you t-to m-make me feel better,” the last word comes out in another desperate sob and he pulled you to him again. 

 He hummed saying, “Don't tell me someone did this to you.” 

 You shake your head, burying your face in his chest. You didn't want to face the truth, that he had been so neglectful that he really hadn't seen what had happened at dinner.

 “Let's get you to bed, okay?” 

 You desperately nod, you had missed this so much. You had missed his kindness so much. You almost felt like little kids again, and he led you through the dim hallways clutching your hand. Like when you had first met.

 You woke up alone.

 Cold, sober reality washed over you like water, slithering down your spine. Oh. Things were not back to before. You hated Before, it taunted you. It laughed at you as you broke each time the word crossed your mind. Before was better, the most shining and brilliant version of what you had lost. 

 -

 He was escorting you across the castle, and you battled with yourself again. Just like always but worse, now that you knew he was still in there. The contrast ached more. You almost didn't say anything, but you passed by a set of windows and happened to look outside.

 It was spring, almost summer, and everything was green again. The hills outside rippled as the green grass swayed. Beyond the grass were wildflowers. You wish you and Hajime could ride out there and lay in them. But you couldn't- or, he wouldn’t.

 That makes you stop for some reason, and you walk up to the window looking out. He stops too, remaining behind you.

 “Hajime,” You say quietly. He doesn't say anything, facing forward.

 He wouldn’t look at you. He refused until you grabbed him as hard as you could with your little hands, not holding back when your nails dug into his wrist and forearm.

 He tried pulling back, but you wouldn’t let him. Grabbing one of your wrists he made you yield. 

 “I’m not... we’re not going to talk about this, not yet,” he said the words with shifting eyes, not able to meet yours for too long. “I can’t.”

 You had never minded him when he was his serious self, because you would always see the loving side of him eventually. When you were alone, when it mattered. But this, the firm cold shoulder, it wasn’t the protective one you were used to, it was cruel. 

 “Well,” you spit out, ripping your wrist from his grip, “ when you can finally tell me your secret, it better be important, because right now I don’t appreciate being ignored- ignored and...” you struggled to find the right words, your chin quivering, eyes filling with tears. Unloved? Unprotected? 

 “Whatever this is,” you gesture at him, the venom in your voice dissipating with each syllable. Until each blink yielded more tears.

 ¨You´re dismissed,¨ you tell him, you could make it to tea just fine by yourself.

 -

 You were furious, angry, livid. The only thing that dosed the ever flaming embers in your chest was the announcement your father made. You had known it was coming, but him telling everyone solidified it.

 He had called you and Hajime to his private rooms a few nights before, you two had met in front of the door.

 You were to decide which member of your court  would take the oath to be your protector and advisor. Everyone knew it was going to be Hajime, but sometimes a ruler didn't have such loyal followers, and they would choose from a selection. But your father wanted to follow tradition and tell you properly. You had come of age, it would be time for you to take up more responsibility, and this was the first step.

 You could feel him standing next to you, facing your father and mother where they sat. The emers in you were doused, replaced by a rush of freezing water that contrasted your hot tears. You couldn't imagine spending the rest of your life like this. You would be a horrible queen if this was the future that awaited you. 

 Before he made his oath to you, there was to be your birthday celebration. A frantic day of eating, receiving gifts and dancing. Who would you dance with?

 Tight lipped, you thanked your parents and walked out. You could hear Hajime behind you, and you didn't try to quiet your ragged breathing as the tears flowed. 

 They had threatened to fall when your father stood up at dinner and told your court.

 -

 It was your birthday, you hadn't danced with Hajime, and you always danced with Hajime. Everytime you could, you let your face relax and your smile melted away. You were exhausted. But someone asked you to dance.

 The man no older than Hajime, with fluffy brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, asked you with a hypnotizing smile. He spun you around and said the most outrageous things in your ears, you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. 

 You would pass a couple and he would share their most treacherous secrets. Nothing too bad, just outlandish enough that you would blush and want to hit him- only lightly.

 He asked you again and again, until you finally had to say no, your face was hot, your skin was covered in a layer of perspiration and you were sure that your hair had fallen out of its updo.

