#who has never kept a single thought to herself her entire life

[jewishbarbies]

my mom has been very vocal about how much she doesn't like that i'm a horror fan for several years, and now she laughs when i mention anything about the Barbie movie because she "can't believe i like Barbie" since it's so different, like, if she only knew what i post about on the internet. oh boy.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

flynn rider aemond being tied up with rupanzels hair and he gets hard abt it lol

Innocent rupanzel has never seen a man so she starts to experiment around him

First was spot the difference, what constitutes as a man and woman, only to find his half hard cock and this makes her wet

and she takes all her frustrations out on his dick

Is This…Hair?! -Yandere!Aemond T

Important A/n:Must Read (Dark)

Okay so this one is DEFINITELY DARK. Y/n is the epitome of innocence, she’s lived in the tower her whole life, only ever read the books that her “Mother” got for her and she didn’t have any clue that men even existed.

She is clueless because when she asks her “Mother” questions she gets beaten, she learned very young to just do as she was told.

The first thing Aemond realized as he woke up was that he was unable to move, opening his eye he saw a circular room, but it had everything a house needed. A small kitchen, living space, too few bookshelves for his taste, then there were stairs leading up to what he assumed was a bedroom. Just as he looked down to try and free himself there was a voice that came from…above him?

‘Don’t try to escape, you’ll never get out!’ A girls voice spoke and Aemond looked up, seeing what looked like a girl hiding behind one of the beams near the ceiling.

‘Look, I’m sorry I just broke into your house but I was in a bit of trouble. I won’t hurt you Darling, please won’t you let me out of…Is this…Hair?!’ He was stunned as he finally figured out what the soft texture of the “rope” was.

All at once the girl leapt down to the floor, controlling her descent with it, not harming herself a bit it seemed. ‘Have you come for my hair?! Mother always said someone would! I didn’t believe her but…She was right to lock me away up here.’

Aemond instantly found himself thinking about how gorgeous this girl was, she was absolute perfection made into human form, not one single blemish aside from the bruise on the side of her face that looked like someone had slapped her pretty hard. His thought then trailed to the idea that she had been up here her entire life with no one to talk to, never able to leave…what kind of a mother would do that to her child?

Then again, who is Aemond to judge? He’s not a good man, never has been and never will be. Hell, he’s tied to a chair with a hot girl inspecting him and he is unable to control his own cock as it swells in his breeches.

‘Have you been up here your entire life?’ He wondered as she stepped a bit closer, now about 5 feet away.

‘Of course! The outside world is dangerous, mother says there are monsters everywhere!’ He could see how scared she was a he felt for her a bit. She had never experienced anything that is good in the world, just kept inside and naive, too innocent for the world around her. Aemond had never been innocent, as long as he can remember he was alone, having run away from the orphanage he grew up in when he was 11 he fended for himself fairly well.

‘Honestly you are describing almost every guy I’ve ever met, though they’re not all bad. I’m not a bad guy, I don’t want to hurt you. I only came here to hide.’

‘What is a “guy”?’ She asked and Aemond felt his jaw drop. What had this girls mother done to her?!

‘You…you don’t know what a guy is?’ She shook her head. ‘A guy is a boy, it’s the opposite of a girl, you are a girl, I am a boy or you could say that you are a woman and I am a man. You know the old stories of a man and a woman falling in love and living happily ever after?’ She shook her head.

‘What is love?’ Once again he was stunned by her naïveté but he half expected this one. However this one gave him an idea…Aemond loved her innocence, craved it and here it was for the taking. If he took his time, he was confident he could own this girls soul if he wanted to.

And he Desperately wanted to.

‘Come closer and look at me, I won’t try to move, I promise. Just see our differences and you’ll understand.’ She cautiously crept closer until she stood before him. ‘Touch me, you know what you look and feel like, now feel me. It’s okay, go on.’ She hesitated, unsure about this stranger. ‘Hey, what’s your name, hmm?’

‘R-Rapunzel.’

‘Wow, that’s a beautiful name. My name is Aemond, okay? We know each others names so we’re friends now, no reason to be nervous sweet girl. Now, come sit on my lap and look at me.’ Rapunzel must have thought his explanation to be a sound one because a moment later she plopped herself into his lap and reached up to touch his face.

‘Your face is scratchy.’ She giggled, rubbing over the stubble.

‘There’s a reason for that. When a man and a women love each other they play games together just for them, the rough stubble on my face will make my future wife happy.’ She looked to be considering that but didn’t ask before touching the eyepatch and looking curious.

‘Did someone hurt you Aemond?’ He nodded and she took the eyepatch off to see a large sapphire where his eye should be. ‘You’re so pretty.’ She stated, touching over his scar gently before running her hands down his jaw to his neck and over his chest which was flat and hard unlike hers. ‘That’s different…’ she admitted, looking down at her chest to see where it is much bigger than his.

‘You can look if you’d like, men have hard, flat chests, usually with defined muscles. Women have breasts-‘

‘Why?’ She questioned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, though she was unable to pull it off with her hair in the way.

‘They’re for whatever man she falls in love with to touch and suck on, they’re also for feeding whatever babies a man and woman have together…you can untie me if you’d like. I promise, I won’t move a muscle until you want me to. I want to help you understand this, it’s an important life lesson that your mother is wrong for not telling you about.’ Rapunzel considered this, he hadn’t been fighting against her despite him being able to hurt her in his lap so, why not?

She hopped up and began untying Aemond from her hair but once she did, he did not move at all other than to gesture her back onto him.

‘No, try the other way. Put one knee on either side of my legs, you’ll be able to see me better.’

‘Oh…that’s smart!’ She smiled and Aemond wanted to see that smile on her face everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her smile up at him while his cock is buried into her virgin tight cunt for the rest of his days on this Earth.

He couldn’t hold in the groan as she began rubbing his chest so delicately, he was in heaven already and he still knew he could take so much more. ‘Do you need help untying your dress? So that you can compare better, of course.’ She thought for a moment before nodding her head and allowing Aemond to untie the back of her dress and pull it down her arms and all the way to her waist. Her breasts weren’t overly big, they were petite and cute, perfect in Aemond’s eyes, though his cock twitched when he considered what they would look like swollen with milk atop her belly swollen with his child. He was no longer half hard, he was fully erect and leaking against his breeches. ‘Can I show you something?’ She didn’t hesitate to nod this time as her breathing was becoming a bit faster, she was getting excited and that is exactly what Aemond needs, now he just needs to make sure that she’s as wet as she can be.

He leans forward and kisses her chest between her breasts before pressing his jaw to her skin and hearing her gasp at the scratchy sensation against her sensitive skin which was instantly made stronger as he moved over her nipple. ‘Oh God! Do-D-Do that again! Please?!’ She whined and Aemond chuckled, doing as she asked and as he did her hips moved against her will making her feel something against her Kitty. She was going to ask what it was but all thought flew from her brain as Aemond wrapped his lips around her other nipple and suckled gently. ‘Ah-Oh! Aemond that feels…it-‘ her hips were grinding down on him once again but she didn’t care anymore, the sensation rising in her belly felt too good to stop. ‘Don’t stop! Please?! I-I need…’ Aemond wrapped one of his arms around her waist, adjusting his hips and began helping her grind down on his length harder as he licked over her sensitive nipple, sucking even harder and twisting the other between his fingers roughly. She threw her head back as she came, her body shaking at the intense orgasm but Aemond kept up his attentions on her until she came back down.

‘That felt good, didn’t it?’ She nodded, face now in his neck as she breathed heavily. ‘It made you feel good right down here.’ He stated, cupping her pussy and making her whimper at his attention. ‘This is your cunt, or your pussy, and it is so special…do you know why?’ She shook her head as she sat back again to look at him. ‘It’s special because it can make you and the man you love feel so amazingly good.’

‘How do I know if I love a man, Aemond?’ He smirked, unable to help feeling successful at this moment.

‘That really good feeling I just gave you?’ She nodded. ‘That means I love you, it means you are the only girl in the world for me. Now if you can make me feel like that too then that means you love me. It would mean that we are meant to be together…does that make sense?’

‘Yes…what should I do to make you feel good?’ She asked him and he took hold of her legs and lifted her against him, moving them both over to the couch and laying her down.

‘I just moved you here so that it will be more comfortable for you, I don’t want my Princess in unnecessary pain, do I?’ Her eyes widened and she smiled before shaking her head. ‘I’m going to show you the biggest difference between a man and women, alright?’ He sat back on his knees between her legs and unhooked his belt before pulling his pants down enough for his cock to slap against his stomach and he saw her eyes widen as she looked at it. ‘You can touch it if you want to, just be gentle.’ She sat up a bit and reached out to wrap her hand around it making his head fall back as he groaned. ‘This is my cock, and it’s very sensitive. You can make it feel so good for me just like I made you feel.’

‘Show me how! I wanna make you feel good too Aemond.’

‘Such a sweet girl you are, fuck! You can make it feel good just stroking it if you want, or you can put it in your mouth and suck on it, that feels incredible.’ He stopped her from moving to put her mouth on him making her pout which he found adorable. ‘The thing that makes a man’s cock feel best though, is when it’s inside a tight little pussy like yours.’ Her eyes widened in surprise before looking back at his cock.

‘I don’t think that will fit Aemond…’

‘Of course it will pretty girl.’ He promised, laying her back and kissing her cheek gently. ‘I love you, and you love me, I already know it. Now I’m gonna make the both of us feel really good, okay? Do you trust me?’ She hesitated a moment before realizing that she does which prompted her to nod her head. ‘That’s my good girl. Now this is going to be uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even a tad bit painful but I promise it will pass quickly, alright? Then you will feel nothing but pleasure.’

‘Okay…I trust you.’ There’s a small part of his brain that feels a bit bad taking advantage of her like this but if he didn’t then someone else would and they would probably be 10x worse than him. He’s going to make her feel good for the rest of her life, and she’s going to give him all the pleasure and babies he could ever want. It’s worth it any way you look at it.

‘Just relax for me.’ He instructed as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside, pressing his cock against her hole and pushing into her gently. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly and taking her mind off of the discomfort. She kissed back happily, following his lead and eventually he felt her relax. ‘There you are pretty girl.’ He pulled his hips back, pushing into her again slowly which made her whine as it clearly felt good. ‘Such a good girl, letting me fuck your little pussy. So fucking good Princess!’ He moaned as he rocked back and forth, picking up the pace a bit at a time before she was a panting, mewling mess as he drilled his cock in and out of her as hard as he could. ‘You feel so good for me baby, making my cock feel so fucking good! Such a good girl!’

‘Don’t stop, please? Feels-ah! Never want you to stop…’ she whined, pulling his head down to kiss her again which he happily did.

‘Gonna fuck you like this all the time Princess. All day every day, this pussy was made for me! Your body was made for me, made to take my cock! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Gonna fill you up so good baby!’

‘C-cum?’ She mumbled and he just grunted as he buried his face into her neck.

‘Cum, remember how good you felt before? That was cumming. Gonna cum inside you, fill you up so deep! You’ll never want to be empty again, and I’ll never leave you without my cum.’ He could feel her pussy squeezing around him suddenly as she cried out and he fucked her through it before thrusting harder and making her look up at him. ‘Tell me what you want.’

‘I want you to cum…want you to cum in me and feel so good!’

‘Tell me…tell me you want me to put a baby in you!’ He grunted, so close and desperate to hear her say it, knowing she would do anything he said at this point.

‘Yes! Fill me up! Put a baby in me, please? Want your babies!’

‘Oh Fuck! FuckFuckFuck!’ He pushed his cock as deep into her cunt as he could physically get before he came, shooting everything he had up into her womb. ‘Good girl, gonna have my babies. God, I love you Princess-fuck!’

‘I love you too Aemond…you feel so good…’

‘That’s right Princess. You’re all mine now, all fucking mine.’

Aemond “Tangled” Moodboard

Aemond T. Masterlist

[haine-kleine]

i thought the ending couldn't be more disappointing and then this japanese tweet proved me wrong

because all of this is true. Ochako and Izuku will never forget Toga and Tenko and half of their epilogue was about this, however messily done. Ochako dedicated herself to creating better conditions for people like Toga, because she saw how badly Toga was suffering and despite failing to save her and give her a brighter future, she committed to building that future on her own, selflessly gifting it to others. Izuku had failed to save Tenko despite wanting to, and this weights on his conscience eight years later, and will continue to haunt him in the form of Shigaraki's ghost watching him, not letting him forget himself in the happy ending of joining his hero classmates and achieving his dream.

it's still messy and unfaithful as fuck, but at least these two endings still show that the consequences were there. the unfair deaths of the villains weren't simply swept under the rug and forgotten after a few sad talks about them.

and the thing these two cases share in common? Ochako and Izuku really didn't owe it to Toga and Shigaraki to save them. they didn't. they were hero kids thrown in the middle of the war these very villains waged on them. they both were younger than their respective villains, they both were hurt by these villains, they had no prior history with them, and having shared a few conversations was enough to make them emphasize with and humanize the villains. nothing that happened to Himiko and Tenko was inflicted on them by Ochako and Izuku, and yet just seeing that, hearing about that was enough to ignite sympathy in their hearts. because, you know, they are heroes. they are there to save people from suffering. and even when those people are the ones actively hurting them and their friends, they are mature enough to set that aside and attempt to save their human lives.

enter the star of the show, the only character in this story who despite having committed truly villainous acts, is allowed to go consequences free without a single care in the world. Enji. the person who had single-handedly fucked Touya up to the point his mental state was too messed up even for AFO to deal with. he had given life to this baby, and he was constantly made aware of how badly his attitude is affecting this child by Rei. and he couldn't be bothered to do anything for him, not even to look at him. the fire on Sekoto was 100% Enji's fault, not only because he couldn't be bothered to come visit his son on his day off when Touya had asked him to, but also because the number two hero on his day off was too slow to come to the forest near his house to save Touya from the fire or from All for One. this makes Touya being kept under AFO's care for the following 3 years Enji's responsibility, as he was the only one who could have saved Touya from AFO. even after Touya wakes up from his coma and immediately runs to his house as fast as he can, it's Enji's behaviour alone that makes him decide against making his presence known to the family for the following 7 years. this excuse of a father can't even mourn the death of a son he explicitly blames himself for in such way that won't make his entire existence feel meaningless to him.

and after Touya reveals himself to Enji personally as Dabi? he proves that he still hasn't changed at all and utterly fails to do anything about the situation while Shouto has to repeatedly remind him of it. not only was he procrastinating, the narrative was coddling him the entire time, with the support of other heroes and sidekicks, who despite being shown the truth about Enji, choose to ignore it. even the family he has been abusing for years, the family who was mourning Touya together, joins their efforts to support Enji.

Touya's only desires were to be seen and to be heard. both went unanswered, as after showing the world the unfiltered truth of the misery his father had caused to him, the world covered their earths and turned away. after showing himself to his family, they keep looking at Enji, not at him.

even at the very end, the end of the family's hell is more about Enji than about any other character. he is the only one allowed to talk about his feelings in depth, while the rest of them are reduced to barebone imitations of their previously established characters used as props for supporting Enji's character resolution (with the exception of Touya, who is physically unable to speak for longer than 5 minutes a day anymore. wow). even Natsuo cutting off Enji is less about the latter being a horrible excuse of a father and more about Enji's great stoicism accepting everything the family throws at him with a heroic face. Rei's character no longer makes sense because exactly a month ago her mental state and the trauma inflicted on her by this very man didn't allow her to face him at all. and now she is suddenly okay with becoming his caretaker? why is she taking her responsibility for Touya and not talking about Enji's responsibility at all? this was a man who had abused her so badly she had a psychotic episode. you don't just shrug off things like this. you don't sit in a psychiatric ward for ten years after that, waiting to be let out and jump on the first chance of making yourself useful for your abuser. you don't set aside the relationships with the children he had hurt and he had made you hurt to devote yourself fully to your damn abuser. someone take this poor woman out of this Stockholm syndrome relationship.

at this point Touya not being allowed to die is the worst offence, because the survival wasn't granted to him to heal. it was given to him for the singular purpose of making Endeavor look slightly less bad. Enji never even talks about failing to save Touya (and neither is Shouto allowed to). if you wanted to save him, then him being stuck immobile and isolated from the world with only months left to live is not 'the time Shouto gave us with him' it's a failure. he's not your damn pet, why is the narrative making him into one?

