#you can always come back to things! you can always fix things!

[daycourtofficial]

Now I’m in exile seeing you out

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none

Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?

Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰

2k celebration masterlist

Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.

It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.

Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.

“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”

His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.

“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.

A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.

She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.

Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”

She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”

In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.

“Cass, it’s been four days.”

“The house’s not the same without you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.

Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.

Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.

It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.

You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.

Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.

You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.

You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.

You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.

He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.

Good.

“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”

“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.

“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”

You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.

The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.

He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.

“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”

Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Was I not enough for you?”

His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”

His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.

“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”

Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.

“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”

You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.

“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”

You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.

This one felt full of hope and possibilities.

-

Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.

You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.

Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.

It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.

Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.

It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.

After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.

You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.

You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.

“Leave her alone.”

You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.

He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.

“She your bitch?”

Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.

The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.

He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”

You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.

You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.

You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.

You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.

So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.

Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.

“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”

You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.

“Is Cassian a dad now?”

Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”

His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”

“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”

Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”

Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”

“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”

You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”

You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.

“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”

The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”

His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.

“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”

He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.

“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”

His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.

“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”

You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.

“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”

He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.

A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.

“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”

He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.

“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”

You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.

They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.

You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.

“Show me.”

-

Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.

The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.

He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.

As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.

Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.

After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.

“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”

His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.

“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”

“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”

His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.

“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”

Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.

“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”

Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.

“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”

He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”

He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.

“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”

And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.

And he became that.

On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.

And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.

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

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

People who asked for a part two: @piceous21 @itsswritten @leeknows-wife @12344321heyyy @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @naturakaashi @janebirkln @slut4acotar @kaitttttttt @queerqueenlynn @anuttellaa @dee-writes-smut @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @michealharrypotter @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @crazylokonugget @yearninglustfully

Thanks for reading 💕

[comfortless]

Dungeoneer!König and his gf... I mean, traveling companion

but really this is how most of their practicing plays out. 😵‍💫

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. sliiiight dubcon, breathplay?, masochism (without real injury), masturbation, oral (m receiving), absolutely unhinged “flirting”.

König knows his way around a blade. From the delicate daggers that thieves pluck from cloaks when the chance to strike is opportune, to the curved, dainty shashkas. His favorite would always be the doppelhänder, long things that strike fear into any man who sees it swung toward him. It’s why he chose to pay good money for one now, tossed a sack of gold at the blacksmith’s feet and demanded to have an exceptional blade crafted for him within a fortnight or so.

He really can’t afford to be too choosy nowadays: he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Before, his course was decided by tattered parchment pinned to whichever acceptable sliver of wood a wandering messenger could find. Now, it’s dictated entirely by the little knight who parades around like the finest tease in all the land. Even the world, he would gamble.

She whispers molten sugar into his ear on nights she’s drunk, lonely or especially sympathetic. Perhaps all three. She climbs into his bed: a tattered, linen sheet on the rough, cold ground most nights. Sometimes, it’s softer, a feather-stuffed mattress at an inn. Those always reeked of sin. Something carnal right where a couple must have lain together only a night prior, yet to be drowned out and washed away in the streams by some hapless innkeeper. It’s all went to his head, more than a little.

The lady knight sits across from him, tapping the rim of her mug of ale with such disinterest on her face that it’s König who feels sympathetic now.

She chose this tawdry place. Chose to don some silly armor and pretend it’s taking her to kneel in service to the King. The jobs never dwindle, but the motivation does. She never knows what she truly needs, but König always seems to.

“You want to fight? Me?,” she asks, to the wooden table rather than to him. Sluggish and gloomy with her own disappointment in this place, her own perceived shortcomings, something that he can’t fix. The King should have his head on a spear for not giving her everything she’s ever asked for, woman and benevolent thief or not.

“It has been a while, hm?”

She nods once, curls her mouth into a subtle smile that sends his heart swooping and something stirring down below.

“I suppose I’ve gotten comfortable.”

He knows well enough that he can make her less so, always seemed to with his groping and hovering. Even if she’s fed into it, a moth to flame, he’s never seen her bed anyone this entire aimless journey. It’s the rush of adrenaline that sends fire into her belly, makes her eyes shine and her legs tremble each time, never the flirtations.

König’s yet to win a bet, but this time he would wager that playing nice won’t grant him a thing. It never has with what’s dwelling in each dark corner of the kingdom’s underbelly, and it never has with her.

So when the sparring begins this time, it’s real.

The look of shock and betrayal comes immediate when she’s easily knocked back, her blade landing in the grass at her side.

“Again.” And again, and again, she says it as though the exhaustion isn’t already evident in the way her breathing grows heavy. Each time it’s the same, because the only thing he holds back from is severely wounding her. Even if he could, even if he knows roughing her up a bit is just how this should go.

“You are tired,” he observes, cocking his head to the side as she scrambles to search for her sword beneath the dim light of the moon. “Do you need a break, little knight?”

The look she shoots him is something akin to scandalized. König’s never been the one to taunt her like this. It’s new and tentative, and he prays it’s something she likes. The dresses and sparkling gifts from the dungeons did fuck all for any sort of progression, and by the end of the night she would know how dull all of this has become to him, too.

“I am not—“ A parry, a feint, a jab that lands on the air rather than striking true. Not enough. “I’m fine.”

It’s never been in this impromptu plan to shove her down, but that’s what happens when she doesn’t take it seriously. She moves towards him again. Steel clatters against steel, sinks forgotten into the grass. With a hand adhered to the back of her thigh and another at curve of her back, he drops her down too. No briny sweat clings to his temple, all of this is more simple than even the training he had as boy.

She doesn’t even kick at him, docile as any doe when she makes the assumption that all of this is playing pretend. Just another game: he’s less fit to be a monster than even the weak things dwelling in the dark in her eyes.

“I do not want your mercy,” he growls against her neck, weaves his fingers into her hair and tugs her head to the side. Just a little. Just enough. “Be sincere. Hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is a mere peep, lost to the wind that whips by and tousles all but the man affixed to her.

Explanations have never come easy for König. Not with words, not even with letters. He’s killed men without telling why, left wandering ghosts and their wives bereaved time and time again. It’s not something worthy of an answer, nor a thing he ever thought she would even ask. It’s never questions with her: only orders. Even a tamed horse can lash out, kick its master right off to trample if it sees fit. König is no different.

He licks a stripe up her throat, relishes in the way her breath catches and her hands rise to dig nails into his arms. His teeth catch right along her jaw, inhales against her cheek, and when she grows tense below him, claws her way down to his forearms, he knows she’s finally well aware of how this ends.

His hands study the expanse of her body, fisting the linen of her tunic upward to reveal all soft flesh and no more tricks. There’s an aching bruise on her neck, chest, below her ribs before the knight finally presses her palm to his forehead and kicks a rib to wind herself away.

“You’re so…” The word she searches for dies on her tongue when she scrambles over him, feels how greedy he truly is when his hips tilt skyward and the throbbing erection presses against her rear.

“Stupid, hm? Say it.”

She curls a hand around his throat and squeezes, her eyelids sinking to shield the dazed glimmer there as he slips a hand into the front of her trousers. A callused thumb brushes over her clit before drifting further, down where he realizes that he’s found a new treasure. She’s already wet.

“You are. Big fool. Brute..,” she grits out, delivers another blessed press of her hand. All another feint, because she remains stationed above him. Even mimicking the groan that rattles his throat beneath her palm with a sigh of her own. “I could kill you. You know that I…”

The knight dips her head to press against his chest as he spears a thick finger into her, and a greed surges through him at this sudden compliance. Poor thing is so winded that she does little else than blanket him and shiver whilst he grins as though he’s devil-possessed or the luckiest filth in the world. The thought of her fitting any cock- let alone his- seems unimaginable, so obscenely tight as she squeezes around one digit that it pulls even an appreciative grunt from him.

“You could try it.”

Her fingers dig into the skin at his neck, and none of it is enough. She’s so gentle with him, because maybe she even believes that she could. Killing wild men without masters or loyalties, just like the men in the stories she fancies. König guides a hand up to help her, presses down around his throat with more ferocity as she lifts her head and stares down at him like he’s truly gone mad.

“You want a leash..?,” she huffs, pretends she isn’t leaking onto his hand.

“Only if this—“ Another finger, a deliberate curl of both as they press to something soft deep inside of her. Something that makes her whimper rather than bark. “—is holding it.”

She only looks at him, sulky and humiliated when she’s pleasured, stumbles over some other mumbled insult as her back begins a slow arch. He guides his hand back to her thigh, pets along her softness and watches her with such adoration, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

“Look at you… cute thing.”

“Not a thing.” Her hissing only further goads him, because she does nothing to pull away, can hardly meet his eyes even with fire and hatred on her tongue.

“Ja… meine dame, is that right?”

Her breath catches as she grinds herself where she’s been impaled, legs trembling as his thumb brushes over the bud in repetition. It’s too soon, but he allows her to have her rapture, gaze drifting from her hair to the curve of a hip as her cunt gives a greedy pulse. All armor is shredded and ripped away, no defenses, catapults or blades, all are exchanged for soft cries and a burning ache. The hurried breaths she takes come almost stilted as she gives his fingers another generous squeeze, and he only feeds them into her with unhurried hunger.

“I want to feel it,” he huffs into her hair, savors the way she tightens the grip around his throat until his voice fetters to a whisper. “Just once, please.”

“No… not..,” is all she manages before the wave reaches the shoreline and she unravels over him. He feels the walls of her cunt throb as her head ascends to his shoulder, burying herself there in shame or bliss. The orgasm is soon but drawn out, some pent up need finally freed to open air, the very same longing that remains prevalent and urging inside of him. He fucks her through it with a bitter fervor, spearing and scissoring the fingers inside until her thigh draws up from around him and she detaches entirely to sit up at his side.

König is quick to rise before her, already untying the laces of what keeps him from the hope of sharing that same rapture she must have felt. The little knight only stares up at him with perplexed curiosity as his cock springs free, thick and long and angry after so many long months of suffering a callused fist or neglect. The tip drags over the seam of her lips as he takes the base of it into his palm, and the drooling maw above her only groans at the barest sensation.

“I will bite it off,” she declares, follows it up with a charming grin as though she hadn’t bruised him deeply hundreds of times prior to this.

“Ja, after… I don’t care.” And of course he does, but this is the closest he’s gotten to anything and he would be a fool not to take it, teeth or not.

She swallows pensively, then rolls her tongue over the slit of the enraged weapon in her face. Beads of salt aren’t fitting for a woman’s tongue, he knows, feels horribly dirty and miserable at the sight for a mere second before she takes him in earnest. Her lips wrap around him, send sparks of the purest euphoria through him.

“Is this how to shut you up, meine dame?”