 You made your way back to your seat on the dais, next to your parents. You didn't realize that Hajime had moved from his spot on the wall, blending in with the other guards, to stand behind you.

 Taking a seat, you hear a scoff. Straightening your back you almost don't believe it. Maybe it was the exercise, or the fact that you were feeling loose after laughing so hard. Or maybe it was because you were actually having fun, but you found that tonight- tonight you had energy. 

 You could feel it in your chest, that scoff has blown a harsh wind over those embers, fanning them a glowing orange.

 “Yes, Hajime,” you say, slightly turning your head in his direction. You tried to keep your tone light.

 He grunted, not saying anything. You place your hands in your lap. He won't even give you words.

 “Tell me,” you say, face blank, friendly tone gone.

 “Nothing, Princess.”

 How dare he scoff at you and pretend you were the crazy one.

 You spun in your seat. There he was, in his nice uniform, with your kingdom's mascot and colors. Your mascot and colors. Your kingdom's mascot and colors. The kingdoms that you would rule, mascot and colors. 

 The blades strapped around him were intricate; polished and shrap. He looked straight forward, not acknowledging you. He looks good, something inside of your chest whispered, but was whisked away as your eyes caught on the dagger on his belt, with the same color jews as his uniform

 You stood up in a flurry, so fast that he only had time to brace himself before you were grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your level. Nails digging into him all the while.

 “Follow me,” you say through gritted teeth. Pulling back looking him in the eyes, you tell him exactly what he needed to know. It was an order, an order from his future ruler. The exchange was so fast you knew no one would see it.

 Spinning on your heel you walked down the dais and straight into the crowd of dancing people as they desperately tried to not step on you.

 “Princess,” Your father said from his seat behind you. You knew he was objecting at your rudeness, but you didn't care, the act of disobedience spurring you on. You hear the music halt, only for a second, but you keep moving.

 You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you made your way further and further towards the doors out of the hall. Each breath wasn’t enough oxygen, and your vision spotted, but the chills rippling over your skin were addicting. 

 You knew Hajime was behind you.

 -

 You didn't answer any of his furious remarks as you grabbed his forearm, dragging him through the palace. You turned down a certain hall and he stopped talking.

 You threw open the doors of the practice hall, letting go of Hajime’s arm. Marching down the long open space, so big it could probably hold dozens of bodies, you open one of the cabinets across from the row of tall windows. The room was dim, and you don´t think of lighting candles.

 Selecting two swords, you slide one to him across the floor, to where he stood still at the door. He stopped it carefully with his boot, as it spun towards him.

 Looking up from the sword, he says, ”No.”

 “Pick up the sword, Hajime,” You say from across the room, sword in your hand. You’re not sure why you threw it at him, he already had one on his hip. Maybe because it was unfair, that he could always have one and you could not.

 He scoffed at you, leaving it on the ground. 

 “Pick it up,” You growled.

 He didn't have time to roll his eyes before the twin dagger to the one on his belt landed in the door frame, next to his head.

You watched his eyes flick to your hand, smoothing out your skirts, hiding the slit that led to your thigh. You switched your sword back to your dominant hand, breathing already ragged, not looking away from those sharp eyes as he picked the sword off the ground. 

 You stayed exactly where you were as he walked towards you.

 “You are b-”

 “I don't want to hear any of what you have to say about my behavior.”

 He rolled his eyes, stopping in front of you, getting into his proper stance. You mimicked him.

 “You are being a brat.”

 You swing for him, and he easily blocks, sending your sword arcing through the air, still in your hand. He sends a shallow jab at you, which you take a step back from.

 “What right do you have judging the people I spend my time with?” You say, jabbing right back at him, which he blocks with a sweep of his sword. “And when am I not?”

 You go for his left, which he dodges, and as he came around spinning to face you again, he swung low at the wide skirts of your dress. You hear it rip and feel the cold air hit your calves. Taking two steps back he observes you, lowering his sword, intentions clear. 

 He thought that would end your little fight.

 He thought that the ruining of your dress would make you stop, that you were shallow enough to ask for his mercy just because of a tear in your skirts. It made you furious, knowing he wasn't taking this seriously.

 You feint lunging at him, he swung from the right, and you blocked, swords suspended in the air for just a moment. 