Touya had wanted to die. Shouto points this out, Touya himself talks about it. Enji was the one who didn't want him to die. he also didn't want to die himself. somehow, his desire is the only one that is fulfilled, while even Shouto's dream of eating soba with his older brother goes ignored.

and afterwards? Enji happily moves on from this with the new family he had found for himself, while Touya's childhood desire of his family looking at him is fulfilled in the most grotesque way possible. and the family's dream of having a home away from Endeavor? not a chance lmao

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 11

Part 11:

Liana could easily say she would pay thousands of dollars to fly home on another day. But obviously she didn't have thousands of spare dollars, and the ones who bought her the plane tickets were her parents, along with Art's parents. Of course, seating them side by side the entire way from Stanford home.

Most of the semester she managed to avoid him. From time to time she would feel a scrutinizing gaze on her and knew it was Art, but every time she looked up to tell him to go fuck himself, their eyes didn't meet.

Now she has to spend several hours on the plane next to him, with both of them remembering the last time they flew together and she fell asleep on his shoulder. Both know she doesn’t plan on sleeping a single moment on this flight. There’s no way that in a moment of weakness, she will touch Art Donaldson by choice ever again.

Liana's leg shook uncontrollably, causing Art to sigh. He wanted to pull out one of her earbuds and tell her she could relax and that he wouldn’t bite her (no matter how much he wanted to). At this stage, he already thought it was ridiculous. Months have passed, and she acted as if he didn’t exist when they both knew that if they just talked about it, this horrible period would be behind them.

"I bought the snack you like with the jam." He couldn’t resist and pulled out one of her earbuds. His hand brushed her cheek for a second. If he were a stronger man, he wouldn’t have done it. But even if Art Donaldson is strong in most areas of life, he is very weak when it comes to Liana Levy.

"Can I have it back, please?" She asked with a coldness that never characterized her. Even before Stanford, when they were younger, and she tried to make him think she didn’t want any connection to him, she wasn’t cold. She would roll her eyes, go into tantrums, and distance herself as much as she could. She was never indifferent to him. He feared this indifference like a sheep fears a lion.

He put the earbud in her hand and left his hand on hers. She let him for a moment, and he closed his eyes, relishing the touch that lasted exactly three seconds until she recovered and moved away from him as much as she could. As if he might infect her with an incurable disease.

She took the snack he bought for her. Because if there’s one thing to say about Liana, it's that she can't give up her manners, and even when she’s furious with him to the core, she will do this small act to please him. It made his heart ache and kept him silent for the rest of the flight.

Again, like in a déjà vu feeling, her father was waiting for them, and they got into the car. "Liana, even if Mom acts coldly, it's not because she's angry. Okay?" Her father suddenly said, and Liana blushed. Art examined her as she shrank into her seat. "Can we talk about this at home?" She asked quietly, embarrassed by the direction of the conversation. "No, because Mom is at home, and Art is practically family. Right, kiddo?" Her father smiled at him through the mirror. God, how he loved her father and the small window he opened for him into her life. "Anyway, she almost completely fine with everything, and she even wanted to call a few days ago to ask how you were doing." Her father continued. Art didn’t know something had happened between Liana and her mother. "How long has it been like this?" He suddenly asked, his voice much more confident when her father was in the car because he knew Liana wouldn’t complicate the situation. Especially if she’s already in some kind of fight with her mother. "Since the day we talked about London, probably. The day Li flew back to Stanford." If her father could, he would give Art her entire life story at any given moment. He really loved Art as if he were the son he never had.

Art started connecting the dots; That’s the reason she came to him as soon as she landed that day. That’s the reason she seemed so shaken, and that’s the reason he thought she had been crying. She and her mother fought that day. A fight big enough not to speak again for months. And instead of supporting her and insisting on knowing what happened, Art made that day even worse.   The thought that Patrick was going to erase him from her life sharpened at that moment. He knows Patrick would’ve read the situation better. He knows Patrick wouldn’t have acted the way he did that night. Art knows Patrick is selfish in every aspect of his life, except for Liana. While Art happens to be the most selfish when it comes to Liana.

Despite Art’s grandmother ruining all her birthdays throughout her life, Liana loved her as if she were her own grandmother. That’s how she found herself in a car with Art Donaldson, on the way to her nursing home. Because she couldn’t leave the country without seeing her, and Art... well, he heard about it from his parents and said he would drive her because he also wanted to see his grandmother. And once again, only Liana knew that Art was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

"Are we really not going to talk the whole drive?" Art asked. He was dressed nicer than usual and smiling more than usual. On another day, Liana would have found his smile charming, but the last two weeks at home had been filled with silent fights between her and her mother, who probably wouldn’t forgive her in her lifetime. Right now, Liana wanted to wipe the smug smile off Art's face with a slap. But she wasn’t a violent person, so she simply turned up the radio and looked out the window. "Are you planning anything for your birthday?" Art asked, turning the radio back down to its original volume.

"Tell me, is this a mental illness? Are you bipolar or something?" she retorted, only causing his dimple to become more pronounced. "These are really concerning mood swings, I recommend you check it out and really shut up for the rest of this trip that I don’t even know why you joined. You can visit your grandma literally any other day and not with me like a psychopath." She mumbled the last part, causing Art to chuckle.

"Is it amusing to you, Arthur?" she asked, genuinely unable to read the person in front of her. A person whom just a few months ago her instincts betrayed her and made her think she knew all about him.

"It amuses me that you're trying so hard to hate me, Li, instead of taking a moment and talking to me." He said with feigned calmness. Art knew he was getting close to the point where Liana wouldn’t be able to resist and would just spill everything that was on her mind. He knew that from the moment it happened, it would be easier for him to deal with her. He knew that from the moment she started showing him she was angry at him and not ignoring him as if he didn’t exist, he would be able to turn things back.

Maybe not to Christmas when she was completely his, but before, when she looked at him and really saw him. When she cared for him because he was sick. When she came to some of his practices. When she was an inseparable part of his day. If she'll leave when she was at that point again, maybe Patrick won’t be able to take over what remained of her feelings for him. Maybe he'd have a chance to be in her life.

"You’re delusional." She muttered, turning up the radio again. "You look beautiful today. All this to impress my grandmother? You know she already loves you." He turned it down again, still amused. Liana sighed and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very long drive.

"Jessica, you look amazing!" Liana said and hugged Art’s grandmother. His heart filled in a way he didn’t know it could. How did he never notice? How did he not notice how much attention Liana paid to such an important figure in his life? And so for a few hours, they sat and played cards and Scrabble with his grandmother and her two friends, and they listened to gossip about the seniors at the nursing home. Liana was so good. So attentive. So present.

"Lia," his grandmother started when the three of them were left alone, "at your wedding, I won't be there, but say a few words about me so that Art’s grandfather hears from his grave and gets jealous." She tossed it out casually. As if everything in this scenario was self-evident; It was clear to her they would get married, it was clear to her she wouldn't be there, and it was clear to her that her deceased husband would hear.

Art chuckled quietly, watching Liana and seeing how red she was. Even her ears had changed color.

"Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll talk about you the whole event." If he had been less smug about everything, he would have shut up. But he couldn’t stop himself. He had to see if he could make her blush even more. If there was another button he could press to make her release what she had against him, so eventually he could get back into her life.

"When Art gets married, Jessica, you’ll be there and hold his hand. And at my wedding, you’ll be the guest of honor." Liana said, trying to steady her voice. Art chuckled. The shameless bastard just chuckled. The look Liana shot at him would have killed any sane person. But Art didn’t consider himself very sane at that moment, and certainly not someone who feared an angry look from Liana Levy.

"She’s dismissing you, Arthur. What are you doing about it?" His grandmother looked amused by Liana’s embarrassment and Art’s feigned indifference. "Don’t worry, Grandma, I’m on it," he smiled and hugged her.

"Lia, promise me you’ll keep calling me even when you’re far away and fall in love in Europe," Jessica looked at her with a penetrating gaze. "Yes, Lia, promise her." Art said, causing her to look at him for a moment. At this stage, he wasn’t sure he would survive the day, but it would probably be a sweet way to die. "Jessica. If until now I’ve called once a week, without missing, nothing will change that." Liana hugged her again, and they moved towards the car.

"You're calling my grandma once a week?" Art didn’t know this. Why didn’t anyone tell him this? He wanted to scream. Since they were kids, Art was sure he wanted to be much closer to Liana than she wanted to be. And that was fine, he got used to the piercing looks, sarcastic words, and eye rolls. Stanford changed that. Stanford made them equals. They saw each other in the same way. They wanted to be close in the same way. They were in each other’s space. For him, Liana's change happened at Stanford. The change happened this year. And then he discovered things like this. He discovered that Liana was calling his dying grandma once a week and helping her pass the time.

"Can you fucking answer me?!" He raised his voice. He didn’t want to raise his voice. But his patience for the silent treatment, his punishment, had run out. He felt like a little boy who was told to stand in the corner for four months and expected not to explode.

"Arthur-" she sounded bored when he cut her off. "Art." He said firmly and made a sharp U-turn on the highway, driving in the opposite direction of their home. "What the fuck?! Art! Where are you going?" she asked, a bit scared by his change in approach. He didn’t answer her and continued driving until he stopped in a place empty of people, surrounded by sand with no building in sight.

"Where are we, Art?!" she asked for the umpteenth time.

Art got out of the car and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, hearing her get out too. "I'm not joking with you. Take me home. Now!" She crossed her arms under her chest, and he approached her, invading her personal space.

Liana managed to see his eyes up close for the first time in months. They were filled with tears. Her initial instinct was to reach out a hand to his cheek, but she restrained herself from moving. Their breathing was heavy as they examined each other. Art's first tear fell on his cheek.

Every bone in Liana's body screamed at her to hug him. Every internal and external limb of hers burned with the need to ease his pain. But she knew he didn’t deserve it. She knew that whatever was happening now, Art deserved to feel it.

"Please, Liana." He mumbled. His voice was broken. This wasn’t how Art planned this day. He planned to dress nicely, drive to his grandma’s, remind Liana of all the things he was good at. Remind her that he was much more kind than he was mean. Instead, he was crying. Instead, he was looking at her and realizing that in a few days she would leave, and maybe he would never feel the same way for anyone else. Maybe he didn’t want to feel all these emotions for anyone else. Maybe only with Liana could he feel so much.

Art slowly dropped to his knees. Not taking his eyes off Liana. Her breathing became even heavier, and her eyes filled with tears too. She had never seen such a thing. A person willing in the middle of the street to drop to their knees before another person, while in tears.

"Art, get up..." she mumbled, wanting to look around to see that no one was coming, but afraid to take her eyes off the scene before her. Her instinct won this time, and she placed both her hands on the sides of his face, wiping away the endless tears, while Art, like an addict to the feeling, leaned into the warm and gentle touch with his eyes closed.

"Do you even know what you did to me?" she asked, and he opened his eyes, looking at her with longing. With a desire to absorb everything she had to say to him. "You ruined me, Art Donaldson. You broke me." She said, and he stood up slowly. "I'm sorr-" he started, and her hand found his cheek with force. Liana wasn’t a violent person. Liana is not a violent person. "You have no right to ask for forgiveness." She stated. "That was the first time I slept with someone, Art." Her voice sounded like the cry of a wounded animal. "Did you think about what such a formative experience would do to my sex life? Did you think about the trust issues I would have? That I would never be able to trust anyone like I trusted you?" She cried so hard she couldn’t resist his embrace while his crying intensified.

"I will never be able to behave the way I behaved with you. You used me to get back at Patrick. You used me to win a competition only you participated in." She pushed him a bit away from her, and they stood facing each other again, both trying to breathe. After a few minutes of this, silence and piercing looks, Art dropped to his knees again, and Liana looked everywhere but at him. With the last of her strength, she tried to resist the magnetic pull Art Donaldson has on her. "Li, look at me." His broken voice commanded her without commanding, he couldn’t command anything for anyone. He was on his knees for her. "You're pathetic." She said. Without blinking. She never talked like that to anyone. All he could do was nod and hug her leg while she looked up at the sky, again with tears in her eyes, running a finger through one of his curls. "I will be good. I promise." He said what he demanded from her every time they were intimate with each other. Their gazes crossed once more, "I will be good even when you’re not here. I will be good for you."

HEYYYYYYYYY How are we doing with that gap of 2 days? I hope it was worth the wait. I hope that you're not getting tired of this story yet 'cause I'm still obsessed with them all, but I don't want you guys to feel like I'm dragging the entire thing. Patrick and Liana are going to London in the next part. Who's excited??? You're always welcome to the comments or the ask box and have a chat with me. also, taglist is open if you want :)

taglist: @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[hamliet]

Less of a question but I was never an avid manga reader till 2019 and mha was the first manga I kept track of weekly, and I read Tokyo ghoul after it ended, and seeing everyone be dissatisfied with how Tokyo ghoul ended after keeping up weekly is something I’m reminded of after seeing the latest chapter of mha. So this is what it feels like to witness 6 years of a character you hold in high regard be undermined(to put it lightly). I’m rather sad, but I can’t help but feel fondness for shigaraki even if the way he ended wasn’t satisfying, how do u feel about how mha has gone?

Yeah it does feel very reminiscent of Tokyo Ghoul in that they just went "ah yes, killing the right people is actually how we solve world issues." Which I find morally reprehensible, but also genuinely bad writing because the story as a whole doesn't support this message.

@linkspooky explained in her meta yesterday why Deku has completely failed as a character, and why the manga has failed thematically as a story. I'm just gonna say I completely agree with Link.

To be fair, I'm not sure Shigaraki is dead dead, but either way, it's bad writing and it doesn't conclude his arc with any sort of satisfactory element. Like, why would Shigaraki see Deku as different than anyone else who tried to punch him? That's nonsensical and written from the POV of an audience, not from Shigaraki's POV. It's like in Star Wars when Rey calls herself "Rey Skywalker" when she knew Luke for 3 days and none of the people she was actually close to (Leia, Han, Ben) were Skywalkers. That's writing for the audience, with their perspective, ignoring the logic of your story. It defies believability because the character does not have that perspective. It's "forced" because the audience can see the hand of the author.

If Shigaraki is dead dead... Not gonna Star Wars this one again, but since I also hated the ending of The Rise of Skywalker, I must make a comparison. The idea that Deku may have saved Shigaraki's heart but couldn't save his body (which to be honest, nothing in the actual chapter supports, but if he stays dead might be the argument) is still bad writing. Why? Because to Shigaraki didn't even make the decision himself. He didn't sacrifice anything. How can his heart be saved if he had nothing to do with it? Saving an object is easy as pie. Saving a person is different, and that's what the whole story has been about. Like, in TROS, Kylo Ren gave his life for Rey! Was it stupid? Yes! But at least his "saved heart" did something. Shigaraki's saved heart did what exactly?

So then, is the message that Deku failed? Then why isn't it framed as a failure? Why was BNHA never set up to be a grimdark tragedy? If he failed, then shouldn't he have a miserable ending? Unless it's "heroes always become bad guys and life is unfair," but then shouldn't Deku be framed critically?