Everything is gilded gates and ethereal meadows, the only damnation he suffers is the fact that he can’t move without bruising her: too big to feed himself down her throat, too untamed to hold himself steady should she ever allow it. He settles for her pace, watches in wonder as she allows half of him to reach into the warmth of her throat. The panting beast above her curls his hands into fists at his sides, certain that touching her would be the end of this boon of fortune.

Her tongue flicks over the weeping tip each time she draws back, hands grasping at his thighs to keep herself upright. Even when her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, the cock in her mouth only twitches in agonized bliss. He melts before her, trembling in such pleasured fury that his nails threaten to break through the hardened skin of his palms.

“Ha… I need to… I’m going to come.” Only then does he reach for the back of her neck, forcing her in place to bear the taste of what’s to come. She doesn’t fight it, gazes up with a furrowed brow and delivers the gentlest bite along him. A warning or a dare. “Next time will be… fuck…”

Her titan crumbles before her as though wounded, can’t keep his hands in place then as he grasps at her face and his body grows taut. His hips press forward only to stutter as he tries in earnest to keep himself somewhat contained. She gags quietly when the thick ropes of seed meet the end of her, abrupt but as endless as the broken, pitiful noises that rise from his chest then. It’s miraculous how she swallows it all, bitter and hot as it spills in generous spurts.

It’s he who pulls back, giving the cock already softening a few more pulls before collapsing in front of her with acute love tucked away behind the glassy blue of his eyes. His little knight could feign indifference all she liked, but even those pretty tavern wenches and noble pricks she bats her lashes at could never have had a taste of what had just occurred here.

She wipes away spit and come with the back of her hand, tries her best to shoot him a look of disgust, but König does not miss the way that her eyes seem to twinkle in the same way his do now.

“I want to taste you, too,” he rasps, chest still rising and falling with rushed intakes of air. Even after he can’t keep himself from ruining any bit of sanctity or sanity within reach. Punctuates his statement by reaching toward her again, only to be pulled into the comfort of an awkwardly positioned embrace. His face lands against her breasts, and though he languidly runs a hand up her back, the other takes a tit. He toys with her in his palm, brushes a thumb over her nipple and rises up to kiss her cheek, silent pleas.

“You’ve had enough fun,” she answers, pulling his hand away with their fingers intertwined.

“You have more than just a mouth.” He flashes her the biggest, wettest puppy eyes he can manage. That may get him a scrap from her plate, but it’s worth nothing here. “I would make a good vater, yes?”

[barcaatthemoon]

end of an era || jenni hermoso x reader ||

things don't always get better, but jenni tries to help you.

major angst warning, like implied/mentioned suicide attempt angst. proceed with caution.

everything and everyone went silent the moment you fell. it was daunting to watch back as you replayed the stream of your last game over and over again. jenni sighed as she glanced over at you. the two of you had been waiting in the doctor's office for hours now to see how your surgery had gone. both of you knew that it was going to be a long and hard road back, one that you honestly weren't even sure you'd have the chance to attempt.

"will you turn it off please?" jenni asked you. she was beyond trying to be nice about it. you got upset every single time that you watched it, and jenni hated hearing you get hit and go down again and again. she hadn't been there for that game, and it was one of her greatest regrets.

your teammates had told jenni how you had been immediately following the game. jenni almost couldn't believe it, not until she saw for herself that every ounce of happiness had been sucked out of you. you had become obsessive, attempting to figure out where you could have done something to reduce the damage. rather than listen to the countless people who had assured you time and time again that it was a freak accident, you still searched for an answer.

"it's not like i have anything else to do," you grumbled. jenni was really starting to get on your nerves. she was always a little annoying, but it had gone from being endearing to infuriating. "they're just going to tell me that i'm finished. my career is over, even if i can make a comeback. it will be too fucking late, jenni."

"no. no, stop talking like that. you're gonna be fine," jenni told you. oh how you wished that the doctors hadn't made her out to be a liar. jenni believed her words right up until the surgeon came in with a team of people that neither of you had ever seen before.

you felt numb as they gave the time frame of your possible return. it would be well over a year since you required multiple surgeries to fix the tears and breaks. you didn't understand how you had fucked up your body so badly, and it was obvious that jenni didn't either. however, you weren't left wondering for very long. the doctor mentioned old injuries that hadn't healed properly, claiming that your leg was a ticking time bomb that had been resting for nearly a decade.

"that was a waste of fucking time," you grumbled as you rushed towards the car. you were on crutches, so you weren't really moving that fast. jenni had slowed her pace down signficantly to keep up with you. she was carrying your bags, something that you only let her do today because she normally did it for you anyway.

"no, we have a timeline now. that's a good first step towards getting you back to where you need to be." jenni sounded so optimistic still, but you knew that it didn't matter. you'd miss the olympics, and you'd definitely have to retire by the next world cup. your time was running out, and it had essentially been cut in half by your injury.

"jenni, i'll be lucky if i ever get to step foot on a pitch again. let's just get home. i need a fucking drink." you got into the car, ignoring the look that jenni gave you. she was worried about you, despite you technically not doing anything worrisome yet.

you were depressed, and rightfully so. jenni had hoped that the doctors would have some good news for you, but they hadn't. your mood reflected that in the coming weeks as you moped around until you were cleared to start your physical therapy and rehab. your schedule for that was pretty light, especially since you had at least two more surgeries before you were in the clear.

jenni was great, and despite it being her off season, she didn't go back to spain. instead, she had moved temporarily to america to take care of you. you could tell that the move was hard on her, but she couldn't think of letting you stay by yourself. she was afraid that you'd do something stupid or dangerous if she left you alone.

you hated it, and because of that, you started to hate her as well. you hated that jenni kept looking at you like you were made of glass. you hated that she touched you so gently whenever all you wanted was for her to hold you down against the mattress and make you forget the past four months of your life. you hated jenni, and even more so, you hated that she never showed any resentment towards you.

there was always only ever going to be so much that jenni could handle. ten months out of your injury with only one more surgery to go, it all came crashing down around the two of you. the cracks in jenni's patience with you were starting to show, so she had taken a little vacation to spain without you. it wasn't for more than a few days, but it was long enough for your anger to betray you and turn into complete despair.

you had a family history of being fucked up. addiction, depression, anxiety, and a long list of other issues had plagued nearly every other member of your family for as long as you could remember. your parents had both tried to prepare you for the worst of it, and for a time, you thought that you had seen it. you had forgone taking your pain medicine because you had been terrified fo getting hooked on it. there never should have been so many pills in the house, but jenni knew she couldn't have just taken your extra ones with her to spain.

you wanted to call jenni, but she'd talk you down. you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had treated her so badly for nearly a year, to the point where she left the continent to get away from you. however, you believed that you owed her at least a text. something to thank her for taking care of you and apologize for being such a piece of shit for so long.

the time zone different meant that jenni should have been fast asleep. you didn't count on jenni being wide awake at 2 am. how could you have known that she hadn't been sleeping well since you got hurt. the vacation to spain should have been relaxing, but jenni couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her head warning her that you still weren't doing any better mentally. that was why she hadn't even finished reading your text before she was calling some of your american teammates to check up on you, hopeful that it wasn't too late.

…

"i'm here! i'm here!" jenni was nearly tripping over herself as she ran into your hospital room. she stopped when she saw you. you had expected her to start yelling at you or something, but instead she just broke down in front of you.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni tried to tell you not to be sorry, but she couldn't get it out. all she could do is kneel by your bed and cry as your hand weakly ran through your hair. "it should have worked."

"i-is that how you really feel?" jenni asked you. you realized that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear, and suddenly you were filled with guilt. all of that hate and anger that you had felt before came back, but this time it was fully directed towards yourself.

"yes," you whispered. jenni wiped her eyes and stood up as she stared down at you. "i've been awful to you. how can you still love me?"

"are you fucking stupid?" jenni regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. for the first time in months, jenni finally saw you cry. "shit. shit, shit, shit, c'mere. i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that. i love you, i want to see you get better."

"jenni, i'm not sure that there is a better. what if i come back and this happens all over again? i think that i need to retire and take some time by myself," you told her.

"a-are you breaking up with me?" jenni asked you. there was a flash of anger in her eyes, one that completely overshadowed the hurt. "i took care of you for almost a year. i waited for you to get better, to be yourself again because i love you so much. you can't just make a decision like this by yourself, not when you aren't in the right headspace."

"jenni, they're keeping me here on a hold for a while until i can prove that i'm okay. i'm selling my place here. i don't want us to be over, but i think that if you can find someone who actually deserves you while i'm gone, then you should go for it. and if you don't by the time that i'm better, then i'd really like you to consider letting me come back to you," you told her. jenni didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't a clear breakup. it was a break, if anything, and jenni knew for a fact that she wouldn't find someone else unless you actually forced her to. "i've already been let out of my contracts, they're just waiting to make the announcements."

"i wish that you'd reconsider this, but i am glad that you can make rational decisions," jenni said. you nodded as you gave her hand a little squeeze. there was a chair by your bed, but jenni crawled right in next to you. she had a couple days to stay with you before you were moved to the facility that you'd call home for as long as it took you to get better. jenni didn't know when you'd be back, but she kept a calendar to keep count of the days you were gone.

[aspenvelaz]

Meanwhile with aspen...

TW: gory, gonna get worse in RBs, proceed with caution

Aspen is standing in the corridor of Mictlan’s palace, outside his door. Not many things scare the demon, but the prospect of knocking on the dark stone door has them trembling. It’s been years, so many that Aspen almost wants to forget the idea and leave. They knock before fear can root itself more. They need his help. Three knocks, three seconds apart each. They count the five seconds before the door swings open and he stands in front of them. He smiles, and it’s positively horrifying to Aspen. Really, he’s just baring his teeth, which doesn’t shock Aspen in the slightest. He had always been the viciously cruel type, which makes sense considering the civilizations he watched over.

“Umm..I know its been a while but I need help…and you’re you…”

“Come sit darling, I can see your troubles already but please tell me whats wrong.”

The words would have been sweet were it not for the tone they were spoken in, but Aspen knows him better than to take his words as anything but an underhanded threat either way. Nothing he says is ever truly meant to be kind. He will help Aspen, they know that much, it just wont be for their sake. They don’t bother trying to convince themself that maybe he does care about them. He doesn’t, he never has and he never will. However, he’s their best bet.

“Well…I mean you can see the issue right?”

“I can, did you burn up again?”

“I did…but this time someone tried to help me and he restored me physically but I was still burning and now…well…”

They gesture to their current state, which was…not the best. To put it lightly: their bones were still burning and so all of their muscle and soft tissue had simply detached. To put it less lightly: their normally healthy dark skin was greying and falling off in chunks. Along with their muscle, tissue, and even their nerves and tendons. They were essentially just bone.

“Of course I’ll help you. You’ve always been my favorite child after all. Say, could you help me with something afterwards?”

“…Yes. Just fix it. Please.”

“Not even asking what you’re agreeing to?”

“I have a pretty good guess.”