 “Stop it.” You say, voice almost a whisper.

 You grunt and pull back. Circling each other, you watch as the moonlight brightens his face. The circling continues, and no words are exchanged, giving you time to think about what had been said, only making you more upset.

 You had faults, in moments like these, you couldn't hide your next move, anger making you just want to act. You swing at him, and he blocks. While your sword is up, he takes the chance to roll, and shove you backwards away from him. A dirty trick.

 “Stop what?” He says to you, looking at you from where you had stumbled a few steps away, face blank.

 You looked at him, with his back to the windows, face shrouded in darkness, and you hated him.

 Before you could think about it, before you could flinch and regret your actions, your arms were arching up, throwing your sword across the room. Watching as Hajime involuntarily followed its arch through the air, sinning blade spinning over handle, until it landed in a clatter. You watched him all the while, and saw his shocked expression before he could hide it.

 “I am your princess,” You growl, his head snapping back to you.

 “I am your princess!” You yell, taking a step towards him, chest pressed to his.

 “I am your Princess!” You scream, shoving him backwards toward the large windows.

 You pressed against him, leaning him back against the window sill. You stretch to your tiptoes, your hands clutching his shirt as you stare into his eyes. With all the venom you can manage, panting, you say, “I am your princess! I am your princess and you will do as I say!”

 “What are you doing?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. You barely hear his words, or his sword clatter to the ground, your breathing too ragged, your heart beat too loud. You could feel it, in every part of your body, it echoed through you.

 And in that moment you can almost see him. That flash in his eyes, that tone of voice, his breath fanning over your face. He was your Hajime, only for a second.

 “Stop it,” you say, losing momentum with each word, “stop it.”

 He finally tugs himself free, ripping your hands from him. He doesn't let go as he presses you a few steps back and leans down to look into your eyes. 

 His eyes were dark, and you lost him again, the Hajime you want. You yearned to bang on his chest and beg for him back, but you don't dare break the delicate dance you two were in.

 “I see them,”  you hiss, trying to get in his face, “I see how they look at you.”

 “Who?” He spits.

 “Your courtiers.” You say the words as if it's a curse.

 He throws your hands down, taking steps to the door, still facing you.

 “Nothing?” You ask. “You never have anything to say anymore.”

 “Why does it matter?” Squaring his shoulders he looks at you straight on. 

 “Wh-”

 “Why does it matter if they look at me?”

 “It- I-”

 “Tell me why it matters, Princess, and maybe we can talk. I don't want part in your tantrums.”

 You watch him walk away, listening to every fading step, until you only have your breathing to fill the silence.

 -

 You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, it made you sick, haunting you with the memories of what you had said to each other.

 Maybe you had been wrong. Wrong to order him to follow you, wrong to act so brash, wrong to scream at him, and to accuse him of those things.

 You scolded yourself for acting that way, to let your temper control you. It had felt good, until you had crashed. 

 The option-less future spread in front of you. What would you do? Exhaustion was seeping into you, a new type of tired, one that you would do anything to amend. 

 If your temper wouldn’t fix your problems, you would have to try something else, even if it burned you from the inside out.

 -

 You called him to your rooms, something you had never done before. There was no need to call upon each other, you always knew where the other was

 Hajime found you in the chair in the corner, the one he used to stay in; you rarely used it.

 The last rays of evening sunlight were shining in your windows, cascading over your body.

 Your face was illuminated by the sun, every beautiful line and imperfection was open in the light. It made you glow, like you should have been kept in a painting so you could be adored forevermore. You were golden, hair caught fire, glowing like a beacon of truth. The heir of an empire, the hope of thousands. 

 “Majesty,” he bowed, something he had only done a handful of times, for special occasions. It felt forgien and stiff doing it there.

 “Iwaizumi” you said, it sounded like a song, a sigh and a prayer and a plea. But it wasn’t right.

 When was the last time you had called him that? Never, a furious voice in the back of his mind told him.

 “It’s almost time for me to choose.”

 He stood up straighter, meeting your eyes for the first time. There wasn’t that look in them like before, of hurt and hardness. Determination that you would power through. It was just a fact.

