#I WANT TO SEE TWO SOFT BROTHERS WHO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER PERFECTLY

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[thisonehere]

Can you write about yandere MK1 Kuai Liang getting jealous of female reader and Smoke's growing relationship and kidnaps the reader to try to convince her they are meant for each? (Maybe a bonus scene where Tomas goes to save her)😁

Yandere!Kuai x Reader

A/n: Oooo that's pretty dark...love it! I never really did a gull on yandere fic so this should be interesting lol

Tags: Request, Drabble, Mk AU, NSFW, Yandere

C/w: things get kinda dark, Kidnapping, light torture, starvation, vomiting, violence, happy(ish) ending

"Please, you have to understand...this is the best for you."

Kuai assured you as he tightened the ropes around your wrists. He had asked you to come into a private room with him, he said it was important, an emergency with Tomas. Before you knew it, he overpowered you and then everything went black. When you awoke your arms were bound to the bedframe in some strange room. You fought desperately at the bindings, maybe almost getting them loose. And then Kuai walked in. "Thank the Elder Gods, you're awake."

At the sight of him, you felt the pounding in your head. You screamed at him in confusion. He shushes you so calmly, as if he didn't attack you. You looked into his eyes and saw a crazed look in it. Like a predator looking down at its helpless prey, ready to pounce.

Kuai had always wanted you. He was so sure you wanted him as well. How couldn't you? He was the only one for you just as you were the only one for him. Even better, he was the best of the brothers. Tomas, though Kuai loved him, was too soft...too broken to be loved. Bi-Han was a prideful hothead. He, in his mind, was the perfect brother. Surely you had to see it. He was loved by so many, regarded with honor and praise by Liu Kang and so many others. He had the love of the people, but he wanted yours as well, all of it. He refused to share it.

The closer you grew together, more of your friends ghosted you, more of your family suddenly stopped seeing you, anyone who so much as tried to flirt with you suddenly went missing, you seemed to be in constant danger and Kuai would always be there to save you, leaving you with no choice but to stay with him. At that point you clung to him that your very life seemed to depend on him.

He was so sure you were all his...then you and Tomas happened. Words cannot describe the fury he developed. He loved Tomas greatly...but you were his, not Tomas's. Kuei can't count how many times he has served in anger watching you two be together. But you didn't know about this for a second, he seems so happy for the both of you. You had no idea that he was in your room watching you and him sleep, that he had been following you to, that he has been taking things like your clothes and even a lock of your hair to smell as he touched himself.

He knew you were never anything official you being with Tomas was like cheating on him, playing in his face as you happily paraded your little affair with his brother like the malevolent whore you were. "My first thought...My first thought was to kill you, I won't lie..." Kuai said as he pet caresses your cheek, a sweet smile on his face. The image of him strangling in you flashes past his eyes, he softly chuckles. "But before that...I think you owe it to me and yourself to give us a chance." His voice was so sweet, so soft, his touch was warm, his smile was kind, he seemed like such a beautiful soul...if only you knew about this devil's true form.

"This is Insanity!" You try to argue "Kuai, I don't-please just let me go, please. I-I promise, I won't tell anyone, please." Kuai just stared at you, perfectly calm as if he expected this. "We belong together, Y/n" he says finally. "I won't release you until you understand that."

"W-What about Tomas!?" Kuai's smile flinched slightly at the mention of his brother. "I know you two have a...bond, but soon you'll forget all about him. You won't think about another man, Im the only one for you after all "

---

"Have you seen Y/n?" Concern was heavy in Tomas's voice. He hasn't seen you in days, he is getting really scared now. He spent hours pacing across the floor worrying where you were, he got a little more paper, her stopped eating as much, he even stopped sleeping, he was so scared for you how could he care for such things when you were missing?

"No, I am sorry, brother." Kuai looked at his brother sadly. Hearing this made Tomas's heart sink lower. He began to bite at his nails in nervousness. Where could you be, are you okay? Did he do something that caused you to avoid him? Oh gods, he would do anything to see you. Kuai noticed the dark circle around Tomas's eyes, he laid a hand on his shoulder, his gaze softened. "Don't worry, Tomas, I am certain that Y/n us okay. She has a good reason for all of this, I sure." His smile is a slight comfort, his words put him at a somewhat ease. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing he hopes that your okay.