They sit in their designated spot on the sofa, letting him put a hand over their eyes. They feel the dizziness wash over them, and attempt to lay back. He puts a hand on their exposed spine to stop them from doing so, and within seconds they’re unconscious.

[interstellarlyinlove]

Only one bed (May 10th)

word count: 498

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus wakes up feeling warm.

It’s the kind of warmth that reaches down to his very bones. He’s sore and achy and he must have eaten something rancid yesterday because he can taste it in the back of his mouth, but more than anything he is warm, and he is glad that the full moon is no longer in the sky.

Remus has done all of this many many times before, but it almost always feels like the very first time when he wakes up. 

He opens his eyes and the first thing he notices is Sirius asleep in a chair next to him. Remus would never tell him this, but Sirius looks rather shabby when he is asleep. His mouth is always open and his hair is everywhere. His eyes are never fully closed and he drools all over the place and Remus’ heart is going to explode with all the love it has for him, horrifying open-eyed sleep and all. 

Sirius is also the lightest sleeper he knows. Remus’ voice is barely audible when he calls out to him but he knows that Sirius will wake up anyway.

Sirius grins as soon as he catches Remus’ eye. “Good morning, my love. Is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” Remus says, his voice scratchy. He gestures to Sirius to come lie next to him.

Sirius comes with a cold glass of water and he helps Remus drink it. “If Madam Pomfrey walks in on me next to you in bed, she’d–”

“Did I eat something weird yesterday?”

Sirius laughs. “Yes. I don’t think you want to know what it was, though. You seemed to enjoy it at the time if that makes you feel better.”

Remus stares at Sirius. “Sure.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Are you hungry? I can get you some–”

“Sleep next to me.”

Sirius smiles softly. “I really think you rather need the whole tiny twin bed right now, what with your bones breaking and mending and breaking and–”

“I’m fine,” Remus says. He tries to sit up in the bed and his back cracks rather loudly. Sirius helps him fix the pillows behind him and he gives him a look. 

“That really sounds worse than it is.”

“Sure,” Sirius says. He hands Remus a vial of Dittany. “Drink up, darling.”

“You’re an ugly sleeper,” Remus says, changing his mind on never telling Sirius this.

Sirius laughs, startled. “I know. James says it’s because I don’t close my eyes.”

“Horrifying,” Remus mutters. Dittany always makes him sleepy. 

“Do let me down gently, love,” Sirius says, grinning. “You’re a gorgeous sleeper.”

“Ugh.”

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, my love,” Sirius says, running his fingers through Remus’ hair softly. Remus falls asleep feeling warm and so incredibly loved he can hardly believe it. Full moons are the single most horrible thing in Remus’ life, and Sirius has the ability to make even those suck less. Remus is the luckiest person in the entirety of the universe.  

[moonstruckme]

Hi!!! I really really love how you write Lily! Could you please write something where Lily is comforting the reader who’s going through a friendship breakup and is taking it really hard?

Thanks lovely! <3

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 864 words

You can tell your moping is starting to make your girlfriend nervous. She keeps bringing you things as she bakes, first the beaters to lick clean, then a spoonful of dough, and now cookies in droves, two or three at a time as different rounds come out of the oven and delivered with brief, cajoling kisses. She’s trying to infuse you with a better mood by all manner of sweet things. 

“I’m okay,” you promise as she comes back in, your plate reloaded. “I really am full this time, baby.” 

Lily hums discontentedly but sets the cookies down. “And when you say you’re okay,” she says, perching on the armrest beside where you’re sitting on the couch, “do you mean you’re okay without more food, or…” 

“In general,” you reassure her. “I’m alright, really. I can feel you worrying.” 

Her fingers skim down your hair, slotting a piece behind your ear. “Well, I don’t mean to make you feel my worry,” she says, “but I don’t mind worrying. And this would be a…a very understandable thing to be not okay about.” 

You can’t quite look at her. “Yeah.” You shrug, trying to sound lighter than you feel. “I just figure there’s not much point in being all sad about something I can’t fix. Best to move on, you know?” 

“I do know a thing or two about losing someone you’re close to,” Lily agrees. 

And she does, you remember. Her sister. You look up, shameful, but she only smiles gently. 

“Moving on does help, definitely, but you can’t really just skip over the feelings, either. It’s…” Her expression goes sheepish. “Well, it sounds sort of awful to say, but it’s almost like they’ve died, isn’t it? At least, the relationship you had did.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, relieved. You’d felt wrong for thinking it, but you’ve been feeling the same. The awkward, unidentifiable tension you’ve been carrying around starts to uncoil. “It’s really weird, not talking to them.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” She takes your hand, rubbing her thumb over yours softly. Her eyes are heavy with understanding. “It’ll probably always be weird, if I’m honest. But it won’t always hurt so terribly. You know this is the right thing for both of you.” 

“I know,” you say, shallowing your breaths in an attempt to suppress the tears stinging in your eyes. Lily strokes a short line into the back of your hand. You can feel the weight of her gaze on you, but you keep your stare determinedly downward, blinking forcefully. “Sorry,” you choke out. “I don’t mean to be such a drag.” 

“Baby,” Lily laughs, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other around your head as she pulls you into her chest. And she’s all softness; soft flesh giving way to your shoulder, and a soft hand cradling your face, the soft silk of her hair tickling your nose as it falls around your face like a curtain. 

“You’re not a drag,” she promises, “you’re just sad. It’s okay to be sad, my love. Don’t stopper yourself up on my account, okay? Please.” 

You don’t cry for long, possibly because there’s not much left to cry for. You’re both right; what’s done is done, and it’ll hurt even if that hurt is pointless. You’ve lost someone who other people still get to have, or maybe you’ve lost the love more than the person, and maybe that’s worse. You can’t fix it, don’t want to, so this is all that’s left to do. Miss it. 

“My sweet girl,” Lily murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry. You’ll be alright, I promise.” 

“I know,” you say croakily. You reach up to wipe your eyes, but she beats you to it, thumb stroking underneath your lashes with enough care to nearly have you bursting into tears all over again. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be, you haven’t done anything wrong.” She sounds almost pleading. “You’re allowed to be upset, okay? Really, I’ve been counting on it all day. I’m just glad you didn’t go to bed without letting yourself have a cry. I was starting to really worry.” 

“Is that what the cookies have been about?” you tease, feeling lighter as tears cool on your cheeks. Your voice comes out easier. 

Lily hums. “Perhaps.” 

“Wait, really?” You pull away from her chest so you can see her. “You were trying to feed me until I felt better?” 

“Well, would there be anything wrong with that?” 

“No,” you laugh, “but I feel like it’d have been a lot less effort just to cuddle.” 

Lily beams, then looks guilty for it, tapering her smile down into something more sheepish. “I could still do that,” she says, slipping off the armrest and into your lap. You bite down on your own smile as she smears a kiss over your cheek. “I’ve got more cookies coming out in a few minutes, but aside from that brief interruption I’m all yours.” 

“More cookies?” you ask, leaning back to peer into the kitchen at the overflowing cooling racks. “How many are there going to be?” 

“You seemed very sad,” she reasons, stroking a piece of hair near your face. “It’s possible I may have overcompensated.”

[sonnetfromsappho]

good luck, babe! | prologue

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader (inclusive reader)

11:56am

When not dealing with academic stress, your back-to-back classes, and the burden that came with working at Stanford’s campus bookstore, you granted yourself the luxury of sleeping in on the weekends. You honestly did deserve it after the week you just had, feeling like you were being worked to the literal bone. You understood it came with being in college, but sometimes you wished you could have more time for yourself. It didn’t matter in moments like this, the moments you were with her.

You couldn’t deny that you noticed her shift out of the bed a little earlier on, but knowing the plans you had in mind, you didn’t mind asking where she was going. You picked your head up to see if she was near, and you only assumed that she was getting herself ready for practice. She usually leaves earlier, but you somehow convinced her that she deserved to sleep in. You weren’t lying, she had been working her ass off since you first met her, and she rarely ever gave herself time to relax. Tennis was always so demanding, so you tried to understand why training would become excessive and take up her entire schedule when she wasn’t in class. You never complained much because it never interfered with the time she made for you. 

“I threw you out of whack, didn’t I?” you asked, almost scaring Tashi. She was so wrapped up in getting herself ready that she barely even noticed you woke up.

“You? Never. Besides, I’d probably be waiting until now anyways. I’m training with Art today, and even he said he’s not good with time,” she answered, but not without her making her way over to kiss your forehead, “Good morning, love.”

“Hi, do you want me to come with? I can get ready in five seconds, I have Barry Allen speed, you know,” you joked while shrugging off your covers and getting out of bed. 

“Honestly, I would just stay here and wait for me to get back,” she was fixing up her hair while looking into the mirror you had in your room. You couldn’t help yourself, she just looked so warm, so you snaked your arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug. 

“And if I’m being honest, I say fuck Art and stay here with your super awesome, amazing girlfriend,” you whispered to her and though you noticed the way she tensed at the word ‘girlfriend’, you let it go in that moment. Later, you would overthink the entire interaction. 

“I would love to do that, but I’ve been saying that I’d help him practice for about a week,” she says as she breaks the hug, heading over to where she placed her bag. You tried to shake off any upset that might have been visible on your face, but she noticed anyway. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she scoffed playfully.

“What look?” you asked defensively, you were hoping that she would just let it go. But it was Tashi, she never let anything go, especially when it came to you.

“You’re looking at me like I’m the asshole, I’m sorry babe but I swear I will be yours in…two hours,” she was always able to read you, but you were very happy that she was wrong for once. The last thing you wanted to do was argue with her, especially over something that couldn’t be settled within the next five minutes. 

“Okay, as long as you promise to come back to me,” you make your way back to your bed, getting cozy under the covers.

“And when have I ever broken that promise?” she smiled at you, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

If you could have seen what would happen in a couple of months, you would have told her at that moment that she had broken her promise. For now, you feigned a smile and mumbled out a ‘never’ in response to her question as she kissed you goodbye.

[wings-of-ink]

Pls I love how you answer angst and it's all dark and gloomy and then there's this cute emoticon at the end ^_^ and suddenly it makes all the worry go by sheer power of cuteness, you are so real for that

I'm gonna pull the "chaotic neutral" on an angst galore and humbly ask for ROs reacting to MC coming to them looking all pretty (gn) and asking RO how do they look only for the RO to find out MC is going on a date.

...and what if MC after seeing ROs reaction smiled gently and said "Well... It's for our date, actually. If you would have me"

(hehe did I got ya? Thought I'd ask some irredimible angst?)

Okay, you did actually get me with that! LOL Totally turned it around at the end, and I made a very unglamorous noise.

I don’t know why, but I always gotta get my little smile in there somewhere, lol. Even if my eyes are a bit watery. ^_^

As for your adorable ask (assuming at least some feelings or romantic words have been exchanged between RO and MC of course):

Oswin: 

Big lump in his throat off the bat. MC looks wonderful, and they're going on a date with someone else? He smiles through it and nods emphatically. “You look amazing. The lucky person will be well-pleased.” Has he misread everything between them?