 It was almost time for you to choose the person of your court to swear a never ending bond with. To protect each other, in body and soul, to in turn protect your kingdom.

 You looked down at your hands, and he was compelled to take a step forward to make sure he heard you, but not too close. He had a feeling that if he took another step he would see your  red rung eyes, and he didn’t want to think about that.

 “I want it to be you… I'm sorry for that night, for yelling, and trying to cut you into pieces. But…” You take a deep breath and look out the window. “ I don’t know what’s changed, and I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, and whatever I’ve done, but I want it to be you” 

 With those last words you looked him in the eyes. The anger was gone, and all he saw was a tired princess. His tired princess. You didn’t break his gaze, not saying anything more .

 He almost wanted to question you, the maturity in your words shocking. But he stayed quiet; that wasn’t his place anymore.

 You had said your peace, he knew, as he looked into your eyes, with your face passive. It was his turn now, to come to you and bear his teeth, to gouge the hurt out of his chest in to lay it bare for both of you.

 -

 Hajime had a memory he kept close to him, right on his hip. He might have kept it on his ribs, the ones that protected his heart, if that was where you kept daggers. 

 It was the winter solstice celebration from years before. Hajime and you were in your parents' private rooms, giving gifts.The two of you sat on the floor next to the fire, with your parents on the couch in front of you. 

 “Now this one is for both of you.” Your mother explained, handing you both identical boxes. “Open them at the same time.”

 You gave Hajime one look before tearing into yours. He didn’t get to see your reaction as he worked on delicately undoing the ribbons, but he heard your gasp.

 Resting in your hands was an exquisite, shining dagger. You gently held it up, and both your heads turned in to stare at it. 

 “Oh my…” You gawked.

 Hajime went back to his gift and opened it to an identical dagger. Twins. 

 He held his up, and you two compared.

They had blades of shimmering silver, with curved tips that looked sharp enough to split hairs. The handles were of matching silver formed into delicate patterns, inland with jewels that matched your kingdom's colors. The metal reflected the light of the fire behind you, flickering gold and orange, like the blades held the sun.

 Looking up to your parents your father explained. “I had those made for the two of you.” 

 You waited, but that was all he offered. Hajime watched you balance the dagger in your hand, turning it over and examining it. 

 “They’re beautiful.” You say.

 “I would hope that you don’t use them on each other, and only wear them for celebrations, but I doubt that is something that will happen.” 

 Hajime chuckled, looking down at his own dagger. The king might not have said it, but he had a feeling he knew what the daggers were for. 

 They were the two of you. Cut from the same stone, at each other with blades as sharp as diamonds, all while in your shining castle. 

 They were to remind you where you came from, that you two were one in the same, and that you were to work together. Much better to mar an enemy with the same blade than have the one that matches your in your gut. 

 “Thank you,” he said.

 Hajime looked at you, and you were smiling. Leaning over, your grin was feral, and he couldn’t help the electricity that went down his spine.

 “Do you know what this means?” You ask. “I need to get my dresses tailored.” 

 Hajime ruffled your hair, but your smile was burned into his memory. One in the same. Maybe his future queen really would be as strong as him. 

 Hajime could learn to like that.

 -

 Hajime was trained by your father and his men to be a warrior. Your warrior. While you were trained in how to fight men across oceans and continents, he was taught how to fight men with steel and teeth. You did give him a run for his money when you brawled, but he knew that he would never want to be facing you in a killing field, with an army at your disposal.

 Your cleverness was beyond him, not that you would ever give yourself credit for it. But you were still young, and when he caught something that you had missed in meetings or conversations, the sparkle in your eye, the way he knew you were in awe of him, was addictive.

 In all honesty, Hajime wasn’t your only lover, or admirer, you had many. Your parents were kind to you, your father could often be found making you giggle, especially when you were seated next to him at meetings. Your mother and you discussed books and music. You would often receive compliments from your father’s advisors and friends, which always made you blush in thanks. And your mothers lady’s loved to give you advice about clothes and any romantic endeavors you might go one. Not that there were many. The boys liked winking at you, and making you blush. Hajime tried his best to keep that to a minimum. Your court did love you, they loved the princess that was bashful and kind, but had the cleverest ideas at council meetings. You were the beautiful shining light, in your beautiful shining castle, and you would keep your court strong.