--

How long has it been? You wonder. The last time you counted was a month and 3 weeks, but wherever Kuai moved you didn't have any windows or any outlet to let you see the outside world. You touched your hollow belly as you rumbled, Kuai hadn't fed you for what felt like a week, the punishment for you trying to escape. You were so tired, so thirsty, so sleep deprived. Kuai left you a thin mattress, a blanket, and a small pillow, but how could you sleep through something like this. You spent most of the time staring at the wall, or what you thought was a wall, the room was so dimly lit that you could barely tell and your eyes were puffy from hours of crying.

You wondered about Tomas, was he thinking about you too. Maybe he thought ghosted him and moved on. No, he was no doubt still wondering about you, probably really sad, Tomas really loved you. And you, perhaps you took it all for granted, you didn't take him seriously enough, maybe. All you knew is that if you ever saw him again, you'd hold him and never let go. You'd rather him than Kuai any day. All this time, you had thought he was the level headed and calm brother, the good one. But being here, after all that Kuai has done to you, it has made you rethink things immensely. Perhaps that is what Kuai wanted, for every to believe that he was the good one. He used Bi-Han's actions, every outburst and every time he snapped and was mean, to make himself look good. At least Bi-Han was blatant about who he truly was and didn't hide, he wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing like his Kuai.

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted as you hear the door's lock clicking open. The door slowly swings open and light is poured into the room, you haven't seen light in so long that it burned your eyes to see it. It made it even harder to look as Kuai enters, his face is so calm and pleasant looking, it made you sick to see it. He smiles at you warmly and you feel your stomach churn as you try to avoid looking at him. "I have a gift for you, a treat. You have been so good for me that I had to reward you." He held a plate of moon cakes and a glass of milk, something he didn't give you often. He gently lays it next to and stays near it, you had to crawl over and eat it, the chain attached to the collar around your neck made it hard hard to reach it. You mumbled a thanks under your breath but just enough for him to hear you, it was painful to do it, but you were so hungry that you were willing to swallow your pride to swallow even a bit of sustenance.

He smiles as he watches you, "You are most welcome, beloved." You didn't like that word, and you like how he reached out to caress your face. But you didn't fight back, you were too scared to. If you made one wrong move then it would be likely that he'd hurt you. So you just sat there as he looked at you with that sickening smile. "We belong together, Y/n. Tomas is good, but you should be with me. You must feel it like I do. Just give yourself to me and I'll give you a better place to stay, maybe even let you go outside, Fang Jian is so beautiful this time of year. I would love to hold your hand in the sun, make love to you in the fields." The idea of him on top of you, smiling as he pumped into you, oh gods, this was a nightmare. You would sooner let an infected Tarkatan take you here and now than that.

You structure your face to give a demure expression, giving the illusion that you're actually considering such a thing. This is enough for Kuai, he smiles at seeing you seemingly considering it. "Please think about this. Think about us. Tomas loves you...but I adore you." And with that he kisses you softly on the forehead, rising to his feet and leaves. As the door closes, all of the light is that once flooded the room now slinks away back behind the door, leaving in darkness again. You tried to force another bite down, tried not to think about anything. But it fights it way up from your throat, through your mouth, and spills into the floor. You clung tightly to yourself as you begin to sob uncontrollably.

You can't take this anymore, you have to escape...be it in life or by death.

---

It has been almost 2 months, where are you!? Tomas barely got any sleep, he got up early in the morning and late in the evening to search for you. He won't stop looking for you, he won't give up on you. Kuai and the so many other members of the clan aid him in his search. It's like you disappeared from the face of the earth. "Did you find anything? Any possible trace where Y/n might be?" Tomas said as he saw Kuai enter the room. Kuai sadly shakes his head appearing guilty ridden at his failure. "No trace of her, I have spoken with Liu Kang, he'll Raiden and Kung Lao in searching." He lied.