At the reveal:  His knees actually buckle. “Our? Our. *OUR* DATE!?” His heart is absolutely pounding. “What do you…what should I wear?” MC will need to help him out with that one.

Zahn: 

There’s some genuine enthusiasm there when they tell MC they look gorgeous - because they do. They’ve always thought that about MC. They shine inside and out. Maybe that’s why they confused the things stirring between them. But they’ll be happy for MC and cheer them on.

At the reveal:  Zahn has a smile that would make the sun jealous. They run and grab MC’s hand. “Let’s go! Let’s go right now!” They have zero idea where they’re going…

Duri: 

“Well that’s hardly fair. Are you trying to tease me? It won’t work.” *pouts* (it’s working) *Walks around MC studying the outfit. “You look delicious as ever, but is this person really deserving of such a feast? Never fear, I have just the thing. We’ll borrow Zahn’s ratty cloaks - trust me on this - you’ll still make a statement.” *If MC allows this to run its course, Duri will deck them out in the most atrocious outfit they can make with the items on hand. MC is probably wearing a basket on their head.

After the reveal:  They go quiet for a long moment. “Well, of course, I knew that. You can’t fool me - ha! …What in the stars are you wearing though?”

Rune: 

Swallowing their feelings. Checks MC out, straightens their collar (it wasn’t crooked), smooths the wrinkles (there weren’t any), and gently fixes their hair (it was fine). “You should already know how fabulous you look as well as I do. You’d be enchanting even if you wore robes of grass and leaves.” They fidget. “If…if you aren’t sure about this person - be careful…and I’d also like to take you out too, if you’ll allow it. I apologize for asking like this.”

After the reveal:  The smile takes over before they can stop it. “Well played, I’ll admit it. I suppose that’s a yes to my request then?” MC gets a nervous laugh out of them. Is that a tinge of red on their cheeks?

???: 

“Date!? Well, that isn’t fair, I’ve been flirting with you for ages and we haven’t been on a date yet.” He takes a flower from a vase and slips it into the outfit or tucks it in MC’s hair. “Here’s an idea - I go with you and you can show me how a date works. I’ll make some notes and I promise not to glower menacingly at your date.” *He’s lying* “And…yes, for the record, you are a vision. Always.”

After the reveal:  “No need to change your plans on my account, MC! Go on then, and have your fun - tell me how it went tomorrow.” He pushes MC to the door. “Don’t stay out too late, aim for the throat if they get too fresh with you.” *Door shuts, MC is made to wait a few minutes before ??? comes back out with a big stupid smile.

Thank you for the Ask, Anon! This one was a lot of fun! ^_^

[your-nanas-house]

Big Daddy Elvis

◇ Pairing: Big Daddy!Elvis Presley X girlfriend!Reader

◇ Warnings: fat tummy worship, smut, handjob, insecure E, hairy body (?), established relationships, age gap (they are both off age), love, glimpse of silly Elvis

◇ Summary: Elvis wants to be intimate with his girlfriend since it's been forever since their last time.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

His blue eyes kept moving from a part of his body to another as he stood bare in front of the mirror of the huge bathroom. He used to weight less, be less shamed of his own body and even more active in the bedroom.

It wasn't like he didn't have any woman, damn... on contrary, he still had plenty of them swirling around him like moths attracted to the light of a lamp.... But he didn't loved himself like he should had.

"Honey? Is everything okay in there?" The voice of his latest flame broke his trail of thoughts, making his heart beat faster in slight panic and shame

"Y-y-yeah, Satnin'..." his low voice cracked as soon as he replied, making him curse under his breath while rushing to grab something to cover himself up.

A gentle knock and Y/n's muffled voice made itself hear from the wooden door again

"You don't sound okay, love. Can I come in?" She asked weakly not wanting to upset him or scare him for some unknown reason.

The young woman had sadly noticed Elvis' mood in the past days and she didn't want to add more stress on his shoulders, she loved him too much that even the thought hurt her.

"No, wait for daddy on the bed, little one" Elvis asked harsher than he intended, his shaky hands moving under the water of the sink in an attempt to calm himself and refresh his face.

It's been too long since he made love to Y/n, he honestly couldn't wait anymore... he needed to swallow his discomfort caused by his changing body and seduce her as only he could do.

It took him longer than expected to finally find the courage to walk out of the hotel bathroom and step in their bedroom, where the young woman was hopefully still waiting for him.

"There you are, E. You feeling allright?" Y/n asked softly not looking up, too busy fixing the food she got them and check if everything was there on the cart.

His careful steps and the soft noises caused by his robe dragging on the floor made her looked up bit worried since she received no answer from the older man.

His hair were wet, plastered on his forehead and bit messy since he probably ran his hand through it. He was trying to keep a poker face on but his beautiful eyes clearly showed the discomfort and sadness that he was feeling.

Y/n gifted him a small smile, pretending she couldn't read through him, as he started to breath heavier, his hands grabbing into something to keep them from shaking as his chest rose up and down. He couldn't back away now... not when she was all dolled up for him.

"Love that lil' dress on you, Satnin'... makes me feel things every time you put it on for me" he murmured lowly, his accent getting thicker just like she liked it; there was still insecurity behind his sweet blue eyes but it slowly faded away as soon as he saw her surprised and flattered reaction at his comment.

"Y-y-ya know.. I-I just need a glimpse at that pretty face of yours... and I'm already all fired up—" he continued, gathering enough confidence to step closer to her and brush his big hands on her arms so to slowly remove her robe.

His cold rings made her shiver just as much as his intense lustfull gaze; it all happened in such little time but the young woman's body was already reacting at him like usual.

His hands wandered all over her, resting one back up on the back of her neck so that he could tilt her head as he liked before moving to the next step.

"So y-you know how you always say that you like... love my belly?" He corrected himself, his voice coming out weaker than he intended and his grip got bit tighter as he squeezed softly her nape.... not daring to take a glimpse at his fat tummy.

Damn, he needed to distract himself or he wouldn't be able to act like he had planned.

A slight pull and his lips were now on her warm neck, leaving wet kisses on her vulnerable throat and feeling her heartbeat which boosted a bit his ego since it was increasing due to the arousal

"Remember... what you like to do when we lay together on our bed..?" Elvis whispered, brushing his nose against her ear to inhale her scent, which never missed to turn him on. Her locks tickled his face, making him smile softly as past memories of their after sex came back to his mind.

As his hands started to roam and rub her flesh, taking a hold of it to knead with passion and lust, he allowed her to slowly unzip his tracksuit and reveal his chest covered by thick dark blonde hair, lower his fat tummy was peppered with softer ones which got thicker right under his belly button and disappeared in the waistband of his pants.

"You like... to squeeze it, hm...?" His voice got lower and raspier, his heartbeat quickened and his skillful but shaky fingers removed carefully her last pieces of clothing so that she was bare in front of his towering form

"...And then you like to... kiss it, right..?" Elvis continued earning a lustful moan from the younger woman, who was getting worked up by the mere view of his naked torso plus his voice and light touch.

The King was not different, he was getting more and more riled up at the reactions of his girl.

Lust was slowly eating him up, making him almost act as an animal in heath if it wasn't for the warm feeling of affection caused by her love filled gaze.

"A-And then... y-you like to... gently bite it, right..?" The statement came out more as a whimper followed by a shaky breath, since her well groomed hands reached for his sensitive skin... playing teasingly with his chest hair while gradually moving lower

"All over" she purred with a sensual smile, her soft lipstick stained lips brushing against his warm skin, leaving open mouth kisses till down to his waistband.

As the young woman kept getting lower, Elvis couldn't hold back anymore the satisfied smile as he spoke back in a half-raspy, half-normal voice.

His finger twitched slightly at the strong need to just push her pretty face where he needed her the most, so that he could receive some well deserved friction

"Oh, yes... yes, all over... baby" he hummed, allowing a low groan to escape him when Y/n lowered carefully his sweatpants, letting them fall down his thick hairy thighs to his ankles, thus freeing its length.

Her soft huff right on his warm skin made him twitch, his half-hard cock swinged free now that it wasn't held by his pants anymore... since he didn't put any underwear.

Y/n was about to grumble something, since his dick nearly slapped her across the face when she took care of his pants, but she quickly stopped as soon as she heard Elvis' contagious and hearthy laugh.

A small smile appeared on her face and she looked up, biting her bottom lip due to the perfect view she had now on her kneeled position. The young woman was close enough to be able to see perfectly the roundness of her boyfriend’s tummy and his blue gorgeous eyes tightly shut in anticipation.

The mood from amused and playful quickly switched back to one filled with need and desperation to feel any kind of touch.

"You're so beautiful, love" Y/n whispered softly against his flesh, gently nibbling at his belly while her hands finally got to work, pumping a couple of times his cock before moving his foreskin and reveal his pinkish tip which was already leaking of pre-cum.

It didn't happen often that Elvis allowed her to worship him, expecially after the weight gain, so she didn't waste any time partially in fear for him to back away... or even shy away from her.

"So, so, so fucking sexy" she moaned out the loved filled praise, letting his big hand grab her nape again and press her eager mouth more into his fat while never stopping to work on his cock after spitting on her hand to use it as lube.

Her right hand started to rub his tip as her other hand worked his length from the base till she saw his body tense after some minutes.

His groans and praises got louder and his hips bucked forward to make her fist hit harder his base as she tightened her grip a bit around his lenght. His breath got quicker and he finally allowed himself to take a look at his girl, admiring with a soft blush on his cheeks how she shamelessly nearly made out with his belly while never stopping to pleasure him till he finally released.

It didn't stop there, though, her hands worked on his softening cock slowly as to not overstimulate him but to guide him through the orgasm and her mouth kept kissing, licking and worshiping his belly as if there wasn't a tomorrow, not really caring about the dripping seed and the messiness of the act.