 Those were all things that Hajime knew well. Painfully well. Because he was always the first to notice. He had seen how they all cared and vowed to make sure that you would stay that way, that you were protected and cared for. So your light never went out, so your kingdom was always strong. He would do what he must, he would not let your court fall.

 So when he had looked at you and the light in your eyes had changed, he felt responsible.

 It wasn’t a bad change, just different. It only took him a short amount of time to pinpoint what it was.

 He couldn’t love you, not like that. He couldn’t let himself break you, because he knew he’d manage somehow, he was always a little heavy handed.

 What protector would he be if he broke your heart? If he was the first one to weaken you? To welcome you into the cruel world you would be entering, of choosing the best of horrible options, of lying and deceiving? He would not be the one to welcome you to that.

 -

 Maybe he was wrong, maybe you could take it. He wouldn’t be the one introducing you to the hurt, he could be the one to guide you through it.

 -

 He was surprised when he found you, always too afraid to wander the place at night. You were in a sitting room, long forgotten by the court, locked away and covered in sheets. 

 It was one of the rooms you would play in as children, with the furniture pushed to one corner; each and every one of the walls between the tall windows was covered in paintings.

 By now both of you had them memorized, whether that be by sunlight, candle light or moon light, both of you knew each of them well.

 You were only looking at one, standing right in front of it, your favorite painting of them all. 

 Hajime watched you, in the light of the moon, stare at the picture. Your profile was perfectly outlined by the stark light.

 “Tell me about her again,” he asked, voice carrying across the room.

 You spare him a glance before turning back to the painting.

 You take a step closer and take a breath. “Her name was Kiyoko.”

 You bring your hand up, and with only a finger you delicately trace the frame. 

“She was the most beautiful woman in the land, and the man who painted her was in love with her, but there were few who weren’t.”

 Hajime didn’t have to see the picture to know what it looked like, he had spent plenty of time looking at it with you. The girl was beautiful, with silky black hair, pale skin, and eyes that felt like they knew all, like they were windows into the fiercest storm.

 He knew the curve of her lips and the mole on her chin, and the pastel color of her dress. She was framed in a sea of greenery; plants, grass and trees all around her. Despite her pale dress and cool eyes she was surrounded by orange flowers, and in the corner of the painting, were perched crows.

 He wasn’t sure what made you stare at that painting like you did. Like you could see details that weren’t there. You had always said that when you looked at it, you longed for the frame to expand, for the picture to grow wider, to see what she saw.

 You also had a thousand questions for her, you wanted to know her as intimately as you knew her face. But she never answered, staring back with those eyes, until only Hajime was left to answer your questions.

 “She was loved by everyone, it was said that you would be blessed if she acknowledged you, and if she spoke to you, you were destined for the most devine heaven.” You move your finger from the frame to the painting, looking like you would touch it, but you don’t, only coming infinitely close.

 “She married the man she loved, and had a laugh that sounded like bells.” You bring your hand down and step back from the painting. 

 “You would be her most devoted admirer.” Hajime said.

 “I already am,” you smile looking down at your hands, “but I think she would have deserved a beautiful friendship.” 

 -

 It wasn’t a real story, her name was Kiyoko, that was the name of the painting, but each time you told it, it was different.

 Looking up to reply to Hajime, you met his eyes. On his face was a smile that delicately curved, turning his mouth up.

 That smile… the curve of his mouth, the sharp teeth behind it. It made your knees week, the relief of seeing it again.

 He took steps towards you, until you were standing shoulder to shoulder looking at her again. 

 “What do the crows mean,” he asked, encouraging you to keep going.

 You take a moment before answering. “They’re her other admirers, only to ever love her from afar.” 

 He hummed, and you swear you could feel it in your bones. 

 You turn to look at him, right in the eyes.

 “It matters… it mattered because you weren’t looking at me.”

 He tried to speak, but you stopped him. “No, listen to me.”

 He wouldn’t look away from your eyes, face cool.

 “I couldn’t- can’t- you just… you weren’t looking at me, and I didn’t know what to do. It’s unbearable.” Your words were so quiet, always so quiet in moments like these

 It seemed like he couldn’t bear to break the silence as he said with narrowed eyes. “You think I don’t know, that I didn’t see?”