Tomas sighed with relief, knowing that Liu Kang and his champions would be siding with him at some ease. They'll surely be a great aid, maybe you'll be found. Though he did feel a bit anxious about himself, this was a being who knowingly sacrificed Tomas's family just to help his keep his timeline "perfect". But he was so worried over you that he couldn't care less who was helping him, just as long as they helped get you back. He looked back into his brother's eyes, hopeful, he couldn't help but notice an upset look on his face. Like he was internally seething about something. "Kuai, are you-"

"I am well, I am just...so worried about Y/n. Anything could be happening to them right now. She could be getting tortured, or alone in a dark and cold cellar, or-" Tomas wanted to listen to his brothers words...but he couldn't help but notice the left side of his face. 4 small cuts decorated it.

---

Kuai is going to kill you, you're sure of it. You're so scared, you hugged yourself tightly and you rolled up into a ball. You were too frightened to even think about how empty your stomach was. You swiped at him, marking his face and leaving blood between your fingers. You don't remember why you did it you had blacked out, maybe he tried to force himself onto you, maybe you just snapped and attacked him. All you could remember was Kuai standing over you, a furious look on his face as blood dripped down it. Before you say anything, you felt the back of Kuai's collide with your face, causing you to slam into the ground. He lets out a frustrated sigh.

You tasted the hot, iron blood on your tongue as you tried to regain your barrings. Kuai turned his back from you, his fist clenched, he stormed out of the room and violently slammed the door behind him. Leaving alone in the dark, your heart racing, your eyes leaking with tears.

Now you're here, your face bruised, your body in a tight ball trying to console yourself as you face your possible doom. What does Kuai mean by "convincing"? Oh gods, was he about to murder you in a crime passion, a "if I can't have you no one can" sort of way. It was going to lock you away, somewhere darker, colder, where he would torture you into obedience. Can you imagine it? You left a hollow shell of what you used to be, bent to Kuai's will. No longer you, you're wants now his wants.

---

Tomas must've been crazy, surely he was. Surely Kuai didn't do it, surely he didn't kidnap you. He wouldn't, he'd never. The Kuai he knew and loved was an honorable warrior, a good man. He was kind, he was loving, he was his brother. He'd never do such a genius thing...if that was the case then why was he following his brother? He wondered. After he saw those claw marks on his face. He must've been crazy because those fresh claw marks reminded him so much of you. He remembered how he used to spend hours holding your hand, it was the most intimate thing you've done.

Kuai said it was an animal attack, something he acquired while looking for you. Tomas tried to convince himself that that was the case over an dover again. But that didn't stop him from wondering, didn't stop him from following his brother. He kept a good distance, clinging to the shadows, keeping his feet light, and staying invisible for the most part. Where was his brother going? He didn't stop at any shops as he passed through a market place, he passed Madame Bo's, the only thing in this route was a secret safe house that was established years ago.

Why was he going there though? Maybe it was to meet with a possible source that knew of your whereabouts, he hoped. He prayed silently to any god that was listening, practically begged, for that to be the case. But as they near the building, that seems to be less and less of the case. There was no one around, the house was empty. Kuai marched through the house and opened a door to go into the underground level of the building. He didn't seem to aimlessly wander about, he was marching with a purpose.

He flew down the dimly lit hallway to a door at the end. It had multiple locks attached to it, they looked new, freshly bought and couldn't have been there for more than two months. That's how long you've been missing. No...dear gods, please, it can't be. Tomas felt sick to his stomach and felt like he was about to lose his balance. Kuai took a key out of his pocket and unlocked each lock with care. He then would open the door, in a haunting slow manor and then went inside.

The whole world felt like it was going in slow motion as Kuai entered the room and Tomas followed.

---

Kuai approached you, his footsteps echoing off the walls. Your vision was blurred thanks to the sting of your tears, you haven't cried this much since you were first taken. You feel a strange thing inside, hollow yet full of grief, empty yet overflowing with tears. You finally looked up to see him, Kuai looked down at you both calm and annoyed. "I don't understand you, Y/n, why do you this game up. Some days you're so warm, things are perfect, other days..." He trails off and angrily shakes his head. "I'm so tired of this Y/n, having to convince you how perfect we are together, how right your hand is in mind, and then you pushing me away. I don't think I can play this anymore."