Basically, Horikoshi can't come back writing-wise from this in BNHA, and it's sad to see.

Horikoshi's biggest flaw throughout the entire story was that he kept flip-flopping on what he wanted to say, and made the characters more about his trying to please every single fan than about being, well, characters to explore important questions he has that are worthwhile. And you can do this while still having a "cool" factor!

Instead the characters tell us one thing while cocooning Deku in the sweet bliss that no one ever has on this earth--being 100% right all the time. And it's sad, because BNHA had so much potential as a story to challenge its audience and entertain too.

I thought even if it flopped in some aspects it'd at least get this right. It's disappointing.

Anyways every day that goes by I want to send Isayama and his editors flowers for actually writing a thematically coherent ending, even if some aspects were dropped or messy along the way.

[beezusvreeland]

dear reader - chapter 8

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

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Chapter 8

Miguel tried to make as little noise as possible while he moved through the kitchen trying to figure out what to cook for dinner. You were asleep on the couch, mouth slightly opened and body curled to the side. Before getting up from the floor, Miguel spent a few minutes observing your sleepy figure breathing in and out. He was mesmerized by how relaxed you looked. It was so rare to see you like this. Always the one taking care of everything and everyone, including him. How was Miguel realizing that just now? The two of you had been friends for so long. 

In fact, your restlessness had been something Miguel and the boys regularly used to tease and poke fun at you. “Just relax, darling”, Hobie would say, and they would go on insinuating that having a more active sex life could make things better for you. You would roll your eyes at them and say: “I’m not taking advice from a bunch of manwhores. Except you, Pav, you are a gentleman”. 

Sometimes Miguel would keep at it, just to see how far he could go, what it would take for you to break. He didn’t mean any harm by it, he just got a kick out of watching you, always so proper and poised, losing your composure. Your cheeks turning red, lips pouting and your speech getting faster and confusing the more bothered you felt. It was funny then. 

But things have changed since Miguel started reading your column. Or rather, his perception of you. There was so much more to you. It was fascinating to learn more about the way you saw the world, with so many nuances and big feelings and the way you were able to express it through your writing. How could one be so sensitive and articulate at the same time? If the therapy sessions with doctor Octavius taught him anything, it was the fact that discussing feelings and analyzing his own memories and actions was extremely hard. Probably one of the hardest things Miguel has ever done.

In his science and objectivity brain, he thought therapy would be like any other doctor’s appointment: get in, talk about what’s wrong, get a prescription and get out. Doctor Octavius very patiently explained that his practice worked with a different approach. 

“Our process isn’t fast or linear. I can’t tell you how long it will take, it’s different for each patient. Some people come in for a few sessions and feel like that’s enough, others have been in therapy for their entire lives”, the doctor explained. “What I can tell you with certainty is that this is a safe space for you to express yourself. It’s an hour of the week all to yourself, without phones, notifications or other people’s demands. And you are free to leave and never come back if you feel that this method doesn’t make sense to you. But I hope you at least give our dynamic a chance.”

He did. There were only a handful of people in his life that he actually liked and doctor Octavius was becoming one of them. Also, Miguel didn’t have any more energy to try and find someone new. That’s why Lyla would work with him for the rest of his life, if it was up to him. She just got it. And he really appreciated that.

For the first time in his life, he was revisiting his childhood. Miguel and his younger brother, Gabriel, were raised by a single mother who overworked herself to get food on the table. There wasn’t time to discuss emotions, anything other than survival felt trivial. She did the best she could, he knew that now. But when he won his first science fair, in second grade, the young boy became addicted to the attention and praise he got from classmates and adults. Over the years, Miguel realized that if he kept focused on school, winning scholarship after scholarship, things would be better, there were so many other opportunities out there. 

And he got them, while distancing himself from his origins, reinventing himself. Now that he achieved the things he wanted the most, like the cars, the house in an expensive neighborhood and the big office with a leather couch, it all just felt…empty. 

“Miguel?”

You enter the kitchen with a yawn, scratching your eyes. The power was still out and the house was poorly lit by the moon and a big flashlight Miguel found in his basement. 

“Gosh, that was one hell of a nap”, you stretched your arms up. “It might enter my top 3 list of best naps I’ve ever had.”

“I can tell by the drool on your mouth.”

Your hand immediately went to your mouth. There was nothing there. 

“Ha-ha.”

“That was too easy”, Miguel grinned, pleased with how rested you looked and that this interaction felt more like the ones the two of you used to have. It was familiar, comforting even. Like the scent of the vanilla soap his mom used to wear or the two friendly slaps Hobie would give his back every time they met. 

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. 

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Cheese, bread and olives”, he said. “Don’t look at me like that, without electricity the options were very limited.”

“I’m honestly shocked that you actually eat bread and cheese. Doesn’t that offend your gym diet or whatever?”

“We all have guilty pleasures, cariño, mine happen to be carbs and Gossip Girl.”

Your lack of response alerted Miguel of what he had just said. Nobody knew about his recent obsession with the show beyond Lyla. What if you somehow connected the dots that he started watching it after reading your column? What if you actually found out he read your column? He wasn’t supposed to know that you were the one behind “Dear reader”. 

“Wait, what?”, a smile took over your face. “Did I just hear it right?”

His body relaxed with your amusement. Maybe it would be better for him just to admit and run with it. 

“I hate Serena van der Woodsen”, Miguel declared. 

“I don’t even know how to react to this revelation”, you leaned on the counter for support, expression still stunned and amused. “How did this even happen?”

“She slept with her best friend’s boyfriend, disappeared, then came back like nothing happened, always runs away from conflict and every single time she speaks like talking to other people was exhausting and…”

“Okay, obviously there is a lot to unpack here”, you grabbed the cheeseboard on top of the counter and gave it to Miguel, who started to cut the cheese. “How do you even know what Gossip Girl is?”

He freezed for a second.

“Did Lyla put you to it?”, you chuckled. “What can’t she do?” 

“Sí…it was Lyla. I lost a bet”, it was the best he could come up with at that moment.

You nodded, smirking. 

“So you hate Serena, huh? Who else do you hate?”

Miguel put the knife on the sink and turned to you.

“Who don’t I hate? They’re terrible, all of them, Chuck, Dan, Vanessa, the parents…”

You laughed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

“That’s what makes them so entertaining, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, you got a point, cariño”, he stopped for a moment and added: “I do like Dorota, though”. 

“Blair’s maid?”

“She is not just a maid, she is basically a mother figure for Blair.”

“Dorota is also in most of Blair’s schemes…”

“Nuh-uh, cariño. Most times she tries to put some sense in that girl’s head.”

You frowned your brows, smiling. 

“I can’t believe this is a conversation we’re actually having. When did you go soft, mr. O’Hara?”

“I’m not soft.”

“Uh, yes you are. You’re a big soft softie, defending characters of a TV show made for teens that ended a decade ago”, you mocked.

Miguel gave you a serious look. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me, my friend”, you pretended to lock your mouth with an imaginary key. 

Opening it again with the same imaginary key, you added: “But in case I’m ever offered a lot of money to sell any of your secrets to a corporate spy, this is the one I’m going to choose”.

“I forgot you started hallucinating when you get hungry, cariño.”

“Just think about it, they’ll think they’re stealing sensitive data from your research at Alchemax, but it’s actually just a sheet ranking the Gossip Girl characters you hate from most to least hated.”

“Why can’t you just be angry when hungry like most people?”

“It’s a brilliant plan, you’ll be thanking me someday. Hopefully at the IgNobel ceremony. You’ll have to take me to that, by the way.”

“You know it’s the Nobel prize, right?”

“Yes yes, I’m not stupid, I’m just hungry”, you give his shoulder a playful slap. “The IgNobel is another science award, but for more…unusual findings. Studies about the brain chemistry of people who see Jesus on toasts or a theory that humans developed beards to protect themselves from getting punched on the face?

“Cariño, Jesus…”

“Do you see him on toast too?”

“Enough weird science, let’s eat.”

“I’ll send you the link, it happens every year and it’s actually really funny. I’m sure Alchemax could send some stuff for consideration.”

Miguel actually laughs at that. He pretended to hate your energy bursts, but he loved it. You were a sweet drunk and a funny hungry person. 

“You know what? I might actually look into it.”

Miguel brought the cheeseboard to the living room and opened a red wine that, judging by the label, was probably very expensive. You sat on the floor and toasted, then started eating. 

It felt nice. Just to be there eating good food with you and enjoying a comfortable silence. And you looked so pretty with your new haircut and eyes closed while savoring the meal…

A loud sound made the two of you jump. An electronic song started playing from somewhere in the room.

“Shit, it’s my phone”, you got up to find it in your purse.

When you did, you looked at the screen and smiled. 

“I have to take this, I’ll be right back”, you said, going to the next room. 

The little bubble you lived in for a few hours burst. Miguel thought it was a little weird, you had a tendency to forget your phone completely while spending quality time with your friends. Maybe it was a work thing or your family checking in with you after the storm. 

It had been a few minutes since you left when he started to feel uneasy. He got his phone from his pocket. A few texts in the friends’ group chat and one from Lyla:

ARE YOU ALIVE??????!

Sí, he answered, knowing that she hated monosyllabic answers. 

But it had been ten minutes then and he had reorganized the cheese on the board, drank more wine and stretched his body and you still hadn’t come back.

I’m at my place with y/n.

I KNEW IT, SHE IS THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN PINING FOR!!! AAAA

No, just friends

OH, PLEASE, MIGUEL, IF I WERE STUPID YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HIRED ME

Qué

UGH REALLY?

PENDEJO

Don’t use my language against me

OH I WILL IF THAT’S WHAT MAKES YOU LISTEN TO REASON

…

YOU CAN’T JUST THROW THE INFO THAT YOU’RE TOGETHER AND LEAVE ME HERE

Just friends

UGH

IS SHE NEXT TO YOU RIGHT NOW?

No, she’s been on the phone 

It’s been almost 15 minutes now

SHIT

What’s that supposed to mean? 

???

Lyla???

????????

Damn it, Lyla!!!! 

SHE PROBABLY HAS A BOYFRIEND AND I’M GUESSING IT ISN’T YOU

Nonsense

FOR THE FIRST TIME YOU’LL HAVE TO WORK FOR IT

IN THE DATING DEPARTMENT

…

KEEP ME INFORMED 

***

Dear reader,

Intimacy can mean different things for each person. It’s something that, as women, we start building with one another since childhood. We all remember our very best friends, who we shared moments and secrets that we remember to this day. Or that one girl in middle school that we were friends with for only a few months that might as well have been years, because it caused a huge impact on us. They taught me how to be vulnerable and resilient. In many ways, those friendships were my first loves. 

Recently, my editor sent me an infographic with data about you, dear readers. Nothing creepy, just things like age range and general location, you know, information every website collects. I must say, I was surprised to find that 30% of you identify as male. It didn't occur to me that this space would be of interest to you, but I’m glad it is.

Talking about intimacy reminds me of this one guy I was friendly with in college. We met in a class we had together and started talking, which evolved to texting. Our conversations revolved around homework and a sitcom we both watched. To me, it wasn’t something too deep. But to him, it was. He would bring that show up all the time, as if by itself, our one shared interest made us closer than we actually were. Like that was enough for me to fall for him, when he was actually being sort of annoying and creeping me out. 

It never occurred to him to ask questions about me or my other interests. It was all about him and his perception, which was more of a fantasy than anything. No wonder so many women are frustrated in their relationships with men: they can’t match the intimacy we’ve built with each other.

However, things have been changing and women are no longer accepting to be alone in their relationships. I know I’m not. So male readers, if you take anything from this column, I hope it is this: open yourselves up, look beyond yourselves and catch up. We’ve been doing the hard work for a very long time.

That’s it for today. Next week, I’ll be answering a few of your questions, make sure to write to me in the box below. The authors shall remain anonymous and, the hate mail, ignored. 

Until then, never take advice from someone who’s falling apart. 

Love,

The writer

***

You came back to the living room to find Miguel playing a game on his phone. He didn’t look up to you.

“Sorry I took so long, I lost track of time”, you said sitting back on the floor and taking a sip of your glass of wine. 

“It’s alright”, Miguel put his phone away. “Was it work?”

“No”, you giggled. “It was Matt, he was checking if was okay after the storm.”

“Matt?”

Miguel had a confused expression on his face, which, by experience, you knew to be fake. He had been there when Foggy talked about your first date with Matt. Why he was pretending like he didn’t know, you had no idea.

“This guy I’m seeing. You know, Foggy’s friend? The lawyer?”

“Ah, right.”

“Things have been going really well.”

Miguel didn’t say a thing, filling his mouth with cheese instead. 

“He asked me to go to this fancy auction gala with him as his date. I’m excited for it.”

“Sounds like a swell guy.”

“He is.”

“A lawyer, huh? Which firm does he work in?”

“He has his own, actually.”

“Mmm.”

“Mig, what’s going on?”

“What? Nothing, I’m just eating.”

“You looked less than impressed with what I just told you.”

“How was I supposed to react, cariño?”, he sounded annoyed. As much as you told yourself that you were over him, his tone took you back to the worst days of your infatuation with him, when no matter how much you tried to impress him, he would always end up taking somebody else home. 

But the thing is, you were no longer that girl. No matter how hurt you were or how much you liked Miguel, you weren’t taking shit from anyone anymore. 

“You were supposed to be happy for me.” 

Your delivery was calm and serious, which you could see threw Miguel off. “I have an actual shot at love and someone great who’s willing to give it to me. This never happened to me before. I never felt worthy of it”, you took a deep breath. “Why can’t you root for me like I’ve always rooted for you?”

Looking at Miguel, you didn’t find the big hot shot scientist, but rather just a guy who had no idea of what he was doing. 

You got up and went to the bathroom, well aware that you couldn’t be there with him anymore. You couldn’t go backwards and fall apart when Miguel didn’t think highly of you. No matter how much you tried, it just wasn’t going to happen. 

You washed your face and threw some water on your neck to relieve some of the tension. When you opened the door, Miguel was waiting for you. 

“Miguel…”

“I know, I know, cariño, please, just listen to me?”, he asked and you rolled your eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. Of course I’m rooting for you…I guess I’m just protective of you and you haven’t had many boyfriends, so we never really had to go through this…What I’m saying is, I don’t know the guy, so I was suspicious and I shouldn’t be.”

“I’m a big girl, Miguel. I can handle myself”, sensing he was going to interrupt, you continue. “I appreciate your concern, but you can’t use that tone with me ever again. Do you understand?”

“Sí, cariño, lo siento”, he nodded. 

[yes, honey, I’m sorry]

“And if not knowing Matt bothers you so much, I’ll bring him to the bar one of these days and introduce you two.”

“Of course.”

You were emotionally drained. It was like having to explain very basic notions regarding people’s feelings to a big man child. In spite of it, you were proud of yourself for standing your ground and demanding the level of care and respect you deserved. A few months ago that would’ve been impossible.

“Cariño”, Miguel called, his big brown eyes filled with regret. “I just wanted to tell you I…”

He was interrupted by a loud noise, followed by people cheering on the street. The lights were back on.

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<< chapter 7

>> chapter 9

all chapters

masterlist

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dear reader playlist

[whotf-atemywaffles]

Soon You’ll get better (Cause you have to)

Tw: mentions of cancer, vampires, my writing

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader

Summary: A girl named Y/N is battling cancer and meets a boy named Edward Cullen who becomes her only friend. As her condition worsens, Edward decides to turn so they can be together forever. They face the challenges of their new life together and make the most of the time they have left.