 “You won’t break me Hajime,” you say with a scoff. He almost flinced, coming close but stopping. Like you had seen right through him when he wasn’t expecting.

 “You don’t know that,” he hissed, “I know, saw it, everything, and I made that decision. I won’t be the one to introduce you to that, to be the first one to hurt you.” 

 He spoke with his hands, and you watched them as they moved. They were so wide, well taken care of, you remember them being softer than expected.

 “You’re supposed to protect me,” you grit through your teeth. You don’t know if he can tell how flushed you are, but you know he can see the silver lining your eyes.

 “H-how am I supposed to protect this kingdom, t-this court without you! I can’t do it without you.”

 “You’ll do just fine,” he said, standing up straighter.

 “Don’t say that! Why would you- why would you say something like that.” 

It was getting hard to get the words out, every time he spoke you ached more and more.

 He was panting, like those words had winded him. His face was hard, unyielding. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and covered your wobbling mouth. A sick imitation of a comforting embrace

-

 He didn’t know what to do. His princess was shattering right in front of him and there was nothing he could do. 

 There was no one to point a blade at, no where to keep you safe. Looking at the tears in your eyes, he knew that this had been happening for a while. You were begging him to take his words back, any of them, but he wouldn’t let himself.

 Hajime resisted the urge to look down at his hands. He’d always been heavy handed, that's what he had said to himself. He was trying to shield you, gods-dammit, but those hands had done more harm than good when it really mattered.

 All he could do was watch you crumble in on yourself, while he stood feet away.

 -

 He was clueless. He always knew what to do. Your faithful, balanced Hajime was at a loss.

 You could see it, you blinked and you were there. No longer in that moon-bathed room, but outside, children again.

 How old were you? Nine? Eleven? How old was he? Thirteen? Fifteen? You were just children; the same as always. Had you even grown up, were you always clutching each other like this? So dependent yet so unaware of each other?

 You had never seen him like this, he lived with a sword in his hand and a shield on his back. His upper lip stiff, his will unmoving.

 But the man standing in front of you was desperate, with his hands splayed in front of him, like they would burn you if he got too close.

 Why couldn’’t you just say it, why were you two always dancing around it? Your own choreography, your own sacred, unique steps. 

 “I’m tired,” you say, shoulders dropping, eyes lifting to the ceiling.

 “I am too,” Hajime admitted.

 You closed your eyes tight, feeling more tears fall from your lashes. And when you opened them again, you were met with steel. Not like the steel of blades, but unforged steel, ready to be shaped, reborn.

 Looking into those eyes, the irises that framed hurricanes, it felt like those roaring winds blew right through you. Breathing life into you, fanning your flames. Maybe she could answer just one question for you.

 This is the last time, you vowed to yourself, no matter how it ends.

 -

 Hajime didn’t ask questions as you dragged him through the palace, his presence giving you a little more confidence than before.

 Up and up you went, just when he thought you were done taking him up stairs you found another set, and headed right to the top. You only felt him hesitate once, but you didn’t look back, and he followed. You made it to the top. A tower that was once a sentries station. 

 “How did you… isn’t there someone working here?” Hajime asked.

 You didn’t have to look at him to see the crease in his brow. “No, there’s no need to have anyone up here.”

 Your kingdom had been peaceful for years, if any attacks were to come, they would not be so often as to need guards on the lookout every day. Hajime knew that, so you followed. “I haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve just been walking around at night… and I wound up here.” 

 He didn’t say anything, but you knew what he was thinking. You never walked alone, the fact that you had been in that sitting room tonight was shocking. But you? Wondering up here?

 On one hand, you hoped that he was feeling guilty. On the other, you felt horrible for tearing him up like that. But you knew that was how he was feeling, he wouldn’t push it to the side this time. Not with it spelled out in front of him.

 Crossing his arms and leaning back, he gave you a look of disapproval, but you were no stranger to those cunning eyes. You tried not to dwell on the picture before you, slowly focusing into something- someone you recognized.

 You walked up to the window, leaning against it, staring at the slowly brightening horizon. 

 “Just tell me why.” Was all you said.