He reaches out and strokes your cheeks, wiping a tear away, he eyes the mark on your face. A remorseful look spreads across his eyes and he softens, no longer angry at you. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes I just get frustrated, and sometimes I need to let it out. You made me do it, I love you so much, you make it so difficult to love you this much. If you would just be good then I would never need to do that." He pulled you in close, you cry even harder. "Shhhh, it's okay, Y/n" he comforts you. "I know your sorry, you don't have to say it, I forgive you." His coos gently.

He holds tightly, so tight that it feels like he could crush your ribs if you resisted, all you could do was continue to weep in his arms. The sweet scent you always knew him for now smells so repugnant your nose. At this moment you felt ready to die, ready to take any necessary steps to get away from Kuai. Maybe provoke Kuai into killing you. Tomas would be the last thing you thought of, the last name you cried out as you went.

You missed him so much, you wanted him, you needed him. It was all so bad that you started to imagine him appearing in the doorway, a horrified expression on his face. Oh gods, you missed him so much to the point of hallucination.

"Y/n...Kuai..." At this, you felt Kuai's muscles tense.

---

Tomas's feet felt heavy as he stepped forward. "Kuai..." He started, but he didn't know what to say, what would he even say? He stared at his brother, his arms around you as he was faced away from his brother. He looked you in the eyes, the giant bruise on your face as you red eyes spewed tears. If Tomas were to ever go to hell, this is what he'd see.

"Tomas..." Kuai addressed him, his voice unusually cold and distant. He slowly rose to his feet, and he slowly craned his neck around to look at his brother. Kuai face was solemn and knowing, as if he anticipated this happening. A hint of a remorseful shadow looks over his face for a moment before fading back into a stern look. "What is this? What did you do to Y/n?! What is happening." Tomas demanded with a shaking voice. His eyes darted from you to his brother finally resting on Kuia, being sure to look him in the eyes. "You...you were keeping Y/n here, all this time...it was you!" Kuai just nodded silently as he returned Tomas's horrified gaze.

"Why...WHY!!" Tomas's voice vibrated off the walls. Kuai closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Tomas, you have to understand, I never meant to-" "Why!?" Tomas interrupted. "Because I love Y/n!" The room fell silent for a second. Tomas's vision was blurred with fresh tears starting to burn down his face. "I love Y/n, I love her in ways that you can never comprehend, Tomas, and seeing you two together...do you have idea how maddening that was? How painful to see the one I love with another?" Kuai himself began to shed a few tears as he stared down his brother, his voice was also getting shaky. Tomas looked at his brother through a new disturbed look. Kuai knew that the day would come where he would have to reveal everything to Tomas, he knew To as wouldn't take it the best. But the look he gave Kuai hurt more than could ever anticipate. All the brother could do was stare other down.

"Kuai, please," Tomas begged as he slowly approached Kuai. "Let Y/n go. Please, I'll let Y/n go too. For her safety we'll both let her be free, away from us, where she can be happy." Kuai's eyes widen as he backs away, being sure to block Tomas's path to you. He shakes his head, "No..." He bellowed, "I want Y/n, I can never let her go. Y/n belongs with me, not you, not anyone else, me."

At that second, you rise up quickly and stab Kuai in the back. While he was embracing you, he didn't notice that you had gently slipped his kunai from his side. Kuai let out a scream as he drugged the blade into his flesh and fell to the ground. For sadistic pleasure, you twisted the blade just a little bit causing him to whine in pain. He looks at you, heartbroken and betrayed. "Y/n..." He moans in pain, the tears fall even heavier. He gives you a longing gaze as he seems to go unconscious, you return his gaze with disgust.

Tomas stared at his brother, nothing could come to his head. The whole world felt like it was frozen again. His brother laid there bleeding out, you stared at him too, a sense of relief seemingly washes over you. "Y/n!" He stammers as he rushes at your side, and he embraces you, "Are you okay?"

His scent, his warmth, everything you've missed so much. "No...I'm not." You thought you missed it at least, but you felt so empty inside, you wanted to be happy so badly, but Kuai took all the joy from you in all those months he spent holding you captive, torturing you with hunger and loneliness. All you wanted right was to hold Tomas tight, cling to something, anything that would bring you some peace. You felt so filthy, so broken, now all you wanted to feel was Tomas's warm flesh as you wept. You honestly hoped Kuai wasn't dead, death was too good for him. After all he put you through, you wanted him to suffer all the more.