Y/N Swan a girl who was dying, she had lived with her father Charlie Swan in the small town of forks in Washington, Forks was one of those places that never really saw the sun, it was constant clouds and rain, but that didnt bother Y/N, her world had been miserable, alwasys had been. when she was a kid it was a constant battle with cancer, then when she turned 12 it was gone… or so she thought.

for a while it was gone till she turned 17, her entire world came crashing down when she found out it had returned. She knew the drill by then, chemo, radiation, and a whole new battle to fight. But this time, she wasn't alone. She met a boy named Edward Cullen, who seemed to be the only one who understood her. He was different from everyone else in Forks, and she was drawn to him.

Edward ended up becoming Y/N’s only friend, in her childhood she never had any since she was always at the hospital, not a lot of kids ever want to spend their free time there when they could be at the park or something, as a result y/n was constantly alone, not that she minded she just didn’t enjoy the feeling of loneliness or emptiness it sometimes provided.

Edward was unlike anyone Y/N had ever met before. He was beautiful, yes, but there was something else about him that drew her in. He was smart, funny, and seemed to understand her in a way that no one else did. As they spent more time together, Y/N found herself falling for him. She tried to fight it at first, knowing that her time was limited, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

Edward, however, was hesitant to get too close to Y/N. He knew the danger that came with being around him and didn't want to put her in harm's way. But as they grew closer, he realized that he couldn't stay away from her. He was willing to risk everything to be with her, even if it meant revealing his biggest secret. but for now he kept that to himself, they had only been friends for a few months, but he knew everythng about her, every thought she had, every fear she had including her biggest one, she was afraid to die. although Edward couldnt exactly feel. in a way he felt bad for his friend.

As Y/N continued her treatments, she felt her strength slowly slipping away from her. But Edward was always there by her side, offering her comfort and support. He would hold her hand during her treatments and make her laugh with his jokes. She cherished every moment with him, knowing that there was a possibility she wouldn't be getting better. Edward herd these thoughts, he knew about every single one of them, they pained him.

when he would get hime he would find comfort in talking to his “Sister” Alice. “She has to get better, she has too, she cant just leave, not like this” He would ramble almost sobbing, well almost he would be if he could cry.

As the weeks went by, Y/N's condition continued to worsen. She was losing weight rapidly and could barely get out of bed. But Edward never left her side. He would stay with her for hours on end, just talking to her and holding her hand.

Y/N knew that her time was running out. She had come to terms with the fact that she was going to die, but it didn't make it any easier. She was scared of what was going to happen to her after she was gone. But she found comfort in the fact that she had Edward by her side.

One night, as Y/N was lying in bed, she turned to Edward and said, "I don't want to die alone." Edward took her hand and said, "You won't. I'll be right here with you."

For the next few days, Y/N's condition continued to deteriorate. She was in so much pain that she could barely talk. But she didn't need to. Edward knew what she was thinking, and he was there for her.

On what was supposed to be her final day, Edward came in as per usual, trying to cheer the dying girl up, he would’ve done anything to accomplish that goal, Painting rooms neon, finding a way to brighten up the sky, anything.

not wanting to say it allowed because he didnt want to make this all about him, but sometimes over the passt few weeks he has been thinking about who is he suppost to talk to? What is he suppost to do? When theres no her… nothing can go back to the way it was…because he had already met her, fell for her…

thats when it hit edward….he knew what he was going to do…Edward knew what he had to do. He couldn't bear the thought of living without Y/N, and he was willing to do anything to keep her by his side. He went to Carlisle, the only one who could help him.

"Please, Carlisle," Edward begged. "You have to turn her. I can't go on without her."

Carlisle looked at Edward with a sad expression. "I know how much you care for her, Edward. But turning her is a big decision. It's not something that should be taken lightly."

"I know," Edward replied. "But I can't lose her. I can't bear the thought of living without her. Please, Carlisle. You have to help me."

After much discussion and consideration, Carlisle agreed to turn Y/N. It was a risky procedure, and there was no guarantee that it would work. But Edward was willing to take that risk.

Carlisle performed the transformation, and Y/N became a vampire. At first, it was a difficult adjustment for her. She struggled to control her thirst and adjust to her new abilities, and the regained strength after all those months. But with Edward by her side, she was able to overcome these challenges.

As time passed, Y/N became more comfortable with her new life. She and Edward continued to stay by each other's side, growing closer with each passing day. They traveled the world together, experiencing all of the wonders that it had to offer.

And even though Y/N knew that she would never be able to have a normal life, she was content with the life that she had. She had found love in the most unexpected of places, and that was all that mattered.

As for Edward, he knew that he had made the right decision. Turning Y/N had been a risk, but it was a risk that had paid off. He was grateful for every moment that they had together, and he was determined to make the most of the time that they had left.

Together, they faced the challenges of the world, knowing that they had each other to rely on. And even though they knew that their time together was limited, they were determined to make the most of it.

[crazy-ache]

I'm not sure if you're still doing those, butttt

Bathtub Fic x Sick/Injured or Scars Fic for Elucien 😁

For you���YES!!

Bathtub Fic & Sick/Injured or Scars

For the scene, I am going to take us to the Winter Court. Perhaps it is a part of their journey to Koschei or to explore her Seer powers—early in the relationship, with the barest shreds of trust between them—and somewhere along the travels, they encounter the infamous hot springs of Winter.

Picture mountains and snow and nuzzled deep within the white, icy forests lay natural hot springs. Lucien has been here of course from his emissary days. He explains the benefits and urges Elain that she simply must try out this particular hidden gem—that there is none like it in all of Pythian. She agrees nervously. And her eyes go wide as she watches Lucien begin to strip off all his clothes.

Elain blushed, turning around instantly. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get my clothes wet in this cold and the hot springs are best enjoyed naturally.” Lucien laughed and she could hear him kick off his shoes and pants behind her. Then the sound of water splashing as he entered, quickly followed by a near moan from Lucien’s lips. “Come on, Elain. It’s incredible. I promise I won’t look, lady. On my honor.”

It’s enough to make Elain bite her lip and consider. It did seem incredible. And she had dreamed of traveling the world her entire life. She couldn’t be a coward now that she was here. “Turn around!” She barked her command, and only once her mate confirmed he was indeed facing the other direction with his eyes closed did she begin to undo her dress, stockings, and boots. Without a single article of clothing, she raced into the water before the shivers overtook her body. And indeed it was amazing. A similar relaxed moan tumbled out of her mouth as she sank into the warm, steamy waters.

They were back to back, because Elain didn’t have the courage to do it any different. To bare herself to him. Not with the amount of desire she secretly harbored inside. Even if the water came up right to the swell of her breasts. But even like this, she could sense his smile. His comfort. They talked leisurely and at length. Now that they were finally spending time together, she was caught off guard by how easily he could make her laugh. It was at one particularly wicked joke that her body curved and her skin made contact with his back.

Immediately she felt the scars. Ridges upon ridges of marks across his back. They both flinched instantly. Elain from the surprise and Lucien no doubt from the sorrow and pain embedded deep with every scar.

There’s no other thought except concern surging through her veins as she whips around, breaking her own rules, to face his back. He is frozen, as if he’s been caught. Shame? Elain can’t stop the gasp as she takes in his whipped back. “Who—how—” She is shaking even if the water is so unnaturally hot, leaving her pale skin red with the heat.

“Punishment when I was Under the Mountain.” He answers. Elain reaches for his back, running her fingers across every single mark. He does not move. There’s so much she can see now. The history like a constellation across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain etched in his skin, one of loyalty and bravery and suffering, so much like the matching one on his eye. She can see the corded muscles taut with restraint. The curve of his ass just below the water’s surface. His long molten, red hair curtained over his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. And she means it. She’s sorry for what happened. The primal, visceral part of the mating bond wants to avenge him. Wants to make it as if it never happened. And she’s sorry for all the distance she had once kept between them, when all he had were these scars to keep him company all this time.

Elain wraps her arms around his middle, fingers gliding over the defined abs of his stomach, one hand grazing against the strong, tone muscle of his chest. She kisses his shoulder, right at one of the scars. The another and another and another.

And maybe, just maybe, she’s working up the courage to spin him around and kiss him elsewhere.

[theunreliablewriter]

Seen

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Insecurities over powers, Kissing

Fluff

Word Count: 853

Request: Hi! Thank you for the opportunity, i would like the following :) Larissa Weems x Reader first day of year school after they become an official couple (teacher-director relationships) can be first day of school after the whole Hyde-Thornhill deal, she (Larissa) would of course be alive. Thank you! You are very kind 💗 - @anazomeg

Author’s Note: Sorry this is short! I haven’t written anything creative in a long time, so I hope it’s okay! Let me know what you think! :)

You had dreamed of this day since you were first dropped off as a new student at Nevermore Academy. Though, almost everyone in your life questioned why.

They would ask, “Why would you want to return to a school of outcasts that made you feel like an outcast?”

And they were right.

During your youth, you were an outcast, and that especially included your years at the boarding school.

Your classmates never bullied you, nor were they ever necessarily rude to you. But you always wondered if that was only because they were afraid of you — afraid of what you could do to them without ever being noticed.

Nevermore had served as the home of numerous powerful beings, but none quite like you. With your power of invisibility, people kept their distance because who knows what you would have done to them over the most mild inconvenience? If they were to become your friend and, someday, angered you, would you retaliate without anyone being able to bear witness?

And this devastated you. You initially had thought they would have found your ability interesting, if not cool. How could they assume the worst by thinking you would use it to harm?

You were born with the ability to go unseen, but never did you truly feel invisible until your first days at Nevermore.

But, now, as your first day as a teacher, you were ready to start anew. And unlike before, you were not doing it alone.

“What if they find me boring?”

“Boring?!” The woman carrying an unbelievable number of boxes scoffed before placing them on your oversized desk. “Why do you think that?”

With a shrug, your gaze fell to the floor, as you quietly responded, “I don’t know. I’m just nervous, I suppose. I want everything to go so well this time.”

The single click of a high heel echoed in the vast room, and that was all it took for the towering woman you still could not believe you had the privilege of calling your significant other to place herself directly in front of you.

You felt the soft skin of her long finger gently push against the bottom of your chin until you were staring upwards into her entrancing blue eyes.

“I insist you listen to me, (Y/N),” Larissa spoke with a firmness to ensure you knew her level of seriousness. Of course, though, as it never was with you, her voice was not at all harsh. “Your time here will be everything you wish it to be and more. I will personally make sure of it.”

“But I don’t want you making it easy for me.”

“Such as how?”

“I don’t know. Scaring the students, whether it’s with those intimidating stares you do so well or making them do detention in the woods at night.”

Larissa laughed, making your heart flutter at the sound you could not get enough of. “I will do no such thing. Your success will be entirely of your own making, and I have not a single doubt you would not even need my help if I offered it. You are a wonderful teacher, my darling. You are of intelligence beyond your years. Your personality is addictive — one that has the ability to make anyone happy within mere moments of being around you. You are fun and naturally hilarious. By the end of the first day tomorrow, I am certain I will be hearing you are countless students’ new favorite teacher.”

Despite the smile already wanting to form on your face, your insecurity from the past could not help but ask, “You don’t think they will be afraid of me?”

Her gaze softened beyond what it already was. Her large hands grasped your face as she brought her own so dangerously close. “Not in the slightest, my sweet girl. Believe me, if they are not frightened by my return after thinking I was dead, and surely, if they are still not terrified of our dear student Wednesday who you will come to know, there is not a chance they will be fearful of you.”

Still mentally battling the countless thoughts trying to tell you otherwise, all you could do in response was nod.

“If anything, they will come to appreciate your powers, if not be amazed by them,” Larissa said to you. Somehow, her face had managed to move even closer than what it already was, allowing you to almost feel her words of, “But never, my love, will anyone be more amazed by you than I am.”

Your lips barely had the opportunity to spilt into a full grin before you quickly closed the remaining space between them and hers.

Rising up onto your tiptoes, your fingers tangled into her perfectly styled hair. And your kiss only continued to deepen as her arms encircled your waist, pressing your body entirely against hers.

With how safe you felt in Larrisa’s embrace, with knowing she would be there for you each and every day, every doubt seemingly evaded your mind in a single second.

Most importantly, with Larissa, you knew you would always be seen.

| Masterlist | Request Information |

[marshmallowprotection]

out of curiosity why do you hc rika as a lesbian? :)

I don't know many people in this fandom who don't headcanon Rika as a lesbian, to be honest with you. In fact, it's been a long time since I've seen anyone write her any other way.

In my eyes, I've always read into Rika as someone who reflected on her sexuality later in life because her traumatic experience with the Catholic church made her bury anything about herself that didn't fit with whatever the church believed (I.E. the Pastor and her Abusive Parents).

How could she think about who she liked when she had to focus on surviving? How could she think about having crushes and having a normal childhood when all she knew was suffering? How could she openly experience crushes when her family would've hurt her for it? Rika knew that openly expressing anything that went against what the church and her abusive parents believed would hurt her. She'd learned to try and keep quiet and stay small, but even that couldn't protect her.

She never thought about her romantic feelings for others growing up. She didn't think she was worthy of love! Had she been able to grow in a safe, warm environment, I think it would've been easier for her to sit down and reflect on her feelings towards other people enough to see that she was sapphic. That she had feelings for girls instead of boys. That she felt like herself around other girls and wanted to explore it more freely.

Rika yearned to be loved her entire childhood, just as much as I think she yearned to love in return.

Rika was taught that she was the devil from a young age, a devil for simply existing as an orphan girl with trauma who could never make the adults who were hurting her happy, and she internalized so much self-hatred because of that. Her experience with love isn't healthy for the most part. She latched onto Jihyun Kim because she wanted the chance to become him. She wanted to be him. Her love for him, in my opinion, wasn't never her being "in love" with him.

Does that mean she didn't love him? No, I do think she loved him in her own way, but I don't think she was in IN LOVE with him.

Rather, Rika was in love with the idea of being in love with Jihyun and in love with the idea of becoming Jihyun. She wanted to love him, at first, especially, she wanted to be in love with him, she wanted a life with him, she wanted everything with him because he felt like a God and a Savior to her life that felt miserable up until that point, but the longer she spent with him, the less it felt like love and the more it felt like obsession.

She was in love with the idea of escaping her demons, and to her, V was her dream. If she could become him, she would no longer be the devil, she would be V, a savior, a sun, a perfect lift that could do not a single thing wrong.

I think it's very easy for a lot of people to look at Rika's story from the perspective of a closeted lesbian who grew up in an abusive Catholic household, who never had the opportunity to think about what she'd like out of life because her family made the decisions for her ahead of time, and anything that deviated from what they wanted would have her face their wrath.

I've had a few friends with the same story as Rika in that sense, they tried to follow the expectation their family set up for them. They tried to force themselves into that role and they were miserable because of that. They kept trying to be someone they weren't, and someone they could never be, and only when they were able to be honest with their feelings and what they knew in their heart, did things start to change for the better in their lives.

You can't force your way into being someone you're not. All you do is make yourself miserable in the process. The world would be a damn better place if we didn't have to deal with homophobia and the effect the Christian church has on young people who are told they will go to hell for simply loving someone. My family did and said a lot of things to me because of my sexuality, before I even understood who I was or my feelings, all because of people using the bible to spout vitriol and hatred.

It's miserable to have to live in hiding growing up, feeling like you have no choice but to hide away to learn and explore your feelings without the fear of someone screaming at you or worse. So, when I think about Rika, myself, and I know many others, look at Rika and find a sense of kinship.

Headcanons are just headcanons, after all. My viewing Rika as a lesbian brings me some comfort and it ain't hurting nobody.