 -

 Hajime stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with you, hand on the cool window sill. The warmth that encompassed Hajime's side almost made him purr, you were so close.

 He took a moment to look at the view, the mountains in the distance, silhouetted by the rising sun. The dark sky was slowly becoming a splash of deep colors.

 “I don’t just protect you, your life isn't your own. What I do affects you, what I see keeps you safe. What I let you do… it could change so much. If I stumble, if I overlook something- so much is at steak. And I know what you were thinking when you looked at me.”  He paused as you nodded, and watched your eyes move from the horizon to the city nestled below the palace. “So I stopped, and you were pissed.”

 “I’ll be disappointed if you say you didn’t see that coming.”

 “Well, it worked to my advantage… until you woke me up that night…” 

 Your smile melted, but you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was bracing for something, that crackling irritation he was used to. But it didn’t come.

 Hajime stiled. Maybe this wasn’t him talking to his princess anymore, as you listened, as he spoke, he realized it was his queen in front of him. 

 “You hurt me. You were mine and then suddenly you weren’t.” He sat there and listened as your voice cracked

 “I’m sorry”

 You turned to look at him. “You can’t break me that easy Hajime, we’re one and the same, in sword and devotion. I want you at my back, I want you protecting me. I need you to want the same. I thought- I thought we agreed on that. So please… let me choose you.”

 “Please let me be your princess, please let me choose you, I want you to protect me, the right way.”

 With you next to him he could see the sunlight reflected in your eyes, how it made them sparkle, how the roofs of your city seemed to wink up at you with the last slivers of moon light. Telling him how much hope they had for you, how they knew that their princess would keep them safe.

 “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

 With that admission, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him as hard as you could. You took a few breaths before pulling back, still keeping your arms around him, looking into his eyes.

 “Let me be your princess Haji, please.” It was like you were looking for something in his eyes, not breaking the connection.

 “Always,” he whispered, leaning closer, not looking away.

 “But you aren’t my princess.” He watched your eyes flutter and he drew closer and closer, wrapping his arms around you, keeping you right against him. “You're my queen.”

 He met your lips, and you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself if he made you feel like you had again. 

 And as the sun created the mountains, and it's morning rays illuminated you and Hajime, he knew that his hands might have broken you, but they had also put you back together. 

 -

 Pulling away from Hajime, you try not to look as out of breath as you felt. You stared into his slate eyes and felt like he had never left, that the time between you that had hurt you  was just a memory, a distant past.

 They say you can’t remember pain. Maybe its to give you the courage to forgive, to be able to try again.

 You watched his mouth as he said, “I'm a fool.”

 “Then that would make me a fool too,” you muse, tone playful.

 “No,” he said, shaking his head slightly, furrow in his brow. “We can’t have a queen who's a fool.”

 “Then what am I?”

 “An idiot,” you watched his mouth as he said it. His smile was crooked, like he was trying to hide it.

 “Like the lovers,” You breathe, your own smile spreading across your face.

 “Like the lovers,” he repeated.

 The word lovers echoed in your head when you decided you wanted to kiss him again.

 -

 With each breath, you felt the embers inside of you cool to ashes, blowing in the wind like ash. 

 You might have lied, that night wouldn't be your last fight, but it would never be like that ever again.

 Hajime and you were once again in the practice hall, but this time things were different. You were both giddy, as the early morning sun glinted in your eyes. You tumbled and swung your swords at each other, but this time it was laughter shared between you, not savage words.

 You felt like you two were dancing again. With your dress whispering around your legs, and the dagger that matched Hajimes visible around your hip, you felt like you had that night as children, when Hajime first taught you to laugh. 

 You weren’t upset, or nervous this time, as you gave each other bruises and sore shoulders. Because later that morning at the ceremony you knew who would be standing next to you, with his back straight and his shoulders down. Your fiercest warrior and most devoted lover.

[anarchiii]

Worlds apart-5 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part five | warnings: practically none | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; Pain and suffering one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he’s not meant for this world, but maybe he is meant for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Azriel’s POV

“Where are we going again?” He questioned, trying not to look at her too long, she sighed, “Azriel, for the fourth time, we are going to the Royal Library. Does your world not have libraries?” She said, Azriel had explained to her earlier than he was from somewhere called ‘Prythian’ not ‘Erelia’ or ‘Wendlyn’.