You bury your face deeper into his chest as you continued to sob and clung to him desperately. "Everything's going to be okay, I'm going to get you out of here and everything's going to be okay..." He stared at his brother's bloody body, his eyes fixed on Tomas and you embracing, tears continued to fall from his eyes. "Everything's going to be okay..." he repeats to you, his voice shakier as he cries harder.

[lucreziaces]

thinking about how cesare's feelings for lucrezia got colored romantic because of rodrigo's ambition and him pinning the two oldest boys against each other and never showing cesare affection, thinking his eldest son was stronger than juan and that juan needed his gentleness and affection more. but the thing is, cesare did need his father's love and because he never showed it to him, cesare found that kind of affection elsewhere. in lucrezia-- her adoring gaze, her soft fingers playing with his chin or the strings of his clothes, in the way she melted into his touch. and of course he began to feel unnatural things for his sister (she felt safe in only his arms, sought out his advice on love and marriage because she trusted only him) and of course he didn't fight it, maybe he even encouraged it when he shouldn't have, but it wasn't with malicious intent. he didn't know what it was he was feeling, what she was feeling until it was too late. by then the damage was done, and as he himself said, "impossible loves.....I am very much afraid they can become an addiction". it wasn't like he wanted to feel these things for her. but how could he not when she was the first to understand he was miserable in his role in the church ("don't be sad, brother. maybe papa will become pope and you can be who you want to be"-- in their very first scene together!!), the only one who didn't run from his dark side-- she embraced it, even, and weaponized it when it suited her (and he was happy to let her, even using her desire to see their brother dead as an excuse to kill juan for his own ambition), creating this idea that he could trust only her to love him. I think, to him, it seemed pure enough not to question it even when there was undeniable sexual tension brewing between them because, above all, he just wanted to protect and serve her because their father wouldn't (and just because that is how he shows his love/how she receives it), and shower her in sweetness, with gentle touches because that's what she deserves (and because that is the other way she receives love & he shows it. speaking of love languages? i've geniunely never seen a ship have such perfectly complimentary love languages the way these two do!?! like oh my god?!! she wants someone to serve, protect, idolize her & show her gentleness? he does exactly that. he needs someone to love and adore him unconditionally & shower him in affection? she fits that 100% AJSKGLHGSLD but I digress lol) anyway....all this to say: do I really think cesare groomed lucrezia? no. or, at least, I think that's oversimplifying it. it was out of either of their control, and a direct result of their father putting his ambition above his love of his children. it's really fascinating how those daddy issues pulled ceslu closer together where it shoved a wedge between them and juan. (i'm sure @lucreziahelaena would be the more appropriate choice to write up an essay on the juan aspect of it all, though hahaa)

have I mentioned they're my roman empire? (because they are lol) <3333

[1989withstyle]

Whenever I see Tarry fics, it always makes me happy to read because y’know what? Yeah their not a perfect couple by any means but Tim and Darry get each other in a way most people don’t. They understand having to play the role of both brother and father. Of wanting to do more for their siblings, but can’t due to circumstance. They keep their families together even if they don’t always believe that themselves.They’re path together is filled with bumps but they’ll figure it out in the end because they always do.

Then contrast that with Paul and Darry and yeah…there’s no way those two ever had a chance. Paul has too much anger and hate inside, and Darrel loves the gang and his brothers too much to ever leave them.They’re falling out was bound to happen and bound to be nuclear when it did. To the point that whatever fond memories they had of each other became ruined beyond repair.

MEANWHILE theres Keith Matthews and Darry, two boys who are opposite in every way. Two-Bit is the lost boy who seems set on being forever sixteen. Whereas Darry ‘Superman’ Curtis has had to grow up in ways the other boys didn’t. The two grew up side by side, closer than even Steve and Soda at one point. Yet when High school hit things changed in ways neither of them expected.Darry grew up to become the Golden Boy of Tulsa,the Captain of the Football team, and furthermore one of the few greasers who has a chance of leaving Tulsa. The kind of guy that everyone is desperate to follow after.