[hyperactivewhore]

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people claim that it’s Marcel’s fault that Klaus was missing from Hope’s life. First of all, Klaus deserved everything he got after all the suffering and trauma he put Marcel through. Marcel is a saint compared to Klaus, who has done unspeakable things not only to Marcel but to thousands of others as well. If Marcel had kept Klaus locked up in a sewer until the world ended he would be more than justified.

Secondly, absolutely no one stopped Klaus from picking up his phone and calling his daughter. No one stopped him from sending birthday cards or Christmas gifts to his daughter. In fact, many people encouraged him to talk to Hope, including Hayley, Caroline, and Hope herself. He was the one who decided not to call Hope. He was the one who decided to cut off all contact with his daughter. He was the one who thought that the best course of action was to go no contact with Hope. But while he had no problem practically abandoning Hope (who was only a child at the time), he continued to seek out his brother knowing that being in close proximity to Elijah could hurt Hope.

So many people try to say Klaus wasn’t a bad father by blaming Marcel, Hayley, Hope, and everyone else in the entire show. But the reality is, Klaus was a bad father because of his actions alone.

And even to the every end of his life, he continued to be a bad father. He chose to flirt with Caroline when Hayley (Hope’s mother - practically Hope’s only parent) was missing and was in grave danger. He chose to spend his last remaining days showing Caroline around New Orleans as if he didn’t have a heartbroken, devastated daughter back at home who was grieving the loss of her mom and preparing for the loss of her dad. This man, who willingly chose not to contact his daughter for years, decided to spend his last remaining hours with his one night stand instead of Hope - and people have that audacity to say that it’s Marcel’s fault that Klaus was missing from Hope’s life?

Don’t get me wrong, I love Klaus. He’s a very interesting character. But I hate it when people justify his actions - especially because they will occasionally vilify Marcel to do so. Marcel and Hope deserved a better father. Marcel and Hope simply deserved better.

I'll never understand why people are surprised Klaus was a shitty father.

Loving your kids is the bare minimum and treating them right is like the least thing you can do, yet Klaus already failed miserably step two with Marcel. Klaus never respected Marcel as a person and let alone as his son, I don't care what people think. He liteally brought Marcel to that bridge in season three to remind him of his slavery, mocked his whip wounds, laid his hands on him in season one, and didn't even care to have a special goodbye with him when he was gonna die.

He literally told Hope she was meant to be broken by him, constantly jeopardized her safety when she was a baby, practically ghosted her most of her life, probably told Hope that Elijah didn't save Hayley, purposefully leaving out he was whoring around with Caroline, and was ignoring her the day he was gonna die choosing to spend his last hours with that same woman, and literally left Hope all in her own after losing her mother like the week before because he couldn't live without his brother.

Marcel had every single right to take revenge against the Mikaelson, and so does Hope. Their supposed family never gave any damn about them and yet people blame everyone but Klaus simply because they think Joseph Morgan is hot.

[lunarmoonanons]

Fire and Salt chp 10

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

The trial for succession takes places, and Viserys defends his daughter. 

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

The throne room was divided quite nicely by the sides of each faction. Blacks and greens. YN stood by her mother’s side, she felt the gaze of Aemond looking over her body and hair. She looked like a princess, a beautiful force of fury and grace. Her black dress hugged her form tightly and her hair framed her face as the strands of curls dangled from her goddess braids. YN glared at her uncle Vaemond, her hand held Rhaena’s; soon she turned violet eyes to stare down the hand who sat upon her grandfather’s seat. Though YN never cared about an “ugly iron chair” she did care about seeing someone who hungered for power sat atop a throne he had no right to. 

Otto droned on about the reasoning for gathering, and how he spoke for the king. YN briefly caught the eye of Aemond, who seemed relieved she did not glare at him. They barely gazed at each other for more than a second, silently asking the other if they could talk when this whole ordeal was over. Soon Vaemond stepped forth to talk and YN looked away from Aemond. 

“My Queen. My Lord Hand.” He seemed confident. Almost as if he knew that the hightowers were going to grant his request immediately. “The History of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria.”

‘Oh for the love of the father do people never shut up about that kingdom.’ YN thought to herself. Valyria was gone, everyone clung to its memory and shackled themselves to the past because of it. A romanticized tale told over and over so that the original visage never stood true. YN looked back to Aemond, he was one of those who dreamed of Valyria. 

“For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.” He continued. YN rubbed her thumb over Rhaena’s hand. Rhaena had always been a comfort to her. “When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fai, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name.”

‘Will there be a night of rest between now and the damned point.’ YN thought to herself. Turning her head to Baela and her grandmother. Baela offered her a smile, trying to communicate sympathy for YN’s mother who was the one truly on trial here. Rhaenys nodded comfort to her granddaughter but kept her focus ahead. 

“I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Colrys’ closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of house Velaryon runs through my veins.” There it was. The real point. He thought he had more claim to Driftmark then her brothers, than her or Baela or Rhaena. 

 “As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon.” YN’s mother spoke up, YN placed her hand on Rhaenyra’s back in an effort to soothe her. “If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No you speak only for yourself and for your own ambition.”

Her mother was right, in YN’s mind. Her father called her brothers his sons, they were his heirs. Driftmark was to go to the next male child who could further the family line.  Even if Driftmark didn’t go to a male child, as it still would, Baela or YN had more claim than Vaemond did. They were also Velaryons direct from Colrys’ line.  

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhnaeyra.” Queen Alicent interrupted. Her nosey holier than thou attitude dripping from her voice making YN gag internally. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.” Vaemond smirked his pissy smirk, giving YN more cause to glare at the greens across the room. 

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it. You seem not to have a single instance of Velaryon blood in your children, save for a daughter.” He was smug and posturing. “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” 

His house could survive through many of means, if he objected to Luc there was Baela, Rhaena, and even YN. Though she had always hoped she’d never run a house. Vaemond gave a glance to Lucerys, smug and annoying as if he knew a secret about Luc. 

“My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my lone above all.I humbly put myself before you asd my brother’s successor… The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.” He postured. 

YN placed a hand to Luc’s shoulder, comforting the increasingly anxious boy who shifted slightly on his feet. YN offered him comfort in this accusational trial against her mother. This was just about upending her mother’s right to the throne. Wrapped in a cloth of rights and succession they would deliver the blade of usurpation against YN’s mother, the true heir.  Her mother stepped forth, and YN took her place in holding Luc’s hand. She needed someone to ground her or she’d pulled out a knife and stab Vaemond in his smug face. 

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very-”

Her mother was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. Everyone looked, and everyone saw the frail sight of her grandfather the king. He stood on a cane, though he did look fragile his air gave off the sight of a king who demanded his throne back. King Viserys of the land of Westeros was here to defend his daughter. 

The announcer spoke in a loud voice. “King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

YN felt tears sting in her eyes, but she held them back as she watched her beloved grandfather slowly make his way to his throne. Each step looked like agony, and she was scared he would stumble or fall. But he continued on. Everyone in the throne room watched as he made his way back to where he belonged. Otto quickly got off the throne to save face. Once her grandfather found his way back to the throne, he spoke. 

“I will sit the throne today.” He rasped out and tried to make his way back to the throne. Though it seemed too difficult for him to make his way up the steps, but he would shoo away the help of the kingsgaurd. 

In the end, it was Daemon who helped the king. Brother lifting brother up, family helping family. There was no malice, no revelry in one of them being so beat down. Hand in hand, Daemon lifted his brother to his rightful seat and placed the crown on his head. Giving him the power of the room and command of the throne. Viserys adjusted himself on his throne and readied himself to speak. 

“I must.. admit.. my confusion.” He breathed out, face heavy from the gold mask he wore. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight on Lord Colrys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.” 

All eyes turned to the princess, the queen who never was. YN looked closely at her grandmother, hoping that she’d come to the aid of her mother and that her family would be united in this front. 

“Indeed, Your Grace.” Rhaenys spoke up, regal and dignified. She stepped forward to the center of the room. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon. As he will further the house, YN will command the fleet to unite the family under him. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.” 

YN breathed out a sigh and went to hold Rhaena’s hand again. The girl smiled at her cousin and gave her hand a squeeze as their grandmother continued. 

“As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luc to Lord Corlys’ other granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena.” YN smiled at Rhaena, squeezing her hand. “A proposal to which I heartily agree.” 

That caused a shift in the room. The Blacks stood tall once again, now that there was a future of marriage to unite the family and they stood stronger for it. The Greens seemed to shift into an uncomfortable stance, unhappy with how Rhaenys had turned her support to Rhaenyra. 

“Well… the matter is settled… save for one thing.” Viserys turned his tired eye to YN. His first grandchild, his only granddaughter who was the very image of a princess and a Targaryen before him. “The Princess YN has no match for her. I hear she is handed many offers to wed, but no answer. Princess YN, would you consider a match between you and the Prince Aemond?”

Now the room gaped their eyes to Aemond and YN. She held her gaze to her grandfather, as Aemond looked right to her. He begged her silently to say yes. To agree to a match and unite them finally as they should’ve been when they were young. Rhaenyra looked to her daughter who stepped forth with her head high. 

“I must confess, I have had many a offer that intrigues me more. A dornish noble, a house from the North, and even from Ser Vaemond’s own son.” YN laughed the last part out before regaining her composure. “I would like my family to be united once again. I will consider the match to Prince Aemond and return my answer within 2 fortnights.”

Viserys smiled at her, she and him seeming to communicate mentally. Her telling him that she would do what it took to make peace and unite them. Him offering his love and promise that he would accept her answer no matter what. YN did not look to Aemond who stared at her, the faintest smile twitching at the corners. YN was going to consider the match and she would do anything for Viserys so she would most likely agree to make peace with them all.

“Then the matter is finally settled.” Viserys commanded the room. “Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmsrk, the driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The Blacks smiled at the reaffirmation. But Vaemond scored at the thought that this boy with no Velaryon blood would sit the Driftwood throne over his blood. The Viserys would make mockery of tradition and not see what was plain before him. 

“You break law..” Vaemond cut through the silence. “And centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“‘Allow it’?” Viserys mocked back, gasping out the words. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

That seemed to set Vaemond off on a trigger.

“THAT is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!” Vaemond shouted out, finger accusingly pointed at Lucerys. 

“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” Rhaenyra demanded, trying to get this shouting man away from her children. 

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmsrk.” Viserys stated, affirming his decision as king. 

“You… may run your house as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond stepped forth, angry at the turn of the trial. “My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on account of this-”

“Say it.” Daemon whispered, taunting the man who glared at them all. YN inched her fingers close to the knife she held at her waist, ready to defend whatever slander Vaemond spoke against her mother. 

The room was silent. Waiting for Vaemond to make the mistake. Everyone’s eyes looked at the man who grew angrier at the minute. Otto stood behind his daughter, her children stood around her waiting to see what would happen. YN kept a hand to her mother’s shoulder and the other close to the knife at her waist. She dared the man to say it, for she would take his eyes and tongue as punishment for speaking against her mother.

“Her children… are BASTARDS!” Vaemond shouted, his angry finally topping over and causing him to scream the forbidden words. Rhaenyra’s children stood ready to pounce on the man to kill him. Jace shook his head in anger and YN grabbed her knife ready to pull it out. “And she… is… a whore.”

That caused a commotion as the crowd gasped. YN pulled out her knife trying to rush forward to cut his eyes out, but she was stopped by Daemon who began to walk forward. Viserys pulled out his own dagger, anger in his eye and rage shook his hands. There was one punishment for slander such as that. 

“I… will have your tongue for that.” The king pointed the blade to the man who only stood smugly in the center of the room. 

But his smug expression did not last long. For once his head stared at Viserys, soon half of it was lopped off and fell to the floor. Daemon had cut his head in two, making the room gasp once again. YN froze at the sight of his half head on the ground. She had been accustomed to dead body’s but the way Daemon had removed Vaemond was so sudden and vicious she barely had a moment to breathe. YN ripped her eyes away from the bleeding corpse, blood rushing to her ears making her deaf to the following cries and words. She held Rhaena’s delicate hand in hers as her cousin began to grip it in shock at what her father had done. 

YN spared a look at Aemond who seemed to be smiling at the sight. Like he enjoyed seeing Daemon kill someone in front of him. Like it was a dream or a wish to be in the presence of such a violent man. YN couldn’t bear to see that disturbing smile, it reminded her of the smirk he gave when he came back from stealing Vaghar. 

The king began to groan, growing weary of standing so tall so long. He collapsed back on his throne, shocking Alicent and Rhaenyra. 

“Call the Maesters!” Alicent gasped and ran to him. 

“Father!” Rhaenyra spoke and ran to him as well. 

“Please, my love. You must take something for the pain.” Alicent pleaded and held the king up into her arms. She tried her best to support his weight with her body. 

“I will not cloud my mind. I must put things right.” He tried to dismiss her, but she held on. Rhaenyra stood at the foot of the throne waiting for her father. Viserys was led away by a guard and a maester. All Rhaenyra could do was watch. 

YN wanted to go forward and help her grandfather, but her cousin was still shaking and she needed to be there for her brothers and cousins. All of which had witnessed the man who had raised them kill a family member before their eyes. Even if he was a slanderous traitor. As she shooed her siblings and cousin away, a hand grabbed her arm, and she looked up to see Aemond staring into her eyes, 

“We need to talk. When can we?” Aemond asked, his eyes held no humor or mockery as they did before. 

“Later. After the feast tonight.” YN said. They did indeed need to talk, it had been six years since they did and they needed to finally talk about what they were going to do. Would YN accept him? Would Aemond understand why she chose not to be on speaking terms with him? Hopefully the air between them would finally be cleared.

[findingnemosworld]

𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚 𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐚 - 𝐱𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: just so you know, I am going to hell for this but YOLO baby!!!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: xabi has been managing the bayer leverkusen squad for nearly seven months now, and within that time, he finds himself drawn to the club's photographer, camila mernes.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚 ( 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐢, 𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 )

Camila had grown accustomed to running away, at first it made sense; she'd spent her entire life in Spain, built a career there despite some still labeling her as a 'nepo baby' and still; she'd found herself entangled with someone she shouldn't have which ultimately lead her to choose Bavaria as her next residence.

Working as a photographer for Bayern Munich was nothing short of two things - a learning experience and an experience she wished she did not have to endure; the coaching staff were kind, the other employees were kind and most of all the players were kind; most especially, their goalkeeper and captain Manuel Neuer who had taken it upon himself to help Camila with everything she needed.

Yet he couldn't protect her from what is to come.

She'd found herself entangled in the same web, only this time; it was far worse, instead of getting involved with a single player, she'd gotten involved with a player who'd been cheating on his partner behind his back, tricking her for nearly a year until she discovered his truth through an online photo, suffice to say that was more than enough for the young photographer to uproot once again, for the third time in a row; this time choosing Leverkusen as her residence.

She received an offer from the sporting director of the club Bayer Leverkusen, and almost instantly slipped into her role rather easily, she was quiet; she kept to herself and rarely spoke unless it was absolutely necessary for her - only focusing on her work which had definitely impressed the management, so much so that she was given the opportunity of being on the sidelines to capture photos of the matches in action, and before she knew it - a year had passed of peace and serenity.

Or so she thought.

The club hired none other than the legendary fromer Liverpool, Real Madrid and Bayern player as well as World Cup winner Xabi Alonso to be their new manager after an unfortunate spell of looses which had hurt their campaign and nearly cost them their spot on the table, however with Xabi's arrival came a newfound sense of hope that had shone on a light in the club, the energy had shifted both on the pitch and during training, hell, it had even affected Camila in a positive way as she'd been debating on leaving photography once and for all, to return to Spain; yet his presence served as a motivator for her to stay.