Celaena had taken it surprisingly well to finding out that Azriel was from a completely different universe and had just simply said; “very well, then, I’ll get you back to your world if that is what you wish,” he hadn’t had the heart to tell her that he didn’t particularly want to go back right now, or if he was even welcome there anymore. And he didn’t know if her willingness to help him was her way of saying ‘I’m going to help you go home so you can leave me the hell alone’ he hoped that wasn’t the case. He has grown quite fond of the golden haired-spitfire.

“So you are certain we will find what we are looking for?” He questioned, she turned her head to look at him, frowning at him under long, dark lashes, “I did not say anything of the sorts, this future research and discoveries is purely based on luck, don’t get your hopes up.” She said blatantly. Azriel had never met someone like her, someone so witty, beautiful and snappy but also kind and compassionate, not to mention her apparent love for the dramatics, it was so. . . Her, if that made sense.

He sucked in a breath as they walked through the huge doors to the library, mountains of books and shelves immediately coming into view, there were a couple scholars and librarians walking around but they did not take notice of them, their day filled with reading and cataloging books.

Celaena was frowning again, this time at a librarian sitting behind his desk, the man’s eyes narrowing from behind his glasses as he noticed her stare, Celaena let out a growl that seemed more Fae than Human but kept walking, Azriel didn’t dare ask what that was about. She was scary enough as it was.

They kept walking down halls lined with books upon books until the lights started fading, and dust started appearing everywhere they looked, she kept walking, though.

Azriel took the time to map out the library and all the people in it, so far, there was only one exit, not a good thing, Celaena seemed to be thinking the same thing, they seemed to do that a lot, but, as they say. Like calls to like.

-

Celaena’s POV

“Stop looking at me like that,” Celaena said, not bothering to turn around from where she was searching bookshelves in one of the many catacombs, thankfully, it wasn’t the same one she has visited before, she shuddered at the memory of that. . . Beast.

“How do you know I’m looking at you? You have your back turned to me!” Azriel hissed, for an apparent esteemed warrior, he was quite touchy.

No one had mentioned what had happened in the bed last night so she didn’t bring it up, it didn’t mean she didn’t think about it though, “aren’t you a ‘Spymaster’ or whatever, shouldn’t you know?” She questioned, earning a grumble in response that had her chuckling, it made him more human, which was better for her. And her nerves.

-

Two hours, two hours they spent down her, and found absolutely nothing, it’s not like she was expecting a book on world-walking but it would’ve been nice to find something down here, Azriel seemed to be thinking the same thing as he ripped off his hood and plopped down onto a dusty chair, she half expected it to break under his weight but no, for a male of his size. He apparently wasn’t that heavy.

Celaena went back to searching the shelves when a cover caught her eye, it was the Walking-Dead, how did it get down here? She pulled the book out and opened it, nothing, well—not nothing. But not what they were looking for.

She kept flicking through the pages, looking for something, anything, when a familiar voice broke through the air of silence, “what the fuck! Celaena?” Dorian yelled, she whipped her head around, Azriel at her side instantly, “uh, uh,” she started panicking. Oh Gods. Dorian was going to get them killed! “Uhm. . . It’s not what it looks like?” She made up a hundred excuses in her head but didn’t get to use any of them as Azriel hit Dorian in the back of the head with the hilt of her dagger, “oh fuck, Az! Oh Gods, this is how I’m going to die!” She started pacing around the room, “it’s fine, it’s fine!” He said at last, “we just need to take him back to our room, easy,” great, that’s a great plan. They would drag the unconscious Crown prince of Ardalan through his own library and through his castle into technically his room, easy!

“I’ll grab his legs! You grab his arms! And for Mala’s sake, put your hood back on!” She yelled, not caring about her volume.

Thanks to what luck they possessed, they managed to drag Dorian through the castle and into her room, they dumped the prince onto the couch in the game room and Celaena went to grab a cloth to clean up the blood, the blood, running through her bedroom she nearly ran into someone, oh Gods, not just someone. . .“Chaol!” She shrieked, she was so screwed. . .

The End.

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