While Keith Matthews becomes Two-Bit, a no good greaser to most who causes all kinds of trouble. Who’s too lazy to even clean up after himself, much less try hard in school.The two play their roles so perfectly that from an outsiders perspective you wouldn’t even know they were friends. They both know better though, especially when on certain nights Two-Bit sneaks into Darrel’s room. The two laying together and whispering all sorts of secrets to the other. On those nights Darry starts to act more his age and smiles, the same smile that makes Two-Bit feel things he know he shouldn’t. It doesn’t help that when Darry laughs at one of his jokes, he can feel something stir deep inside of him. Especially when he looks at him with such soft eyes, to the point that Two-Bit thinks he’s prettier than any blonde he’s ever fooled around with.

When the Curtis parent’s die, things shift between them once more. Except unlike in high school where they could wait for each other, one day Two-Bit turns to find Darry’s miles away from him. Both physically and mentally, Darry’s older in a way that Two-Bit could never be. He has more important things to worry about now, and Two-Bit understands like he always does. Except Two-Bit has always been wiser and more observant than Darry when it comes to people. He knows whatever they could have had, can’t ever happen now. Especially since Two-Bit is too self aware of himself to know that he won’t ever be the partner that Darry needs. Not this Darry at least. This Darry needs someone that can support him, not someone to take care of.Yet that doesn’t stop him from trying as he’s desperate to hold onto Darry for as long as he can. Trying to crack a joke or two to see just a small glimpse of that smile of his. Trying his hardest to try and remind Darry that he’s still there.Until the day he eventually gives up and stops waiting for him.

The two care and love each other BUT I can’t ever see them lasting as a couple. Honestly them even becoming a couple is a huge stretch. They’re not just best friends, but they’re not quite a couple either. They are a secret third thing that they could never figure out. Unfortunately for them they spent too much time trying to find the answer,that the small opening for them has long since been closed. Don’t get me wrong their still friends, but they can’t ever be anything more.

(P.S: this was heavily inspired by the very long rant I sent to @pumpkinsy0 about these two. Their a real trooper for reading it all 🫡.)

[manicpixiefelix]

These specific gifs of Louis Garrel in The Dreamers makes me think of Felix Catton and his oral fixation 🚬

also just makes me think of an OC in the Head Heart Hand 'verse who's a French friend of the L/N Siblings. By which I mean, they're friends with benefits and they still have that chemistry which makes Fi jealous.

Jamie had been working as the assistant to a renowned stylist when he'd first met the siblings, at least that's what you all tell Felix when he shows up at Oxford a week and a half before a gala event you and Oliver had been complaining about for a week already. Now his old boss simply works with your parents, and Jamie works with the two of you. Jamie is beautiful and well dressed and you and Oliver interact with him in a way that makes Felix feel a spike of jealousy whether he sees the casually affectionate way you all touch each other.

He's perfectly polite and incredibly warm to Felix, even affectionate at times - what beauty you've found, my loves, is the first thing he'd ever actually said when you introduced Felix to him - but occasionally his voice drops low and teasing as he says something to either you or Oliver that makes Felix wish he understood less French. Because he really didn't need to know just how unprofessional your relationship really was.

Christ some of the things he'd overheard were absolutely fucking filthy. Its also incredibly hot, yes, but that just makes him more conflicted.

"Is something wrong, lovely Felix?" Jamie's voice is quiet but vaguely distracted as he's taking Felix's measurements. Felix was going to be attending the gala with you and Oliver; it'd be the first of many, and Jamie was more than happy to pull together a look for him too at your request. He's got a cigarette poised between his lips, but Felix is looking at the roof, because if he looks at Jamie he's going to think about all he'd been overhearing in the past few days. You all think he doesn't understand, clearly.

"No problem," Felix lies and hopes it's convincing. Like he's not thinking about how the gentle hands sizing him up have pressed you up against the walls of countless dressing rooms, or been wrapped around Oliver so many times that he'd apparently lost count, "no problem whatsoever." If he bites any harder on the stem of the lollypop in his mouth he's pretty sure it's going to break.