You see, before Camila became a photographer; she'd been training in the Athletic Club's youth academy and had participated in several matches before an unfortunate injury on her twentieth birthday had killed her chance of becoming a football player - and thanks to therapy, she found herself again; this time as a photographer, the person had inspired her to play before was none other than Xabi, and while she never admitted it out loud, she'd always harbored a stupid schoolgirl kind of crush on him which made her even more recluse than she already is, she did not think anyone would notice; but boy was she mistaken.

Because he noticed her ...

Xabi had escaped the clutches of yet another failed relationship in Spain once he agreed to come here, it was the perfect stepping stone should he ever receive an offer from any of his former clubs as expected; it's just a coaching job, he's here to help the younger generation shine and uplift a team that had struggled for a while, and yet the minute his eyes landed on her, it was as if someone had stripped him of the air that he breathed.

He'd learned of her through Simon who told him what he knew, that she used to work for Bayern and that according to her, she came here to start fresh - that alone, had peaked his curiosity so much so that he spent one night searching her name online to see several articles hailing her photography skills, and one article detailing the nasty injury she had picked up which ended her career, and the more he dove deep into the old videos of her playing.

The more he developed an unexplainable fascination with her, that only seemed to grow as the weeks passed until it developed into an obsession.

__

Camila was never a suspicious person by default, especially since within the realm of her workspace; she'd maintained a well rounded distance from everyone there, only conversing if she absolutely needed to - and yet, the minute she walked in this morning, her gaze lands on the items neatly placed on her office; the items in question being, a cup of coffee, a box of what she assumed to be some sort of dessert, but the one thing that caught her attention was a small folded paper, she places her bag down and walks up to the table to grab the paper, she unfolds it to see a handwritten note.

𝙖 𝙩𝒓𝙚𝒂𝙩 𝙩𝒉𝙖𝒕 𝒎𝙖𝒕𝙘𝒉𝙚𝒔 𝙮𝒐𝙪𝒓 𝒔𝙬𝒆𝙚𝒕𝙣𝒆𝙨𝒔

She frowns in confusion, who could possibly send it? - she barely spoke to anyone outside of work; deciding not to dwell on it, she sits down to start working; and while she did so, she opened the dessert box and was stunned to see a neatly sliced piece of red velvet cake which was her favorite dessert, " This is weird " she murmurs to her self.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door which caused her to look up, her eyes locking with Simon who greets her with a broad smile. " Guten Morgen Camila "

" Guten Morgen " Camila smiles back.

" You're here early " Simon said.

" I had some left over photo sets that needed to be done " Camila states, " Erm Simon, did you put this here? " she gestures to the items.

Simon casts a look at what she was gesturing to then shakes his head. " No, why do you ask? "

Camila shakes her head, opting not to make a big deal out of what could just be a kind gesture from someone. " It's nothing, probably someone's attempt at befriending me "

" Well, training is in an hour so I'll see you out on the pitch " Simon said, before he stood up and left her office.

Camila was left with her thoughts, who could know such an intimate detail; it's not like she went about and shared it to everyone she met, her co-workers while kind and very friendly were respectful of her distance, she didn't even have them on her social media accounts, so who could it possibly be?

The thoughts were pushed back that day in favor of work, she'd gotten the job done - all while she was blissfully unaware of the fact that her reclusiveness, and lack of conversing were enough to capture the attention of the last person she could possibly expect.

That one minor incident became a recurring event, every morning she finds the same exact items with a different note written each single time.

𝙮𝒐𝙪 𝙙𝒆𝙨𝒆𝙧𝒗𝙚 𝙣𝒐𝙩𝒉𝙞𝒏𝙜 𝙗𝒖𝙩 𝙝𝒂𝙥𝒑𝙞𝒏𝙚𝒔𝙨

𝒚𝙤𝒖𝙧 𝙨𝒎𝙞𝒍𝙚 𝙡𝒊𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 𝒖𝙥 𝙢𝒚 𝙙𝒂𝙮

𝒅𝙤 𝙣𝒐𝙩 𝙡𝒆𝙩 𝙮𝒐𝙪𝒓 𝒑𝙖𝒔𝙩 𝙗𝒓𝙞𝒏𝙜 𝙮𝒐𝙪 𝙙𝒐𝙬𝒏, 𝙮𝒐𝙪'𝙧𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝙖𝒚 𝒐𝙛 𝒔𝙪𝒏𝙨𝒉𝙞𝒏𝙚 𝙩𝒐 𝒔𝙤𝒎𝙚𝒐𝙣𝒆 𝒐𝙪𝒕 𝒕𝙝𝒆𝙧𝒆

It would get deeper each time, as if the person behind all of these notes were alluding to something - and she had yet to narrow down exactly who it was, up until one night; as she was working on editing the last set of photos to send to the social media team, she finally registered that the sky had darkened as she sent in the last set - she packs her items to head out.

Once she makes it out to the parking lot, she makes a beeline to her car; carefully looking around her surroundings until she finally got to her car, just as she entered her car; she pushes the key in and twists it, frowning when the engine wasn't working as she knew it would, she tried another time, and another and another until a groan of frustration escaped her lips. " This stupid piece of junk " she exclaimed, a bit too loud to no one in particular.

" Camila! "

The sudden smooth and accented voice calling her name caused her to squeal the jump before she turned around to come face to face with Xabi, she placed a hand on her chest to calm her wild heartbeat and mutters. " Mister Alonso, you scared me "

" I'm sorry about that " Xabi begins with an apologetic smile, " I was finishing up some work and I stepped out to head to my car; that's when I saw you "

Camila blinks then nods with a faint smile across her lips, " I see .. well as you can see " she gestures to her car and a dry chuckle escapes her lips, " I'm a sentimental person, I should get a new car but because it's a gift from a friend, I can't seem to find it in me to get rid of it, I'm attached "

Xabi nods, mirroring her smile. " We all have things we become attached to " he states, " or people " he adds silently.

" Pardon? " Camila asks.

" Nothing " Xabi shakes his head before gesturing to his car which was five cars down from hers, " If you'd like, I can drive you home "

Camila's mouth forms in the shape of an "O", the mere action had drawn his attention to her lips before he quickly looks back up in her eyes. " I don't want to trouble you, I was going to stop at a supermarket and pick up a few things for dinner "

" Well, we can shop together " Xabi shrugs nonchalantly, " or ... I can treat you for a traditional Basque meal "

Camila pressed her lips to hold back a smile, " Mister Alonso? " She asks with a confused smile, " Are you asking me out on a date? "

In that moment; Xabi couldn't have been more thankful for the fact that it was dark as he masked his embarrassment with a chuckle, " If it makes you feel uncomfortable, we don't have to, it doesn't even count as a date but rather an olive branch from one northern Spaniard to another "

" An olive branch " Camila repeats with a giggle.

Xabi made a mental note of how soft her giggle was, similar to a melodious tone. " Sí, an olive branch "

" Ok, but um ... I don't want to um " Camila felt rather small under his soft his gaze especially since he towered over her. " I don't want this to affect the professional relationship between us "

" It won't " Xabi assures her with the same charming smile, " we're two adults who are spending time together in a country far away from their home "

That seemed enough for her to be convinced, " Alright, I'll come with you, but ... " she paused with a smile, " the meal better be good "

" It's a very special meal " Xabi grins and walks up close to her, " Let me help you "

They walk up together in his car, Camila remained silent while Xabi was thankful that his plan worked; there was only one step left, to work his charm further and ensure that she's fully in his trap.

They walk into his spacious two story house, neatly decorated with art pieces and accolades from his career - Camila looks around while Xabi placed her items nearby before walking up to her while she was looking over photographs from his career, " Something peaked your interest? " He asks, albeit aware of her fascination with football and the interesting tid bit she mentioned about him during an interview once.

Camila's cheeks flamed at the realization that he was within close proximity to her, " I'm impressed actually " she admits with a smile.

" Did you play? " Xabi asks, pretending to be clueless.

That seemed to elicit yet another giggle which made him smile and say, " Did I say something funny? "

" No, it's just .. " Camila laughs, " I had such big dreams of becoming a football player "

Xabi nods, " and what happened? "

" A very nasty injury, a lifetime of therapy and here I am " Camila said.

" Interesting " Xabi nods before he gestures to the kitchen, " Would you like to change before joining me in the kitchen? "

" I don't have a spare change of clothes " Camila states with a confused expression.

" Oh I know, I'll lend you some of mine, to be more comfortable " Xabi said.

" Are you sure? " Camila asks him.

" Why wouldn't I be sure? " Xabi smiles warmly, " come on, I'll lead you to my bedroom where you can change while I get a head start in the kitchen "

Normally, when one person is in such a situation; it should raise a bit of concern; yet Camila was in close proximity with someone she once idolized growing up, someone whom never displayed anything that could be accounted for as an uneasy or an uncomfortable action, she willingly follows him to his bedroom which was just as spacious with a kingsized bed, a large window overlooking a gorgeous view and a very large closet.

She awkwardly stands in the middle of his bedroom until he brings a pair of shorts and one of his old jerseys, " I hope you don't mind " Xabi states with a smile.

" Erm " Camila glances at the clothes in his hand, before smiling. " I don't mind at all "

Xabi beams, " good to hear, then I'll leave you to change; then you can join me "

He steps out of his bedroom, his mind already clouded by the images of Camila naked; in his arms as he ravishes her with all his might, that one thought was enough to send blood shooting straight down to make his jeans rather uncomfortable - he shakes his head, in order to focus on the devised plan.

_

Fifteen minutes later, Xabi looks up at the sound of small footsteps and his heart nearly leapt at the sight of Camila's petite form dressed in his jersey and his shorts. " They seem to fit " he comments with a jocular tone.

" Yeah " Camila gently lifts the shorts which loosened and were barely visible. due to how large the jersey was, she chuckles, " they do "

Xabi pours her a glass of wine, he hands her the glass before pouring himself a glass. " How long have you been working for Leverkusen? "

" A year and a half! I actually moved here after working for Bayern Munich " Camila explains, " It's been going well for me so far "

" That's good " Xabi nods, " You don't miss Spain at all? "

Camila shakes her head, " As strange as it sounds, I don't! Germany became my second home, I like it here, it's more comfortable in a weird sense " she chuckles.

" That's interesting, usually people become home sick but I never heard people wanting to be away from their home " Xabi said.

" That's cause you never met me, thirty one with the heart of a child that loves to wander " Camila said then took a sip of her wine before asking, " What about you? "

" What about me? " Xabi repeats her question with a charming tone.

" Why would you, a legend accept a job here? " Camila asks with genuine curiosity.

" Because, this is just the start of my career in managing, I want to gain experience and what better way to do that then come back to the country I retired in, like you; Germany is like a second home to me, so it wasn't hard to refuse an offer " Xabi shrugs, " besides, it was a perfect opportunity to escape my heartbreak "

The look across her face had affirmed his initial doubt over why she moved to Leverkusen. Camila murmurs, " Wow "

" Yeah, but I’m better now " Xabi smiles, much better. he thinks to himself.

" Lucky you " Camila mutters under her breath.

Xabi looks at her for a moment, " I take it we have something in common "

Camila looks up briefly before looking away and chuckling in response, " that obvious? "

" You’re not that hard to read querida " Xabi states with a gentle, grinning when he noticed her cheeks growing pink.

" There goes my attempts of being quite mysterious " Camila giggles.

" I think it’s quite adorable " Xabi remarks before he was interrupted by the sound of the oven. " Dinner’s ready! "

______

After having dinner, they move to the living room nursing yet another glass of wine and chatting over everything and nothing.

" Mister Alonso " Camila said.

" Come on Camila, call me Xabi, please " Xabi pleads with her.

" Xabi " Camila repeats, and as she looked at the tv for a moment; she failed to notice how he clenched his fist then unclenched it. " I have to ask, why did you invite me over? "

" I told you, I wanted to extend an olive branch, you seem to prefer solitude during work hours which honestly peaked my interest " Xabi explains.

" So you felt pity over me? " Camila deduced.

" Oh no " Xabi shakes his head as he clarifies further, " Heavens no, I actually felt curious as to why you liked being alone so much "

" I just don’t like talking " Camila shrugs.

" Is that why you didn’t answer most of my questions? " Xabi asks with a smirk, " or was it something else? "

" Well ... " Camila said, " It's a combination of many things "

" Such as ... " Xabi prompts her to continue.

" Erm ... " Camila hesitates, before being encouraged by the wine she was drinking. " I get shy around people I like "

Xabi's brows shot up, and a smile adorned his lips. " Oh really? "

" You're going to think it's stupid " Camila laughs before waving it off, " It is really stupid "

" I promise you querida, nothing you can say now will ever be considered stupid especially seeing as your work in the moment has honestly bewitched me " Xabi admits.

" Oh gosh " Camila mutters then covers her face with the wine glass.

" Come on " Xabi prompts her, shuffling closer until there was only a minuscule glimmer of space left between them, " Tell me "

" Ok " Camila nods, " Do you promise not to look at me differently? "

" You have my word " Xabi nods, struggling to conceal the fact that he already looks at her differently.

" When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a football player as I told you " Camila began, " And I worked so hard to train for that, I wanted to be a midfielder, and you know who inspired me? "

" Who? " Xabi asks, hesitantly swiping her hair away from her face before he smiled at her.

" You " Camila admits, with reddened cheeks before adding, " I had the biggest, biggest crush on you "

Xabi's lips curve into a grin, " Is that so? "

" Please don't make fun of me, I was young and they asked me; who's the player that inspired you the most? I said you because well, I never lie about my emotions, well used to " Camila murmurs.

Xabi repeats the same motion, this time; he runs his digits through her hair. " How do you feel about me now? "

Camila registers to the fact that his body was close to her, she nervously takes a big gulp of her wine glass before responding with a chuckle. " I admire you "

Xabi laughs, " just that ... " he whispers, instinctively leaning his face closer to hers.

" Well, I mean ... " Camila murmurs, " For all I know, you could have a girlfriend or are seeing someone - besides, its unprofessional for sure to be thinking of a co-worker or a superior in such way that I ca- " her words were interrupted the second she felt his lips on top of hers.

Xabi couldn't withhold his desires anymore, cradling her face with his hands to properly kiss her, he felt her still for a moment which caused him to pull back. " Camila, I'm sorry " he admits, " I don't know what came over me, it's just ... ever since I saw you, I was quite -um- fascinated by you, and if you want we can just forget this and I - "

She'd definitely fallen into the trap as it was now Camila that pulled Xabi close to kiss him before muttering, " Let's just .. " she murmurs against his lips, " Let's not talk "

Xabi resisted the urge to smirk, she'd fallen right where he wants her to fall; " Before we continue, I want to say one thing " he said, digits stroking the apples of her cheeks.

" What? " Camila whispers.

Xabi grins, hoisting the petite woman into his lap; he cradles her face once again in his hands and kisses her more passionately this time, he swipes his tongue across her lower lip which granted him access to her mouth, his tongue immediately colliding with hers. " Your lips are so soft " he murmurs eliciting a whimper from her which in turn caused him to groan, " katutxoa ( kitten ) "

Camila pulls back to catch her breath, " I ... " she was immediately silenced by his thumb stroking her lower lip.

" Don't think about anything " Xabi murmurs, leaning in to press a trail of soft kisses from her jaw down to her neck and on her shoulder, " Let make you feel good "

He hoists her up in his arms, wrapping them securely around her waist as they go up to his bedroom, they walk in towards the bed then he gently drops her on the bed, grinning when she sat up to undress herself, once they were fully bare to one another - he climbs up on top of her, capturing her lips in the sweetest most tender kiss which quickly became heated when her clothed breasts brushed against his chest, he skillfully unhooks her bra with one finger then loosens it to discard it somewhere across the room.