[usereddie]

hi bia, I want to know your opinion re eddie cheating and latino culture/catholicism. I feel like in many ways a man cheating is something so normal in latin families (idk how this applies for latin people in the us but it's definitely a thing when living in latin america) and that's something that doesn't cause as much struggle with catholicism and "sin", as being queer does. I find it interesting how of course there's a loss that eddie thinks may happen if he cuts that last link to his religion connected to latino culture by coming out/coming to terms with his sexuality, that just doesn't seem to happen with other "sins"... idk if you've watched Brooklyn 99, but in there there's a Latina that comes out as bi to her parents and in the scene they basically tell her they'd rather she was dating someone married than admit that she was queer, and I feel like that's it, even tho I'm not sure eddie is aware of, he's falling into this (i believe) specific latino man stereotype where it's okay to do a lot of bad things, things maybe not accepted by the religion but unfortunately accepted by the culture, as long as you DON'T do the worst thing ever, which is being queer... idk if this makes sense lol, maybe it's not a thing lol, you dont have to post it I just dont have any other latino people i follow that may understand it, sorry

god, yeah, it's totally a thing. i grew up in texas but i was born and now live in latin america and this is so, so true. there are sins men are allowed to commit in latino communities because the sins are still "masculine". cheating on your girlfriend (they're not even married) is nothing. who cares. it still aligns with the misogyny that runs so rampant in latino culture. eddie sleeps with multiple women even though he has a girlfriend? oh, she wasn't enough him. she wasn't doing her job to keep him satisfied. it's a moral failing on her part, not his. and eddie's not that kind of guy, we know that, but this is all he learned growing up. it's very, very easy to fall back on the excuses you've heard a dozen times even when you know it's cruel. eddie dates two women at once and doesn't tell either of them? he's a firefighter, he's a single father, his life is stressful enough. let him have two women so when one gets high maintenance and irritating he can go to the other.

this is real! this is so real! it's so fucked up!

eddie breaks up with both marisol and not-shannon and gets with buck, though?

that'd be a problem. i have no doubt in mind eddie grew up hearing gay as an insult and faggot thrown around casually because homophobia is casual, not only in latino communities, but in the american south in general. he saw the way men who cheated would show up to mass with their wife against their side. her eyes were always so heartbroken, but that's something he's allowed. it's his right as a man. how can you fault his nature?

queerness is wrong, though. it's an abomination. you can't even confess to your sins because the church won't let you inside anymore. eddie can feel guilty for cheating on marisol all he wants, but guilt over something he's allowed is still better than bone deep shame over something he has not control over being.

and eddie's gonna hate himself for it! he's done so much to unlearn the worst parts of machismo, the parts that hurt him the most as a child, but god is it easy to fall back on when you need an excuse. his dad was absent most of his life growing up, but that's okay because he was providing. men don't sin for no reason. their wife isn't enough, they need to provide for their kids, their kids are a little too queer and need fixing. a heavy hand is better than an eternity in hell.

it's so complex. it's such a complicated relationship with himself, with religion, with being latino. god can judge him but how will he handle the judgment from his family. the church can hate him all they want but how is he supposed to handle the side eyes and whispers when he shows up to his high school friend's wedding and there's no plus one because it's either show up single or show up with a man.

men are allowed sin. men are allowed moral failing.

men are not allowed queerness.

and as much as eddie has been doing so much good work to unlearn that, the nasty, nails in your skin part of growing up latino are just as impossible to shed as the skin that covers your bones.

(also, yes, i did watch b99 and i remember that!)

[xzhdjsj]

Regrets and Roses

Isaac x Reader

It's time for you to leave him. (Isaac's pov)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning."

It's a normal day, just another normal day. That’s what I tell myself, it's what I want to believe. But truthfully, it's the day I either make the best decision of my life or the worst. Only time can tell the outcome and what taunts me the most is that after it's done, I can never undo it.

The last few months were unarguably the best of my life. All this time I've been surviving, but for a short period of time I lived, I felt deserving of the air that I breathe. Not only that, I loved and I still do, I probably always will. That just makes today worst for me, for us both.

I helped them haul the last of their luggage into my car, then watched as they stood with their hand on their hips observing our efforts.

"That should be all." They sighed.

I don't respond, just nodded curtly, and pulled the trunk closed.

The drive was silent, there was nothing I could say to fix this, and they knew there was nothing they could say that would change my mind. Still, I miss their idle chatter. It makes long drives bearable, and they tend to go by faster when we talk. Right now, it would definitely help the dull ache in my chest.

-

"Heh so this is it." They murmur, staring at the aircraft that takes to the sky but flashes me a smile before saying, "If you want to stop me, now's your chance."

"You know I won't."

I reach for their hand. One last time, I want to feel it against my cheek. The way they held me and comforted me when I needed it.

"I know." They say, letting my hand guide their own to my face, following it with their eyes until it rested against my skin. I closed my eyes, basking in the gentleness of their touch.

"Fuck" They diverted their gaze, looking towards the night sky as tears welled in their eyes. It made their eyes shine brightly, just not with the curiosity and amusement I've grown to adore.

"I knew this was coming but I- I'm sorry- I just, I’m second guessing this because I know I'm about to lose the best thing that's ever happened to me." Their voice cracked and tears stream down their cheek despite their efforts to hold them back.

I reach out to wipe them away and they sighed. The way they leaned into my palm was enough for me to second guess my decision too. It made me want to pack their bags back into my car and drive them all the way back home while I listen to them sing along to the radio.

That would be a dream, though that's all it is, a dream. I know I can't stop them, we agreed to this. Both them and I. We agreed it would be better if they had a normal life, even if it meant leaving me. It's what they deserve. Though right now, if feels like it was my decision and they respected it for my sake.

There’s no taking it back anyways. Especially now, not even hours later, as I watch another aircraft take off into the sky, only this time I'm alone and standing in the rain. I’m cold and wet, but at least it hides my tears.

-

My house has never felt emptier. Only a few steps in, despair hits me hard and fast. There's no greeting at the door, no blanket thrown across the couch as the TV blends into the background, no movements in my kitchen or scent wafting through the house of something delicious being made. Worst of all, when I push open their bedroom door, there's nothing there but an empty room with a bed. It's all gone, they're all gone and there's nothing will ever be the same again.

I sat on what used to be their bed and finally recognise the feeling in my chest. Regret. It's all I'll feel for a while, but I'll get past it. I hope I’ll get past it.

I let my back drop onto the bed, sighing as my eyelids fall closed. At the very least, the bed still smells like them. It gives me a speck of comfort in the dark caverns of my mind. When it wasn't enough, I reach for a pillow, burying my face into it. It smelled like their hair; it reminds me of how I'd kiss the crown of their head whenever we hugged. Even if I didn’t want to, its hard not to reminisce.

I squeeze the pillow closer, then let my arms drop onto the bed. My right hand drops onto something that’s completely different texture from the bed sheets and scared me for a split second. I feel around for it, and now it feels like paper. Lazily, I lifted my body off the bed, looking over at the space that the pillow once covered. There was a sheet of paper, neatly folded, sitting beside a single white rose. I tended first to the rose; my arm had bruised the delicate petals. I set it aside on their bedside table out of reach from my destructive touch, the book they’d been reading is still there.

"Isaac, if you're reading this then I've already left, haven't I?

Finally, I open the piece of paper. It was a letter, a letter directed to me. It reads;

It’s crazy how life is, one minute I'll be in your arms and the next I'm on a flight to god knows where. Truthfully, I never wanted to leave at all, I wish I could stay with you until my very last breath. But I also know how stubborn you are and when you're stuck on a decision it's hard to change your mind. At the same time, I don't want to be an extra burden on your shoulders. I don't want you to constantly worry about my safety and always need to look over your shoulder. That's why I accepted your decision as my own too. You don’t deserve the anxiety that it brings. If I could, I wish I’d always be there to take care of you.

I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest with you, but as you said this is for the best right? I don't even know haha

I hope you won't miss me too much, but that seems silly to ask. I know for certain I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so damn much, Isaac. I love you my dear knight and no matter where life takes me, I always will. I'll never forget you and I'm beyond grateful you were part of my life, even for a moment. Take care of yourself my love.

Forever yours,

Your Pickle"

In between the folded letter was a small picture. A picture of us. I almost don't recognize myself. The 'me' that I am with them seems so happy, grinning at their antics and laughing at their jokes.

It’s not fair. The way I feel isn't fair.

The feeling in my chest had escalated to a strangled pain and it was getting hard to breathe. I coughed out sobs and my tears dripped onto the paper and sheets.

I feel so foolish, so fucking foolish. I should’ve known. I was too worried about protecting them that I overlooked the possibility of them feeling like a burden to me. I overlooked many possibilities that could’ve led to them being in agreeance with me. But most of all

I.

Should.

Have.

Known.

I should’ve been more observant. Maybe then I would’ve been able to tell it wasn’t what they wanted.

Acceptance was going to be even more difficult now, and I might never be able to recover from regret. I hate that we only experienced the beginning of what our lives together could've been. Not that I'll ever know now that I've lost it all.

[voldkat]

iterator headcanon masterpost !

i have been cultivating my own little special iterator interpretation while designing them , and i've never quite told anyone about all my headcanons , so i'm making this post :D

i may come back to this to add onto it if i think of more stuff / refine the headcanons i'm unsure of , so check back at this post sometime if you want :)

iterators are divided into three loosely defined generations ;

generation one , the very beginnings of iterator technology

gen 1 iterators are few and far between , with the ancients only starting to dabble into this kind of technology . they're characterized by simpler puppets and usually older superstructure tech .

gen 1 iterators are also separated into 2 vague sub-categories — early gen 1 , and late gen 1 . early gen 1 iterators are the very first proper iterators to have been built , sporting various flaws and design oversights that were later fixed in late gen 1 iterators . the two don't have many differences other than this .

most , if not all group seniors are gen 1 iterators . looks to the moon is early gen 1 , and sliver of straw is late gen 1 .

generation two , during the mass production era

gen 2 iterators are the most common type of iterator , around the time the ancients grew confident in their iterator models and began to experiment . they have the most in-generation variation , a lot of them built with specific modifications and more complex designs .

most gen 2 iterators were built with a secondary purpose in mind , one to improve the ancients' quality of life in some way . things like mathematics , bioengineering , medical help , and sometimes even art . though they still have the main purpose of solving the great problem , some gen 2 iterators chose to instead focus on their secondary purpose more .

no significant harassment , seven red suns , and chasing wind are gen 2 . no significant harassment is a scientific calculator with a built-in graphing tool . i haven't thought of secondary purposes for the other two yet .

generation three , the moments before global ascension

gen 3 iterators are less common than gen 2 iterators , but still outnumber gen 1 iterators . they are incredibly streamlined from thousands of cycles of innovation , but their puppet designs remain relatively simple .

the ancients returned from their burst of creativity to once again make iterators for the sake of iterating alone . at this point , they were getting impatient from the lack of a solution . gen 3 iterators were built with the sole purpose of trying to crack the great problem , with little thought put into anything else .

five pebbles and unparalleled innocence are gen 3 .

iterators have one main color which acts as that iterator's ID . the color is always present on various parts of the iterator , such as their overseers and inspectors , their puppet's eyes , as well as the decor on their puppet's earpieces and antennae . this color is used in broadcast transcripts as well , and most puppets also feature this color in other aspects of their design .

there are more iterators out there than distinct identification colors , so some iterators are bound to end up with very similar colors . extra care is taken to make sure no iterators with similar color IDs have the same name acronym , for the sake of being able to tell apart between them . iterators with similar color IDs are also usually placed far apart , for the convenience of having a unique color for every iterator in a local group .

these IDs are usually stored in hex codes , and are often vibrant and / or colorful . iterators with white , black , or gray IDs are incredibly rare , and gray IDs especially are discouraged . i'm still tweaking around the colors for a lot of my iterator designs , but i can tell you the color IDs of the ones that do have solid designs ;

no significant harassment — #A0FC94

seven red suns — #E11F11

dark tides ( oc ) — #7B506B

red haze ( oc ) — #C68E9B

basically , my interpretation of this room in metropolis ;

despite the distance , the communities living atop iterators are just as connected as the iterators themselves . trade routes are established between cities , communication towers are used to let citizens talk to each other , and their cultures are somewhat intertwined . but , most importantly , a city can communicate to other iterators just as well as it can communicate with their home iterator .

you see those networks of dots and lines on the screens ? those are maps of all the scattered iterators . select one of these nodes — which , in my interpretation , are colored based on the corresponding iterator's color ID — and you will send a communication request for that iterator to respond to . the iterator can choose to accept the request or to block it if they're busy , but a select few special ancients are able to force a transmission in case of emergencies .

there are other faster methods for ancients to contact foreign iterators that don't require directly interfacing with them via a screen , so these screens aren't used very frequently . these screens can be used to contact the home iterator too , who is always highlighted with a simple 'you are here' mark .

multiple different cities can connect to the same iterator at the same time . likewise , multiple different iterators can connect to the same city at the same time . both of these allow for mass transmissions or group meetings for both ancients and iterators .

more to be added !