Jamie hums non-committally, but Felix knows he doesn't believe him. Still, the next thing he asks is if Felix had any specific clothing textures that bothered him - like the darling siblings do, he clarified - and Felix thinks for a long moment. He doesn't think so, at least none he's adverse to, but -

"No no," Jamie cuts him off, "you will feel luxurious in my clothes," he assures, leaving no room for argument, like it's an order, "you will trust me. But you're saying there's nothing I could put you in that would make you want to rip it off your skin immediately because it would feel bad?" Felix shakes his head, mouth pressed to a thin line. Jamie fixes him with a coy smile, petting his cheek, "you make me feel lucky, lovely Felix; you make a beautiful muse." The genuine compliments make him feel worse for the blatant jealousy.

So maybe Felix makes a point of sticking close to you and Oliver more than was strictly necessary, at the pubs each night and the club when you all finally head to London on the weekend of the event.

"Jealous boy, look at him," he hears Jamie mumble in French as you've all occupied a roomy bathroom stall to do a few lines of coke. Felix's got you in his lap, lips against your shoulder while Jamie's leaning against the wall with that beautiful fucking smirk. You and Oliver both giggle, and you turn and press a kiss to Felix's temple while your brother takes the mirror and rolled up bill from your hands.

"You're making him jealous on purpose," you respond in kind. Jamie's gaze on you is close enough to leering that Felix can't help but start pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Can either of you blame me?" But Jamie still looks away, grin widening as you turn properly to meet Felix in a messy, passionate kiss, "obsessive little lovers you both are, always have been," he accepts the mirror from a grinning Oliver when it's offered, "maybe I should be jealous of lovely Felix."

"Maybe you should be," Felix breaks the kiss, turning to Jamie with a challenging look in his eyes as you mutter a flustered 'ohmygod' and Oliver gives an embarrassed giggle. All three of you come to realise that Felix has been fully aware of everything you've been saying since Jamie had arrived.

Jamie himself just smiles wider, meeting Felix's challenging gaze almost like he's proud.

(also Jamie falls for Farleigh pretty much the minute he sees him btw. Like Oliver fell for Felix in the film, Jamie sees Farleigh and is immediately enraptured. He asks him if he's done any modelling as the first thing he says after his name (and is delighted when Farleigh admits that he has, back in the states). Farleigh is at first bewildered by the attention - he's pretty and self aware but this is the kind of attention Felix usually got, it feels strange receiving it, rather than observing it - but quickly finds himself enjoying the attention. But also there's something very beautiful about Farleigh and Jamie together, they probably have a little fanclub of their own. They buy each other drinks at the pub like it's a competition half the time, but they end up side by side on the leather booth by the table, definitely too close (in much the same way that you, Felix, and Oliver often were, even surrounded by the rest of your friend group) tipsy and flirting in French while half their friends just kind of admire them.)

[buckets-and-trees]

Hello! Congrats on the milestone!☺️

If I could, can I request a meet cute prompt at a cafe? I was thinking with either Bucky Barnes or Sirius Black🤔 I understand you may be busy and sometimes the idea just flows better for one character compared to the other so if it’s ok I’ll just leave you with this?😁 Congrats once again!

Honestly, I could go either way...

Thoughts are brewing - many thoughts - for this prompt being applied to Sirius, but I can see a very distinct scene for it with Bucky right now.

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: post-TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count:  1.1k Summary: As much as things have changed, they've also stayed the same, and Bucky's just living a normal life in Brooklyn on an ordinary day, starting with morning coffee. Content Warnings: a little meet-cute fluff, nothing but fluff Additional Notes: This will be the FIRST SQUARE for my Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - B3 "Old Married Couple". Literally this is just another cute coffee shop meet cute but I picked this long-haired version of Bucky, but I liked spending time with this soft version of Bucky for a few minutes, so I hope you enjoy him, too.