He takes a minute to drink in the sight of her, her hair splayed across the pillow; chest heaving with deep breaths, nipples hardening from the cold air, " jainkozko ikuspegia zara, nire katu gozoa ( you are a divine vision, my sweet kitten ) " he murmurs, burying his face in her neck to plant a plethora of kisses, he then descends downwards to tend to her breasts, one hand toys with one while his lips wrap around the other one - the sound of her moans encouraged him to dive further and come face to face with her clothed pussy.

" Please " Camila whimpers.

Xabi's lips curve into a wicked grin, he carefully slips the panties down, a half moan- half groan escapes his lips at the sight of her glistening pussy. " You're so wet " he whispers in awe. " You've been thinking about this, haven't you? "

Camila nods wordlessly, eliciting a smile from him as he presses soft kisses to her inner thighs, drawing out soft moans from her lips which transformed into a cry when he felt his tongue swipe up and down her pussy.

" And you taste even better " Xabi hums in satisfaction, keeping the same pace, darting his tongue up and down rapidly. " So good " he murmurs before finally wrapping his lips entirely around her swollen nub.

Camila grabs the bedsheet with both hands, knuckles turning white at the sheer amount of pleasure he was making her feel, edging her closer towards her first orgasm, " Fuck " she cries out, arching her back off of the bed, her eyes blurry with the intense pleasure coursing through her veins.

Xabi climbs back up with a satisfied smile, " You " he pressed a kiss to her abdomen, " Are " he presses a kiss to the valley of her breasts then grinned as he pecks her lips to allow her to taste herself on his lips, " Incredible "

" So are you " Camila giggles, grabbing his face with her hands to kiss him while one hand dives low to wrap itself around his cock causing him to hiss in her mouth.

" So impatient katutxoa " Xabi groans before teasing her with the tip of his cock which was quickly enveloped by her walls the moment he thrusts deep inside of her. " Fuck " he heaves out a deep breath, stilling for a moment to allow her to adjust to his size. " You were made for me katutxoa "

Somehow it felt like an eternity until he started to thrust in and out of her, Camila wrapped both her arms around his back; nails digging deep into his back. " Oh fuck " she cries out, lids fluttered shut tightly. " Fuck ... don't stop "

Xabi pressed soft kisses to her cheek, " I'm not stopping katutxoa " he cooed with a soft voice in her ear, " not until you're shaking yet again, look at you " he praises, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder then just behind her ear. " you're taking my cock so well "

" You feel so good " Camila moans, just he rests his forehead on hers.

" Yeah " Xabi nods with a soft smile, " Tell me katutxoa, tell me who's making you feel good "

" You are " Camila whimpers, eyes brimming with tears. " All you "

" Katutxoa " Xabi murmurs in her ear, thrusting in and out at a rapid speed. " nirea zara, nirea hartu, musu, ukitzeko eta plazer egiteko ( you're mine, all mine to take, to kiss, to touch and to pleasure ) "

That seemed to be the switch to have Camila chasing yet another high, her hands clung onto his back and a cry of pleasure erupts from her lips which was swallowed by his heated kiss, soon enough he had chased his own high before pulling himself away from her to head to his bathroom and set up a bath for the two of them.

And once Camila was able to compose herself, it finally dawned on her what she had just done, and a plethora of emotions coursed through her; however they were pushed away when Xabi reappeared and picked her up in his arms to enter the bathroom, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to not think of life, even for one night.

__

Two weeks later,

It happened again, Camila finds the exact same items placed neatly on her table; except this time - the folded paper said nothing but two words.

𝙣𝒊𝙧𝒆𝙖 𝙯𝒂𝙧𝒂

And just then, she realized exactly who the secret admirer was; but before she could utter something, a hand snaked its way around her waist a pair of lips found their way to her neck. " It was the only way katutxoa, it was the only way I can get you "

Before she could respond, she turns around to find that he already left - and is now left with the choice of either running away or accepting the jumbled mess of emotions she felt.

[lonesome-witching]

Forever Starts Now

I was asked to do a sequel to Forever With You this time including the wedding. So here it is. Thank you for the prompt. It was lovely to write.

It does feel weird to not advertise myself in this bit. But prompts reopen this Friday, May 26th. Until then you can always check out my previous prompts or my ao3.

“I will admit, I had pictured your wedding differently.” 

Nancy looked up from where she was pulling at her white gown. It probably shouldn’t have been white. 

“Please mom, not this again.” She sighed as her eyes locked with her mother’s. 

“No, no. I’m not complaining.” Karen stepped further into the room. “You look good. Happy.” 

Nancy forced out a laugh. “Shocking because I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.” 

“Second thoughts?” 

“No.” Nancy shook her head. “I want to marry her. I love her. But… God, it feels so… so final. Like once I walk down the aisle there is no going back anymore.” 

“Would that be an issue?” 

Nancy wasn’t entirely sure if her mom was trying to talk her out of this or not. “Not for me. I can’t even believe how lucky I am that she wants to spend her life with me but mom,... What if… She-” She took a breath. “She deserves better than me. I’m such a mess and what if one day she realizes that she doesn’t want to clean up after me anymore. I have all this trauma that follows me wherever I go and I keep dragging her into it. Just the other day I kept her up till 5 am, just because I was afraid to go to sleep. And she does it. She does whatever I need her to do every single time but someday she might get tired of it and then… it’ll hurt so much more if I go through with this.” 

“Sweetie.” Karen pulled her daughter into a hug. “How long have you and Robin been together?” 

“7 years.” 

“Exac- 7 years? Nancy! You told me you didn’t start dating until your junior year of college.” Karen exclaimed, pulling back. 

“That might have been a lie. But seriously mom, you didn’t suspect anything? Me and Robin were roommates.” 

“Well, 7 years then. In that time has Robin ever made any move to leave you?” 

Nancy considered the question seriously. She went over every single fight they had had. How they had argued when Robin forgot to do the dishes right after moving into their small Boston apartment together. How Nancy had lashed out when they went to a gay bar and Robin accidentally flirted with another girl several years ago. How Robin had shouted at her when Nancy pulled up her walls or gave her the silent treatment. 

But Robin had secretly done the dishes while Nancy went to the supermarket. And Robin had held her hands and assured her that she was just trying to be nice and that there was no one she could ever love like she loved Nancy. And Robin might have shouted at her but her words had always been kind and she’d spent her nights holding Nancy’s crying form. She had never run out, slammed the door behind her, went to sleep in the middle of an argument. Things that couldn’t be said about Nancy herself who preferred to run before she’d get hurt. 

“She never has.” Nancy admitted, almost ashamed of giving the idea any thought at all.

“Instead she asked you to marry her. She didn’t do that on a whim. She waited 7 years to be sure that this was the best for both of you. She knows what she’s in for and she wants to be with you every day of her life. I might not know everything about your relationship but I do know that Robin isn’t the type to run out when it gets difficult.”

“Nancy! Your wedding is starting in T minus 2 minutes. Please tell me you are ready?” Dustin yelled from the hallway. 

“Time to go.” Karen smiled at her daughter as she pulled her out of the dressing room. 

The first thing Nancy noticed wasn’t the bright bouquets of flowers her mom had picked out, despite what she had said when they were preparing the place. The first thing she noticed was Robin’s bright smile, lighting up the room. That same smile she was greeted with when she came home after a long day of fighting the patriarchy. It was an anchor, keeping her stable. It always made it easy to take the next step. If she could have she’d run to Robin, fall into her arms. She didn’t though. She stayed in check. Noticing how Steve leaned toward his best friend to whisper something in her ear that somehow made Robin smile even brighter. Nancy would ask about it later. Later when they’d be sharing their bridal suit that her own parents had insisted they’d take. 

She stopped walking when she reached Robin. “You look beautiful.” She whispered the second Nancy was in earshot. 

Just like the very first time Robin had said those words, Nancy blushed a soft shade of pink. 

“Today we are joined together to unite these two beautiful women into their holy matrimony.” Murray began his speech. Robin was snickering beside her. “Please tell me you have prepared your own vows.” 

“We have.” Nancy nodded with a smile. 

He motioned for them to start. Nancy could feel her hands starting to sweat. She could only imagine how nervous Robin must be. But when she looked up, Robin seemed as calm as ever, nodding in understanding and clearing her throat. 

“Hello, Nance.” Robin started. 

“Hi.” Nancy replied automatically. 

“Throughout these past few years you’ve changed my life. I remember being 17 and feeling like my whole life was one big error, feeling like I’d never truly be happy. And then you waltzed into my life, smooth as ever, staring me down as if I had just broken into your home and you were getting ready to shoot me. And I instantly fell in love. All it took was one look, one ‘who are you?’” Robin imitated Nancy’s voice as best she could, which wasn’t very well. “And I was hooked. So hooked I was frightened to talk to you for like a year. But then we became friends and I found an understanding in you that wasn’t just unexpected but it was so desperately needed. Since then a lot has changed. Somehow I have gotten you to fall in love with me. It must be the incessant rambling, I’m sure.”

Nancy laughed softly. 

“We went to college together. We moved in together. We build a home and we build a life. And Nancy Wheeler, it is better than anything I could have wished for. I love waking up next to you, whether it’s at 10 am, 6 am or 3am. I love holding you through our shared nights. I love spending hours debating which movie to watch just for you to fall asleep during the opening credits. I love when you complain about work almost as much as when you talk about it with pride. I love reading the first drafts of your articles. I love spending my time with you. And frankly, I can’t wait to keep doing it. I can’t wait to wake up next to you every single day of my life. Because most of all Nancy, I love you. And I vow to keep loving you till the day I die.” 

Nancy couldn’t help but blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Is it my turn now?” She asked, her voice barely audible. 

“Yes.” 

“God Robin, I love you.” She breathed. “I can’t-” Her voice faltered. The instant those two words escaped her mouth, Robin’s smile vanished. 

“We don’t have to. Just say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened.” Robin had lowered her voice to a whisper. 

“Robin, I- I do want this.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, staring into those kind blue eyes that had never been more unsure. “This world isn’t kind to people like us. It isn’t kind to women in general. But Robin, when I get home and see your smile I don’t care about any of that. You make the rest of the world disappear and there is nothing I want more than to stand here with you today and declare how much I love you because Robin, my heart aches when I’m away from you and I’m convinced it shouldn’t continue doing that after being together for this long. I wish the world was different. I wish we could sign that stupid document that would bind us together legally. I wish I could take you to the office Christmas parties instead of having to pretend I’m still waiting for the right man. But you know what, fuck all of that. What we have is between us. And that’s all it has to be. And I vow to cherish every moment we get to spend together. And when one day in the near or far future the world eases up on us like you so believe, I vow to marry you again.” 

“Murray?” Robin said without looking away from Nancy. “Please tell me this is the part where I get to kiss the bride. Because I don’t know how long I can contain myself.” 

“No, no. First it’s the rings. Robin- Wait what is your middle name?” 

“No middle names.” Nancy and Robin replied in unison. 

“Okay. Robin Buckley, do you take Nancy Wheeler as your wife?” Murray asked.

“I do.” She said as Nancy slid a thin gold band around her left ring finger. 

“And do you, Nancy Wheeler, take Robin Buckley as your wife?” 

“I do.” Robin pushed the ring on Nancy’s finger with a soft sigh.

“Then by the power invested in me by your good faith, I pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss the bride.” 

Robin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips against Nancy’s.

[mod-kyoko]

"Shatter Me" kirumi tojo angst fic

info: gn!reader, established relationship, tw: pstd, scars, mentions of execution, around 3,200 words

type: angst with hurt/comfort, oneshot, post-game AU

a/n: this is a completely indulgent kirumi angst I had cooking up, basically this is set after post-game where everything was a simulation and the damage done to the 'characters' is done to them irl title is a reference to this song which I personally think suits Kirumi well but who knows lmfao

⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

it was all like a horrible nightmare, a nightmare you weren’t even sure you could ever wake from. all the death, the pain and the misery would never be something you could shake from. every single trial, each passing moment your life was on the line… yet each time someone dies, you just wished you took their place. you survived, at what cost? only to be told that your talent and memories were nothing more than a fabrication to appease an audience? you never really found out if those interview videos were real or not…  you saw yourself, clear as day; “if I were in Danganronpa…I would love to be an Ultimate !3$5&*+...I would kill in a way no one has ever seen!”

did you really say that? was that even you, looking up at the camera with wide, child-like eyes declaring you’d… kill? In some ways, you wished you were the first to go out… so you didn’t have to witness the death of your own lover.

kirumi tojo… the “Ultimate Maid” or so they wanted them to all believe. you instantly connected with her; her calm, composed and almost motherly demeanour sucked you in like a moth to a flame. even from the beginning it seemed like she felt it too, she treated you differently than the others. she kept her ‘devoted’ maid self but she checked on you more often, she always asked if you needed anything unprompted, and poured you more tea when you were finished with a cup. you spent many moments alone with her, she enjoyed your company and laughed at your stupid jokes. the first time you kissed her; it was in the spur of the moment, you weren’t thinking. she was just so beautiful, up close to you and asking you in a soft whisper if you wanted sugar with your tea. yet when your lips connected to hers, she was shocked of course but she didn’t pull herself away from you.

what things you would do just to go back to those days, where the worries of murder and despair weren’t constantly plaguing your mind. nights upon nights you sat in your room, staring up at the ceiling asking yourself why kirumi went to the extremes that she did. It was sickeningly twisted what the motive that was created for her was, the prime minister of japan… it sounded silly now you thought of it outloud, if you knew about the truth behind it all you would definitely have thought that it was some poorly written story by a teenage girl. However, you couldn’t even fathom that thought as you were screaming and crying at kirumi that she was a traitor and betrayed your trust. you regretted those words deeply… as those were the last words you ever said to her before she was executed. you barely watched it and the little moments you did watch were enough to make you heave up. the last memory you thought of kirumi was her lifeless body on the floor, splattered and unrecognisable.

…

you looked up. your eyes just met with pure sterile white walls. after the events of the killing game, the simulation… waking up with wires around your body, you never loved the colour white so much. you were currently sat in the recovery centre, where the various victims and… culprits were recovering from their in-game injuries. it made your skin crawl to think that the simulated deaths acted as if they existed in real life too; it broke your heart to think how everyone else was handling it. However, your mind was entirely focused on one person and one person alone.

how long have you been standing here? staring at the door that led to kirumi’s recovery room? an hour? more than that? it’s not the idea that you didn’t want to see her, you were jumping off the walls in happiness to find out that your partner was alive but not unscathed. you were afraid - afraid of what was on the other side of that door, what condition kirumi would be in. would she be happy to see you?

you swallowed a thick lump in your throat, a shaky hand grasping the doorknob and you already felt the bead of sweat going down your forehead. you knew that you couldn’t just back away from this. bad outcome or not, you were going to see her, you just wanted to see her again.

with a gentle click the door opened and you peered in. there she was, dressed in a patient gown and sat in a wheelchair by the window, her eyes vacant yet staring at the courtyard of the facility. your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, seeing her alive like this… you had to hold yourself to make sure that you weren’t dreaming and the nightmare would come back all over again.

“kirumi…” you called for her and your voice reverberated off the walls despite the fact you spoke in a whisper. her eyes widened, turning herself as fast as her condition would allow her to. you just wanted to run over to her, hug her tight and swing her around in utter joy. however, stepping closer you really started to see how serious her condition may be. minus the fact she was in a wheelchair it looked like her entire body was wrapped in bandages, at least, based on what you could see outside of the gown. her warm green eyes stared at you like if you were a ghost, hell… to her, you probably were as much as a ghost she is to you she didn’t say anything which worried you, you slowly sat down on a chair that was near the window as well. you looked out the window awkwardly, trying to think on what to even say. you looked back at her to find she was still looking at you.