[tinytinyblogs]

Hii!!!

I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to request something with yandere skz?

I really love your Chan and Minho one's!!

Feel free to ignore this if you want!!

Tutoring Session

Your gentle tutor appears to be growing increasingly agitated, signaling that there's more to be taught.

(Yandere theme) 1,1k words

A narrative drawn from inspiration found on Pinterest

Stray kids masterlist

💬Hey there, apologies for the delay. I've been having an incredibly exhausting month, and it's not quite over yet. However, I wanted to express my gratitude for your request. It's been a while since I've written, and you've given me a reason to start again. I'm aware it's not perfect, especially considering my current mental state, but I'm doing my best. I hope it meets your expectations.

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

The pen hitting the table echoed in a tense silence, stirring unease without clear cause... or perhaps there was. The idea of you being admired by many, with one confession and one secret admirer, left him contemplating: how many more should he weed out? Glancing at his watch, he counted each passing second, eagerly awaiting your arrival for the tutoring session. Once he catches sight of you, once he senses your presence, he swears he wants to keep you all to himself. He admits he's a bit crazy, but if it means having you, he's willing to do whatever it takes. He's always doing that, and don't forget how he made that guy scream in pain when he tried to flirt with you. During the tutoring session, his mind isn't on the lessons; instead, he's consumed with thoughts of how to make sure you stay with him.

He doesn't even entertain the idea of letting you go home afterward. He's meticulously watching your every move, knowing that every tiny detail drives him even crazier. If he releases you now, he'd consider it a loss in this game, wouldn't he? On your end, you might be oblivious to his schemes or perhaps you're in denial due to his innocent façade. As you pause, setting your pen down and sliding the paper over, he eagerly takes it, pretending to make corrections when he's really not. With his gaze fixed on the paper, he noticed your phone lighting up with text notifications from another guy. Jealousy gnawed at him, an unpleasant feeling. As he set the paper down and glanced at your distracted attention on the phone, he observed you for a few moments until you finally noticed. "Finished? Am I doing it right?" you asked, and he simply nodded in response.

As you gather your things, starting to feel a slight panic over him, Felix blocks your attempt to reach for your phone. His hand intercepts it, sliding it out of your reach. "It's not over yet," he asserts in his deep voice. "We could have completed learning those topics from the book, but there's still another matter we must attend to." You gaze at him with an apprehensive expression, noticing a certain aura of danger emanating from him, though you can't quite put your finger on it. "The thing is," he begins, pausing before continuing, "you and those around you seem too close." His eyes now fixate on yours, his demeanor shifting from the sweet tutor you once knew. "And I detest the notion that others believe they can lay claim to you... They could never even fathom such a thing. Why? Because you belong to me, whether you realize it or not."

Slowly withdraw your hand from your phone, feeling a creeping sense of unease. His presence looms larger, his demeanor more intimidating as he leans in closer, causing you to instinctively retreat, your back pressing against the couch, a memory of feeling trapped flickering through your mind. In his deep, resonant voice, he declared, "I could lose everything, but never you." His words, once admired, now sent shivers down your spine. "Oh God, not you," he continued he raises his voice, unleashing all the emotions he feels, causing you to flinch., his gaze piercing into your soul. "I won't allow you to slip away from my life, never." As he drew closer, you couldn't shake the feeling of impending danger. Is it time to push away and flee? He seemed far more menacing than you had ever imagined. Your hand continues to push him away, trembling with fear as panic surges through you.

His grip tightens harshly around your hand, overpowering your feeble attempts to break free. His eyes blaze with anger, as if seeing nothing but red. The fear of losing you completely consumes him, evident in every tense muscle of his body. "Do you even realize the lengths I've gone to just to have you here, under my arm?" His intense gaze pierces into your soul, rendering you unable to look away, trapped by his commanding presence. His firm hand confines you to the couch, while his deep voice resonates throughout the room. "I've done everything, absolutely everything for you." His voice grows increasingly fervent. "I've removed obstacles, shadowed your every move, earned your trust until you relied on me for even the most trivial matters, all for a sliver of your attention." After a moment, he exhales sharply, his breath gradually returning to a more steady rhythm, a hint of calm seeping into his demeanor.

Yet, he remains rooted in place, unwilling to retreat. "If you believe you can simply walk away to another man, think again," he asserts, his voice carrying a weight of warning. Pausing briefly, his hand glides to your cheek, tenderly stroking it, offering a semblance of affection that, instead of melting you, sends shivers down your spine. "You belong to me, and me alone," he declares adamantly. He refuses to entertain any alternative, steadfast in his conviction that you are destined solely for him. It's a truth he's ingrained in his mind, and he implores you to understand and accept it as well. His smile, once so angelic, now fails to evoke the same warmth it once did. Instead, it sends a shiver down your spine, a stark reminder of the unsettling truth beneath the façade. His loving gaze, once cherished, now fills you with a sense of dread, a realization of his true, unsettling nature.

"Did I startle you, my love?" he inquires with a voice dripping with sweetness, a stark contrast to the darkness lurking within. "Forgive me, but perhaps it's for the best that you see me for who I truly am," he continues, planting a kiss gently upon your forehead. "Because this is the reality you'll be facing for the rest of your days – your devoted tutor, boyfriend, or whatever role you choose to assign me." From today until who knows when, you find yourself uncertain about how long you'll remain under his control, consumed by his obsession. "The tutoring session isn't over yet, my darling," he remarks, forcefully moving your phone out of your reach, almost as if discarding it. "There's still so much more for me to teach you." His gaze returns to you, his favored individual in this world. "I'm going to educate you further on what it means to belong to me. Pay close attention, because in my world, there's no room for forgetting. Not when it comes to me," he asserts, his words cutting deep into your heart. "I won't allow you to forget a single thing about me, your beloved." He wore a smirk.

[lover-of-mine]

Hello love, I read your masterpost about color theory and I find the last part about how Eddie is wearing a lot of black in season 7 interesting, because it caught my attention too.

Do you have any more ideas about that? Because every episode we get more moments of Eddie wearing black in important scenes, like him meeting Shannon's clone in today's episode!

Have a good day!

Hi, darlings, thoughts on the black. I have thoughts on the black and I have theories about the black, but I actually only solidified them after talking about it with @stagefoureddiediaz and honestly, if you want costume analyses she's the blog to go because her insights get me mindblown all the time because she talks a lot about patterns I kinda saw but didn't fully understand were there, so seriously, props to her with this one.

But to talk about Eddie in black, I'm gonna go back to Shannon in s2. And his love interests in general.

Shannon was a character that was always wearing color, and she always wore warm, bright tones, and considering Eddie's earthy, somewhat muted, still army colors palette, she literally brings color to his life. They go as far as making this quite literal in 213, because the hospital scene, Shannon is literally a point of color in this very dark moment, since most people around are in darker colors, her orange stands out. And obviously, the yellow she died in is a staple.

Ana was very muted when it was about the 2 of them, she was allowed color when it was about Chris, but about Eddie, it was black, white, or soft colors.

Marisol also follows that same pattern, she's mostly in black and white adjacent stuff, but she was allowed color during Chris' date and when Eddie was daydreaming Shannon. But with Marisol is worse, because Ana was allowed he's baby blue outfits, and Eddie had color around her, Marisol is just whites, greys, and blacks. And Eddie too. She brings no color to the table.

And the thing is, Eddie has been looking for the yellow. In very simple terms the dude has been looking for the color he thinks Shannon was supposed to bring to his life. I think that was even more exemplified by the way the daydream about Shannon didn't have the usual muted colors flashbacks have in the show.

And the thing is, black is the absorption of all colors, right? Dude is trying to find something to absorb, to get that color, but he has nothing to show for it because these relationships don't bring color to his life in any way. I think this even ties to the way he keeps getting hit by the sun when it comes to Buck or gets some random pops of color even if his outfit is black when he's around Buck, maybe even the random rainbow lens fair that keeps happening this season on him. But he is trying to force something that's not there and it's never gonna be there, if you mix black with white all he's gonna keep getting is grey. And when you think about the implications of black, the association with mystery, something hidden, and, yeah, even mourning, Eddie being consistently in black can also be a way for him to hide behind the ghost of Shannon and never face what he's actually searching for, because he can't get what he wants. He will never have the future he planned with Shannon, he's never gonna be able to fix the mistakes he's made. He needs Shannon to tell him is okay he fucked up, but that can never happen because she's dead so he's holding on to the widow status. It's something I talk about a lot, Eddie was always written to be the tortured widower, even when Shannon was alive, he already had the archetype, and considering we found out they met when they were 14, Shannon is literally all he knows, but the Eddie we meet and deal with, only knows her when she left him and he's searching for that color the plans you can only make when you're a teenager going through you first love give. But considering the black he also has nothing to give this woman he meets in this quest, he's not reflecting anything back because he wants a do-over and that's not something someone can give him.

Also, no one asked but I gotta say it, I am obsessed with the way Kim is blue where Shannon was yellow/orange, but she is also in neutral colors when interacting with Eddie.

And he is still very much in black interacting with her.

But the blue/yellow thing is interesting because when you look at a color wheel, they are on opposite sides. They are complementary colors and complementary colors create contrast and it's very deliberate the way Shannon was warm-toned and Kim is cool-toned.

But the idiot (affectionate) is still in black, because he's not reflecting what he needs, he's absorbing what he thinks he wants.

But that's just a theory, a game theory. (Sorry, I read this back and my brain filled the space with this, I had to say it okasoasoaksas)

if you read this, I love you 💜

[vulpixisananimal]

(you leave for one loop. One day. And it becomes a blinding disaster. Oh yes, Stardust gets a loop where they can relax and don't need to worry about anything and look what happens.)