“uhm… how are you feeling?” that was the only words you could even think of to say, there were a thousand questions running through your mind but you wouldn’t want to overwhelm her. she took a deep breath, it sounded uneven like if she had trouble getting air. finally, she spoke. “I feel pain all over. my head… it hurts.” hearing her voice was a relief even though it had a shake to it. “yeah… I can imagine it does hurt…” your mind flashes to her execution; from the small parts you saw through the cracks in your fingers, she fell head first. the thought made you cringed. “you… understand what’s going on, right?” you asked her. you were told that the others had been given information when they woke up… which was two days ago if you weren’t mistaken.

she gently nods her head in a twitchy sort of motion. come to think of it, her head seemed to wobble slightly even when sitting still. jesus. “all of… that… was fake? a simulation..? our… memories were toyed with…” you saw her bandage-wrapped hands clench which caused you to grit your teeth. you hated this so much.

“y…yeah… we were… fictional characters created for some.. dumb show or… whatever…” you didn’t tell her that there was the possibility that you all signed up for it. you weren’t sure what was true or not. “we are real now, of course… I’m… here.” you reached a hand to gently place it over hers, she flinched and you looked at her with apologetic eyes. “my purpose… was… just an illusion then…” she muttered with her brows wrinkling. “I… I thought I did what was right… for… my people. those people didn’t even exist…”

you grimaced. she meant her ‘fake’ past, right? the people of Japan was what made her murder another, her selfless devotion. “am I a monster?” those very words made your eyes widened and you shook your head vigorously. “no… no, of course not...  if I was in your shoes I would’ve done the same thing.” you said rather seriously and she looked at you, searching for a lie of some kind. she sighed softly. “you do not seem the type to do such a thing at all… you don’t have to try and make me feel better about myself. I see the person I am now.” “but you’re not a monster, kirumi… and I’m not just saying it to make you feel better. you’re not the only one to have motives to kill… the ones after were… much worse than yours…”

you saw the way her eyes darted around in shock, realising that the killings had continued after her death. she looked away and covered her mouth with her hand. she looked like she was going to be sick. “however, I had… betrayed you..”

hearing your own words echo from her lips made a deep guilt sink into your stomach. to think that was the last thing you ever said to her before she met her demise… because you were so damn angry, angry at her and… angry at yourself, angry at the sick twisted minds that constructed  the killing game. 

“I’m sorry.” was all you could say. kirumi looked at you completely shocked. why were you apologising…? she was the one that had killed, betrayed you and threw away everything you created together. despite her feelings, she relaxed into her wheelchair and breathed out, like if she had been holding her breath for some time. “I… I am sorry too…” 

god you wanted to cry right then and there as she said that. she was not innocent at all but something within you just wanted to hold her in your arms and never let go, you never want to lose her ever again. “are you… considering to go through the treatment…?” you asked, hoping to change the topic a bit even if it was still morbid. she nods her head gently. “yes… they said I should partake in small exercises like catching a ball… and… relearning how to walk.” 

you bit your bottom lip at that news. it could be much worse… at least it sounded like she had a chance to get a normal life at some point. “but… until then I will need assistance in basic needs…” she said with disappointment in her voice. it made you ache… simulation or not you know she feels useless right now. “I’ll be there to help you.” you were quite blunt in your words - but you meant it. you would be there for kirumi every step of the way, everything she needed you will provide. she looked at you shocked as she thought you hated her for the acts she did… she nods her head, however. “...thank you, dear.”

…

it had been a full month ever since you reunited with kirumi again, you supported her and helped her through the process of readjusting to this life, like you were. you were there for her exercises and treatment, watching her try to walk again was a heartbreaking but determination increasing experience. she wouldn’t be able to take full steps without assistance for awhile, however for right now she could at least stand from her chair and move to another quickly. it was only just at the start of this month that kirumi was out of the recovery centre and now sharing a ground-floor apartment with you. it certainly made things feel more ‘normal’ and no doubt a lot more comfortable for kirumi as she didn’t need to stare at blinding white walls anymore. you admittedly did everything for your girlfriend as it just became second nature to you at this point; you could see how desperately she wanted to clean or even wipe down a surface to feel like she was doing something. she knows that she was never supposed to be the ‘Ultimate Maid’ yet the yearning to do something, anything was still there. 

as for right now, you were cleaning the bathroom and kirumi sat at the dining table with a book. reading was now one of her popular pastimes, she greatly appreciated that you bought her so many books to read… books that she enjoyed quite a lot. hearing you scrub the tiles in the bathroom made for some interesting background noise, although she found your presence anywhere in the apartment to be relaxing. she would’ve indulged it some more if she didn’t just gain the most head-splitting headache possible that nearly made her drop her book as she gripped her head. no matter what, it didn’t seem like these headaches were ever going to go away. she sighed softly, putting her book on the table as she wheels over to the kitchen counter and opens the medicine cabinet which she could reach for obvious reasons. she grabbed her painkillers and quickly downed them with a swig of water. she closed the cabinet and was about to go back to her book until her eyes spied the set of kitchen knives.

her jaw clenched, looking down at the floor. she just wanted to be like… like herself again, like in the killing game. she was useful in it. everyone needed her, wanted her. she could service everyone and be the perfect girl she wanted to be. she leaned up slightly and grabbed the biggest kitchen knife, wheeling to the fridge and grabbing out a tomato. she just wanted to prove herself… that she could do something. she went back to the dining table, swallowing a lump in her throat as she stared at the red fruit, knife in hand as she positioned it just like how she remembers.

slowly, she attempted to cut slices of tomato as if she was preparing a salad of some kind. the cuts were irregular in size and certainly not perfect at all. kirumi clenched her jaw, trying to focus harder, she had to.try harder. no matter how hard she gripped the knife her hand would shake, becoming increasingly the more frustrating that she couldn’t cut a fucking perfect slice-

she flinched as the knife’s blade grazed her finger, nicking it and making it bleed. she dropped the knife quickly, looking down at her finger as the blood oozed out. she sucked in a loud gasp which you heard clearly. “kirumi? you okay?-” you walked into the dining room and your jaw went slack. “kirumi!” you rushed to her side, looking down at the little injury on her hand then at face. she looked absolutely shellshocked. “what were you doing…?” you asked, eyes darting around at the scene. “I… I just wanted to… show I’m useful…” her voice was no more than a whisper as she brought her finger to her mouth to suck on the cut with her brows furrowed. you frowned, putting your hand on her back and rubbing it slowly. “you don’t have to prove anything, rumi… you’re still recovering and adjusting… please don’t force yourself to do things like this, it needs to be taken slowly…” you massaged the back of her neck with your thumb, feeling her relaxed in your touch she wobbled her head in a nod. It seems she understood you. you hated treating her like she was a vulnerable child… but at this stage that was what she was at the moment. 

“I’ve finished cleaning the bathroom… would you like a shower?” you gently asked her. she didn’t like taking showers or even baths, something about the water made her want to shake all over. she especially disliked getting water on her hands although she couldn’t really tell you why just yet.

she stiffens for a moment, thinking about it for far longer than she needed to. however, she nodded her head and moved herself into the bathroom as you watched with a worried face. you were seriously getting concerned for her… it was like every day was complete pain for her, although that wasn’t far from the truth at all… what you would do just to feel her pain instead.

following kirumi into the bathroom, you closed the door and flashed a friendly smile at your girlfriend. “arms up, please!” she lifted her arms at your request, they were twitching a little but it was fine. you carefully but briskly took off her top, following up with her skirt and then undergarments. “can you get into the seat yourself?” you asked her, gesturing to the little bench inside the shower. she pondered for a few moments but ultimately nodded her head and began to lift herself out of her chair. you looked at her in awe, seeing her gain her strength each day always warmed your heart. you clapped your hands and smiled. “amazing! you’re doing so well, dear... I think you’ll be able to take steps soon!” you giggled softly to keep the air light, rolling up your sleeves as you grab the showerhead and turning it on. “Hmm… you think so? thank you, dear…” kirumi smiled softly. even when she felt useless, or feeling low, you always knew how to make her feel supported. she promised to herself that she would be able to walk properly one day for you, so you could walk along the beach together or even be able to walk into your arms like you used to. you hummed gently as you brought the shower head directly over her, the warm water falling over her severely scarred body. her entire body flinched and she felt like she was getting attacked at the moment. when your fingers combed through her sandy-sage locks to run the water through properly she started to relax into your touch. she was so glad that you were here for her, that you were looking after her and giving everything she needed, even if it embarrassed her or made her feel… incomplete. despite everything she’s done, the pain and misery she felt in her heart knowing that what she worked for wasn’t real - she could forget all of that when you were here for her.

you put the shower to the side and squirted kirumi’s favourite shampoo onto your hands. it was lavender scented and it often helped her fall asleep with the smell of her own hair. you massaged it into her scalp and you could see the moment her entire body relaxed and that she was completely at your mercy. it made you smile so much to see her content and not worrying about everything… you pushed her bang out of the way of her eye and slicked her hair back. her eyes opened to look at yours and the slightest tint of red went over her face. you giggled softly at this, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her forehead. “beautiful…” you whispered to her which caused her to blush more. she? beautiful? how can you say that to her face, when you were right there being perfect? “I love you.” she said it so suddenly that it caught herself off guard however she didn’t back down and stared confidently at you. you smiled, heart melting at such a cute confession. tilting your head to the side, you uttered back. “I love you too…”

perhaps, things will be better.

⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

-Mod Kirumi

[ae-neon]

The House of Mirrors

Chapter 8

Nesta huffed a laughed as her fingers rushed across the screen of her phone, hitting back at a quip Gwyn had made about the pictures of her would-be gala dress.

It was almost torture being back in the city and not seeing her friends, but it would be easier to avoid a slip up if she kept to herself all together.

And, in any case, the day of the Rainbow Gala would mark exactly one year since Tomas’ death. And six months since she left the house by the lake, in keeping with Scythian tradition, which warned against mourning too long in the home of the deceased lest their spirit become restless and return to ease their loved ones’ pain.

Love was an odd thing to call it, and she had long ago forsaken any true belief, but Nesta didn’t doubt that if Tomas could return to her, he would – even if only to take her with him.

A few more days of pretending and one more boring black dress...

While the Gala still fell under the umbrella of chaperone duty, it doubled as the perfect opportunity to dip back into the limelight and be seen playing the role of a dutiful widow for the last time.

Nesta felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. It was in small moments like this when death felt like new life. A morbidly beautiful parting gift from her husband.

It wasn’t that she’d been held back. Tomas had indulged all her whims; funded her girl’s nights and wine benders, encouraged her studies and said nothing of it when she chose not to continue. In some ways, her marriage had felt more like leaving a cage than entering one.

But in the back of her mind, she had always known it came at a price. For every kiss there was a bite, and the benefits of his adoration always met the malice of his obsession.

She had thought almost nothing of it at first, had been raised anticipating the worst. And so she’d been pleasantly surprised, enamoured even, when she met Tomas and found a chance at fulfilling both her mother’s dreams as well as her own.

But she was too young to understand then that behind grace lay the expectation of sacrifice, even if it was not always explicitly stated.

Though, in hindsight, she should have known when Tomas had come at the cost of losing Clare. Nesta flinched at the memory. No. I did that. I chose to win, no matter what.

Clare, who had existed before Tomas, before even Em and Gwyn. Clare with her honey eyes, strawberry lips and lemonade dreams. Clare who twice lost everything because of Nesta.

Maybe that was why she had endured Tomas for so long, every bruise a mark against some unspoken debt for Clare’s life. And, maybe, that was why she had done nothing as she watched Tomas bleed out, like he too was finally paying back what he owed.

Her phone buzzing brought Nesta from the well of her thoughts.

The number wasn’t any she recognised but the subject matter left little doubt.

Looks like you were right about the leak. I hate owing favours so here’s some advice: there is no middle ground anymore. The game has changed.

In a year, the entire city will be under someone’s thumb. Pick a side or get your family out of here while you can.

Nesta felt her blood rushing though her fingers seemed to grow cold as she stared at the message.

She'd retreated from the inner workings of the city years ago, had been more of a kingmaker even in her best years. The players – the who’s who of Velaris – were never fixed outside of a few families, was considered an ever-changing variable but the game itself...

Velaris had only ever appeared as a playing field, an arena, so the idea of the city itself being the prize had never occured to her.

How? How could a single entity control the city? And if they could – if it was truly possible – what kind of person would it take to reach for the stars themselves?

~

Rhysand pulled into the driveway of the Archeron’s Northside home just as a chill began to creep into the Autumn afternoon, stepping out of his car with a gift of apricot pudding, some imported Bharati tea and a handwoven Illyrian scarf, courtesy of his mother.

He ignored the kernel of regret forming in his gut as he made his way to their door.

Eagerness was an expected and admirable trait in an Illyrian groom.

But treachery is an unlikable trait in any ally…or friend.

The thought caused a pause of hesitation as he reached towards the doorbell, but the door swung open regardless. In the doorway, a head shorter than the first Archeron he had met at that threshold, stood Estanna with a surprised but pleasant expression.

“I apologise for showing up unannounced,” he quickly offered, “and I won’t stay if you’re not inclined for company, but I wanted to at least drop off these gifts. It’s customary for the groom to offer several leading up to the ceremony.”

Her eyebrows, sparser in old age, rose even higher and her smile finally broke its pleasant restrain, “Oh, of course. I’m afraid we are a little unfamiliar with your ways, there are so few Illyrian families here in the North. That is why we left the arrangements up to our eldest.”

He wondered if there was something of disdain in her statement despite the truth of it. There existed an undercurrent of almost tribal regionalism among the immigrants in Velaris. It was part of the reason his mother had chose to settle in Southshore, to be close to her people and far from his father’s. That and the fact that the only Church of Ramiel in the city sat south of the Sidra.

He ignored the mention of Nesta.

Estanna took his silence as the reply it was and stepped aside, beckoning him in, “Please, you must stay for dinner. It’s a bit… unorthodox given the circumstances, but how could I turn away a guest?”

She couldn’t. Not as the picture-perfect pinnacle of a Scythian woman. And not as an overly ambitious mother. Traits Rhys had counted on taking advantage of, “Thank you.”

Estanna led him in, stopping to wave him into the lounge to wait while she finished up dinner and called her husband down.

Rhys had not spent much time in the lounge on his first visit, preoccupied with introductions and impressions. But now, looking around, it was far more intimate than he’d imagined, with the couches orientated towards each other rather than at any television.

A floor to ceiling bookshelf lined one wall, rows of books on everything from law textbooks to children’s fables were interrupted here and there by framed pictures of golden-haired daughters, faded pictures of younger Mr. and Mrs. Archeron, and black and white portraits of grandparents.

Rhysand felt his mouth quirk at a picture of Feyre dressed as a knight for what looked like a school play.

Near the middle sat a photo of Elain, perhaps as a teenager, atop a horse with what looked like a villa in the distance. Something about the rocky road and sparse trees made him sure the picture had been taken in Scythia, at a family home perhaps.

A few rows above that, almost out of sight, was a picture of Nesta. Rhys wasn’t sure what about it felt so odd; the wedding dress, the wide smile or the groom with his arms around her.

Again, that nugget of guilt made itself known.

Nesta was the designated mediator for this joining of the families, a position usually awarded to the eldest male of the current generation. What he was doing undermined her authority and disregarded the weight of her duty.

But there was too much around Nesta that he did not know and could not predict. And he was not going to leave anything to chance. He would secure his place, even if it meant she lost hers.