(Because of you.)

(I did not do anything.)

(Oh sure! Was I mistaken? Was I mistaken thinking that the one who's always causing trouble, always making things harder, was the one who messed everything up!?!)

(I had to do what I had to do. It's fixed now.)

(Fixed?!? Is that all you care about?!?)

(You grip the sides of the sink. You might be sick again at this rate. You couldn't tell if the nausea was from looping or from the mental argument you were having.)

(It's fine! Really, it's wonderful even! You could share what you learned now. And figure all this out. It's fine.)

(But first, cue Isabeau.)

"You alright, Sif?--" >> "--Just some loopy stuff, not that bad, I'll meet you for breakfast!"

(It's so easy to slip back into the old routine. It's comfortable. It's easy. You can just zone out and respond in exactly the right way. And yet, it made your skin crawl. After all you've been through you're still supposed to memorize a play? What a joke.)

(You go through the motions, get fully dressed, go downstairs, greet your party. Quesadillas again. They'd probably still be tasty, though you wont want them for a bit after these loops.)

"You sure you're alright??--" >> "--Do you think that's why you're sick again?"

(You were zoning out a lot. Change things up.)

"That would make sense, craft exhaustion, right?"

"Alright eat up then 'Frin, gotta get your energy back." (Nille gave you more food like last time.)

"At least let me finish first breakfast." (You say, smiling.) "I am hungry though."

(You still weren't sure if you felt better or worse after taking some time to relax. Although, that 'relaxing' time was cut short. You take a bite of the quesadilla.)

(??!?!!?!)

"Is Bonnie feeling okay?" (You ask.)

"They woke up with a headache, I think it's from that bonk from yesterday." (Nille looked worried at you bringing it up.) "Just, don't mention the burnt food."

(Odile spoke up from behind her book.) "It shouldn't be from that bang on the head. No concussion, any booboos they had Mirabelle healed up."

"Well what else would it be then."

(You quietly eat up the quesadilla. Just think for a second, Loop. It's probably nothing. Just focus on the task at hand.)

(You and I know that it's impossible for the past to change. If something did change, it would be us who did it.)

(So why does Bonnie have a headache?)

(. . .)

(You're still not giving me all the details~)

(It does not matter, it will distract you.)

(You're afraid arent you~ You're afraid that things are going to change~)

(As are you.)

(I'M at least trying to-)

(You bite your tongue.)

"Blinding-" (You exclaim.) "Ow."

"Everything alright, Siffrin?" (Odile asked.)

"Oh I just bit my tongue, eating too fast."

"Aw no!!" (Isa said, concerned.) Want me to check if it's ok??"

"So you can kiss it better?" (You reply, almost instinctually.)

"!??!?!!!?!?"

"HA!"

"Get a ROOM you two!"

(Isabeaus face was getting off shade, it took you a second before you processed what you just said and what it meant.)

"OH. UH. I DIDNT??? MEAN, UH???"

(you hide yourself in your hat. That's??? So embarrassing?!?!? Oh stars you said that as a JOKE. "I banged my elbow kiss it better." Stupid, stupid Loop! You're making such a fool of yourself.) ". . . S-sorry."

"Noit'sokI'mokit'sfine." (And now Isa was covering his face.)

(. . .)

(Not a WORD from you.)

(There's a bit of an awkward pause before casual conversation starts again. You mostly just zone out untill Bonnie comes back.)

(They looked. . . Fine? It was hard to tell from last time, maybe a bit more tired looking? Nothing physicaly wrong, not that it looked like, they caught you staring at stuck out their tongue at you and make a "nyeeh" noise. You stick your tongue out back.)

"Quite done, you two?" (Odile said without looking up.)

"'Frin started it."

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Alright maybe I did."

(Mirabelle gasped.) "Siffrin? Admiting to cheekyness??"

"Truly a dark day." (Odile commented.)

(You all chuckle.)

(Here again. Back at the explination table. You know you could keep the loops a secret this time, but no. You needed help, you did ask for it after all~)

(Might as well make it fun, though. You look around and see a few scraps of note paper, you grab one and quickly write something down. Next, who to pass it to. . .)

(Odile is still in her book, Mirabelle was checking on Bonnie, Isabeau. . . Passing a note to Isa right now's a bad look. Nille, then. You crumple the paper into a ball and gently throw it at her as she's about to take a bite of food. She pauses and looks at you. You hold up a finger and wink.)

(You lean back in your chair.) "Let's skip going to the defenders, when we head there later today it just becomes a whole mess."

"You looped again!?!?--" >> "--I'll look for one of those next time."

(You hear a stiffled laugh come from Nille, looking over, she had de-crumpled the note and looked at it. She gave you a look and held it up.)

"So do you just have the whole crabbing day memorized, Siffy?" (The note was that whole exchange written down. Nille passes the note to Mirabelle to look.)

(You stick out your tongue.) "Maybe~"

"What's our next line then, Siffrin." (Odile had closed her book, now quite curious.)

"Well, bonnies next line is 'that's crabbing stupid.'"

"Language."

"No that comes after Bonnies line." (Ok this is kind of fun actually)

"Alright, but what's your next line." (Mirabelle says, curious.)

(You nod.) "That this will be try number four, or five, First was me and Odile at the library, rest of you to the Defenders place, Bonnie came running back to us because Mira was framed for kidnapping Bonnie."

"!?!?!?--" >> "--Language."

(There's a bit of a pause as everyone catches up to the exchange that just happened, and laughs.)

"Well, at least you're making light of it?"

"Tee hee, I try~" (Now, how to explain things quickly.) "Next loop we all went to the Defenders and bumped into an old friend of Isabeaus, going by Ramos now. We got split up, Ramos and Isa were acting suspicious, we confronted Ramos and they had a wishing star pendant like from yesterday. There was also a strong mint smell around. And then last loop Mira Isa and Odile went to figure out if mint was a sign of anything."

"That's, quite a lot to take in." (Said Odile.) "Well, did we find anything?"

(You nod) "Yep, a strong mint smell is assosiated with Mind Craft. It makes sense really, with how Isa and Stardust acted~"

". . . Stardust?"

(You wince. Stars! STARS! Oh great you were just TALKING and explaining things and DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Alright, fine, fine, you'd have to explain this anyways probably.)

(You could try again.)

"R-right, aha, well. . ." (You shook your head, lights, camera...) "Well it's a bit of a story, Mirabelle had the wonderful idea that we take a loop to rest up! Oh very, very thoughtful~"

"Uh, th-thank you?" (Mira looked confused, well, everyone did a little.) "Did, did it go alright?"

"Oh it did! For a bit. And then our good friend Ramos showed up. Stardust, Siffrin, thought it would be a wonderful idea to talk to them to figure out a few things. Buuuuuuuut then Ramos grabed their hand and he started acting ~very different~"

(You felt like you were going to have a heart attack. When was the last time you talked to your party? REALLY talked to them. It was on the final day, wasn't it? And even then you were all worried about Stardust. You just need to keep acting.)

"Let me guess. Siffrin was effected by mind craft in some way, but you weren't?" (Odile, like usual, was ahead of the curve.)

"Correct~ Hello by the way, your friendly neighborhood Loop here to help~"

"Oh! Good to talk to you again then!" (Mirabelle said excitedly.)

"Yeah. Lot cooler than 'Frin." (Bonnie said all cheekily.)

"A devistating blow to someone not even here. Are they around at all, by the way?" (Odile asked.)

"Well. . ."

(We shouldn't bring him to front. They are likely still effected by mind craft.)

(And how would you know that?)

(I don't.)

(Exactly. You tap your chin.) "Well I could get them, but we're worried that mind craft is still effecting him."

"Still?"

"But, didn't you turn back time?!?"

"Yeah, it never happened then, right?"

(You shrug.) "Kinda. Memories stay. Our body keeps some of it's changes, scars and muscle growth, but not wounds. We keep our fighting experience too, naturally. And for some reason, equipment."

"Oh right... Like the bow my classmate got me." (Mirabelle touched their bow, the same one.) "That really hurt my head to think about."

(Nille rubbed her head.) "Well if you get them we can check easily. And if Siffy's still gotten mind crabbery we'll..."

"Then we make sure Loop doesn't get effected either!!" (Isabeau said confidently.)

"Or undo it. It should be easy enough, unless-" (Odile starts)

"-it was powered by a wish." (You finish with her.)

". . This is weird." (Nille says.)

"Give me a day and I could recite those two days in Dormont by heart~"

"Even the sleepover?"

"Especially the sleepover."

(You all chuckle a bit at that. It's. . . Kind of nice, being able to be open about this. Even if you wish it could be in better circumstances.)

"I've got two plans today." (You say, as you take another bite of food.) "First, we'll all check on Stardust and see how he's handling things~ "

"Rude to talk and eat, Loopert." (Nille sais smugly.)

(You choke on your food. Loopert?!?!)

"Hah! Loopert."

"Hehe. It's a cute nickname."

(You sink down in your cloak and quickly finish that bite of food.) "Any chance we could rethink the nickname?"

"No!!! You're Loopert now!!!"

(Great.)

(Well if we they wont remember at least.)

"Alright alright, well the other thing I want to do is try talking to Ramos agian."

"Huh."

"So daring..."

"Are you sure about that, Loop." (Mirabelle seemed worried.)

"Well, I'm curious how they'll react. The last two times we've bumped into eachother they've been. . . acting strange. Oh, and I would like to talk to them one on one if possible."

"You do realize if that mind craft stuck this could be increddibly risky." (Odile looked concerned. Understandibly so.)

"I'd like to be around in case they try anything. . ." (Said Isabeau.)

(You nod.) "Well, if you all could stay nearby in case something does happen, that would be great."

"Why do you need to talk to them alone anyways?" (Nille asked.)

"W-well. . ." (How to put this.) "I don't want to be rude, but you all are terrible actors."

"Ah. . ."

"Oh. . ."

"Ouch, but fair."

"Sorry." (You shrug.) "One of the best advantages of not talking about the loops was knowing exactly how things go. But we made a promise to not keep secrets soooo~"

"No no, I understand Loop." (Mirabelle looked a bit dejected.) "I don't know if I'd be able to keep a straight face."

"Heh, I could do it." (Bonnie said smugly.)

"Sure you could Boniface." (Nille replied.)

"Yeah!!! I could!!!"

"I'll go sign you up for theater classes then."

"NO!!!!"

(Heh, that would be a sight to see.)

(At least we have a plan.)

[weaveandwood]

Weave and Woods Chapter 10: A Wondrous Thing

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Auroria is exhausted from all the perils of the Shadow Cursed Lands and Gale tries his best to get her to actually sleep. The Harpers throw a party after a successful mission rescuing prisoners from Moonrise Towers.

He jumped up from the barstool and made a beeline for the door, pushing past a group of gnomes and two tieflings. Relief washed over him. They’re back, and they were successful. He went out into the courtyard, and saw her smiling and laughing, celebrating with some Harpers who had greeted her and Lae’zel first. She was safe, unharmed. She made eye contact with him and gave a small wave, which he returned. He felt his heart swell inside his chest, unable to be contained anymore. I love her.  He was a man possessed. He strode up to her, cutting through the Harpers, bypassing Lae’zel. He saw no one else but her. Only her. Always her.

AN: I love them so much. Thank you for reading this fluffy sweet chapter <3

“You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.” Auroria yawned, her head resting on the bar at the back of the Last Light Inn. “I am exhausted.”

Gale pulled up a stool and sat next to her. It had been a long few days since they got to the Last Light Inn, and she had been going non-stop, sleeping only a couple hours here and there between a flurry of activity. There was finding Dammon and getting Karlach’s engine fixed, getting her ribs crushed by Karlach’s first hug (and thirty seven hugs after that in the past few days), discovering the mysterious man sleeping in the room on the first floor, delivering the news to Arabella that her parents were dead, saving Isobel from a corrupted Flaming Fist, defeating a caravan on their way to Moonrise towers which granted them a pixie’s blessing to be immune to the shadow curse, and now she was developing a plan to both infiltrate Moonrise Towers and rescue the tieflings and the gnomes from the prison. She and Lae’zel poured over maps from previous scouting missions with the Harpers for hours before nodding to each other, satisfied with what they came up with. That was when she went to the bar by herself and finally sat down for the first time all day. 

“Why don’t you go take the night off and get some sleep?”

“If I take a night off, then these innocent people are still needlessly trapped in a prison and could die. We told them to come this way - I feel responsible for them. Lae’zel and I are going to go to Moonrise tonight. We can sneak into the prisons easily under the guise of being True Souls, and we have a real chance to break them out without violence. Or much violence anyway,” she laughed softly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to form in her eyes from her deep felt guilt about her part in the plight of the tieflings.

“I’m worried about you.” He said as he reached out, covering her hand with his. “You don’t have to take on everything - we are all capable. I’ve asked you before to let us carry more weight - a burden shared is a burden halved.” 

Her eyes softened as she turned to him and she gave him a half smile. “After being on my own for so long, it’s hard to relinquish control. Please understand me, I’m trying, but I’m used to doing everything myself. If you were talking to the Ora of six months ago, I’d already be at the towers alone, probably getting myself killed or something close to it. At least now, I have company who can talk me out of anything extremely rash when I let my feelings guide me instead of my brain.” She sat up straight, raising both arms over her head to stretch. She saw his eyes flick up and down quickly, trying to be subtle - the stretch was a calculated move on her part. “I promise I’ll sleep tonight. Full eight hours and everything, ranger’s honor.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you for worrying about me. It feels…nice. No one has worried about me in so long, I forgot what it felt like for someone to care if I live or die.” Auroria reached out this time, grabbing his hand, intertwining her fingers between his. “You’ve shown me that care since the beginning of this strange journey. And…it’s appreciated. I just want you to know that.” 

He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, a soft laugh escaping as he nodded. “Perhaps taking care of each other is what we do. You’ve done that for me since I confided in you about my condition, almost no questions asked. How could I not do the same for you? Our party would suffer greatly without you. I would suffer greatly without you.” 

“Well, I would imagine, since I’m the one who got all those magical artefacts for you,” she teased, trying to clarify for herself if he was speaking pragmatically or something else. She hoped it was something else.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Ora,” he said softly. 

Her face flushed slightly, the tips of her ears turning pink as she considered the implications of what he was saying. She leaned forward a little, closing some of the distance between them. 

“Hmm. And what did you mean then, Gale?” She smiled at him, her eyes taking in his handsome face as he looked at her like she hung the moon. Please let him love me , she pleaded to no one in particular. 

A throat cleared behind Gale. Auroria looked over his shoulder and saw Lae’zel, standing with her arms crossed. “It’s time.”

Auroria nodded, trying to mask her internal disappointment. “Alright, let me go get something I can smash things with.”

“Smash things?” Gale asked, brows furrowed in confusion, the lines between them becoming prominent. She loved those lines that showed up when he was deep in thought. 

Auroria smiled brightly at him. “We’re going to break down the back walls of the cells. The scouts said the tower hasn’t been maintained well so it should be relatively easy as long as we can get out before they realize what we have done.” She watched a smile grow on his face. “Good plan, don’t you think?”

“An excellent plan, though I’d expect nothing less from you. Take my quarterstaff, it’s been quite the asset for me, very useful in smashing, and I would love for it to be in your capable hands,” he said, motioning to the staff that had been leaning against the bar. 

“Thank you, I’ll return it in one piece when we get back, hopefully with freed prisoners and a good story to tell.” Feeling emboldened by their conversation, she kissed his cheek as she got up and picked up the staff, meeting up with Lae’zel who was already waiting on the other side of the room. 

“Well, things with you and Gale seem to be going…well,” she said. 

Auroria smiled. “I think so, too. Now, let’s go rescue some prisoners.”

******

Gale waited at the bar, watching the door for Ora’s return. After getting hugged no less than four times by Karlach, he sent her to hug Astarion, much to Astarion’s dismay. He heard the barstool next to him scraping as it slid back and found Wyll now sitting beside him. 

“I saw you and Ora talking earlier, before she left. It looks like things are blossoming between you?” he asked, having become a confidante to Gale over these past weeks regarding Ora. Gale couldn’t believe he was ever even remotely jealous of Wyll for being someone who so easily could wear his heart on his sleeve. He very clearly loved her as well, though Wyll took time to clarify after the Bibberbang incident that it was just in a friendly manner. The two had grown close ever since, finding they were similar in many aspects, namely matters of the heart. 

Gale nodded, “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting it. How could I? Cast aside from Mystra, cursed orb, locked in my tower for a year of my own volition, tadpole abduction. Who would have thought it would lead me to her?” He took a sip of wine. “Now with Moonrise Towers and Mystra’s command looming over me, I wonder if it is fair to continue on as we are. A small, hopeful part of me believes that time must not be wasted, though.”

“You know me, Gale, I am a romantic. I say go for it - don’t waste time. Love is the most powerful thing on this plane and is capable of working wonders.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll think it over. Thank you, Wyll,” he nodded as Wyll got up to go get his hourly hug from Karlach, who was proving to be quite the menace now that she wasn’t dangerous to touch.

Hours passed. He tapped his fingers on his thighs as he drank wine and read from a book he had found laying around, forgotten by someone. Attempted to read, really - he had glanced over the same four pages at least ten times. He felt the tug of Mystra’s command once again and shook his head as he contemplated the moment of the Absolute’s destruction as well as his own, closing the book and downing the rest of his wine when he heard a commotion outside. They’re back.

He jumped up from the barstool and made a beeline for the door, pushing past a group of gnomes and two tieflings. Relief washed over him. They’re back, and they were successful. He went out into the courtyard, and saw her smiling and laughing, celebrating with some Harpers who had greeted her and Lae’zel first. She was safe, unharmed. She made eye contact with him and gave a small wave, which he returned. He felt his heart swell inside his chest, unable to be contained anymore.

I love her. 

He was a man possessed. He strode up to her, cutting through the Harpers, bypassing Lae’zel. He saw no one else but her. Only her. Always her. 

“Gale? Are you oka-” 

He put his hands on each side of her face and kissed her deeply, surrounded by cheering Harpers, and even a smiling Lae’zel, who he thought he heard say “ Tchk. Finally.” The feeling of her lips against his was everything he thought it would be - no, it was more. It was perfect. And when she closed her eyes and kissed him back? No magic in all the planes could even hope to compare. 

Reality came trickling back in, slowly, then all at once. He broke the kiss and stepped back, clearing his throat. “Ah, apologies, I got caught up in all the celebrations. Congratulations on a successful mission,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Ora laughed then, and handed him his quarterstaff back. “Well I suppose if that’s the reward for a successful mission, I’ll have to make sure to be successful more often.”

A Harper came up, shoving a cup of wine into their hands - everyone was in a celebratory mood, a tangible success after so much hardship and turmoil was much needed. She clinked her cup to his. “To a successful mission, a safe place to camp, and good company.” They both took a drink before she was pulled away by Karlach for a welcome back hug. They were surrounded by people and yet his eye was only drawn to her. Her bright smile and cheerful laughter were a salve in this blighted land. 

He raised his cup, “To you, Ora.”

The evening passed, the celebration finally dying down after the revelry lasted well into the night. He found Ora back where their day had started, with her head on the bar, struggling to keep her eyes open. Drink and lack of sleep were most likely taking a toll on her, though at some point in the evening she did have the foresight to remove her armor.

“Ora, I don’t think you will last another minute if we don’t get you to bed,” he said, sitting next to her again. She opened one of her eyes and smiled at him from her uncomfortable resting place. Oh, she is definitely exhausted.

“You want to take me to bed, Gale?” she giggled before sitting up and leaning over to him. “I want you to take me to bed, too,” she whispered in his ear. She is exhausted and definitely drunk.

He smiled and laughed softly. “Yes, I want to take you to your tent and put you in your bedroll so you can get that full eight hours you promised me this afternoon, remember?” He took her hand as she stood up and supported her as she walked so she didn’t lose her footing in her state. 

“Hmm, too much wine, not enough sleep,” she slurred, leaning against him. He tried not to think about how good she felt pressed to his side.  

“Yes, exactly.”

They continued walking to their campsite, nestled at the edge of Isobel’s ward to protect from the shadow curse. He led her to her tent, settling her down onto her bedroll, sitting beside her for a moment. Just until she falls asleep, he told himself.

“There we go. Now, eight hours, no less. If anyone even thinks about waking you up early in the morning, they will have to face an angry wizard armed with a fireball and a big stick.” That got a laugh out of her as she got comfortable. He would cherish that sound until the end of his days.

“My hero.”

He moved to get up, to allow her her privacy but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Stay with me tonight?” His heart dropped. He wanted to more than anything, but not with her in this state. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, but he also didn’t want to hurt her feelings, put any cracks in this beautiful night, this wondrous thing happening between them. He smiled and kissed the back of her hand.

“I would love nothing more, Ora, but you need to sleep, and I need to be able to guard your tent in the morning.” He moved to cover her up as she hummed in agreement, eyes already closed. He brushed a stray hair from her face and stayed beside her until her breathing deepened and she fell into a serene, restful sleep. 

Back in his tent, he thought he might explode, even with the orb stabilized. He wanted to tell her everything. His feelings, his fears, his desires. He wanted to kiss her without apologies, without excuses about being swept up in the moment. He wanted to hold her in his arms while they made love under the stars. He wanted it all with her, and hoped that she wanted the same, even considering…everything. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would tell her, and he knew exactly how.

I love her.