The way time passes fascinates Bucky. How could it not when he was born in 1917 and sitting in a café in Brooklyn over a hundred years later still in the prime of his life – a Brooklyn that’s got pieces of old and new, and both are familiar to him now. It’s been almost a year since he was pardoned, and his hair has finally grown out again, but it grows fast, and he’s cut it a few times. He only started coming to this spot in his neighborhood a month ago, but now that it’s settled firmly in as a piece of his morning routine, it’s starting to feel like it’s always been the place to supply his morning coffee and pastry. His coffee order is always the same, but he does branch out on the baked goods. Bart and Tina – the brother and sister who own the place – never fail with what they decide to bake each day for their customers. Bucky recognizes quite a few of the faces himself now. He’s even talked to a few of them – but not many, because they are all New Yorkers after all, and so some don’t want to be bothered with more than a nod.

There’s an old married couple – George and Evelyn – who come in together on the weekdays. They both still teach at the university, not quite retired yet, but they’re younger than Bucky, born in the post-WWII boom. It’s strange to think if he’d lived a normal life, he probably would have had children growing up right alongside George or Evelyn, and yet they speak to him in a very paternal way, asking after him each morning now.

He would be dead and buried, but since he’s been frozen and literally pulled in and out of time, only now is he finally thawed out and warming up to life. Things are steady, normal. He’s only taking a few missions, and so he’s starting to fill in the pieces of what the rest of a life could look like. He started volunteering at the library and there’s a position coming open that he’s being encouraged to apply for. He doesn’t need the paycheck, but he thinks he would like the stability of it – contributing to something, being needed, and for something practically anyone could do.

Bucky feels an awkward twinge, glances up, and looks around. He’s not the only one who noticed a disturbance in the normalcy of the café as he notes others are looking up and uncomfortably watching an atypical scene developing between a couple of people waiting for their orders near the pickup counter. A man in a sharp business suit with perfectly sculpted hair is speaking to you with more and more urgency as you try to naturally sidle away to other parts of the waiting area. Bucky’s seen you just two or three times come in and get your drink to go, so he thinks you’re probably new to the area, but this man clearly bothering you is unfamiliar to the morning crowd Bucky has become familiar with.

Something about the man reminds him too much of John Walker, of all people, and when that realization registers in his head, Bucky’s up and moving without even thinking.

“Oh, there you are,” he says, drawing close enough to put his hand gently on your shoulder. “I must have missed you coming in. I got us a table over there if you want to sit. I’ll bring your drink over.”

He can see he’s startled you, your eyes a little wide as you turn away from the stranger to look at him, but you do seem at last glad enough to have him give you an elegant exit from the situation with the finance bro. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Oh.

You know who he is.

He makes sure to keep a casual expression on his face as you walk around him toward the table he’d indicated. Bucky gives a gruff nod to the man who’d been badgering you and the man nods back. They’re of a similar height, but Bucky knows he’s got the muscles and glare to best him in any situation. Bucky pointedly looks him up and down and the man turns slightly and pulls out his phone to immerse himself in something and disengage from the situation. He can feel the atmosphere of the café return to normal.

Bucky looks back over at his table, and you’re just sliding your chair up to the table, your back to him. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised to still be recognized now and then. As much as he’s trying to blend in, he knows the Avenger part of his identity is part of public discourse, especially since his pardon trials when even more of his past was presented and up for debate.

“Bucky?” Tina slides a drink and a small plate with a croissant and jam on the counter. “Here’s that order,” she says. She pointedly turns the to-go cup so the side where Tina’s written your name is facing Bucky and gives him a wink and a warm smile. She knows Bucky, while friendly, doesn’t go out of his way to talk to the other patrons.

When Bucky sets your drink and croissant on the table and takes his seat again, he glances over just in time to see the other man look over at the two of you without appearing to look and the frown on his face grows. And with that half second now past, he can focus on you in front of him.

“I didn’t order anything with my drink,” you protest.

“A little something from Tina, then,” Bucky reassures you. “She likes to take care of her regulars.”

“Oh, that’s – she’s nice.”

Bucky likes the small smile that brings to your face. “I’m sorry I got you out of one undesirable situation only to make you have to sit with me until that guy leaves,” he says.  

“Maybe I should thank him,” you respond with a nervous laugh, ducking your head a little. “I noticed you the first time I came in, was a little starstruck, and I was determined never to come back, but the coffee’s too good and too close to my place, so I said I’d just get my drinks to go and never embarrass myself trying to figure out how to talk to you.”

“So, then I shouldn’t tell you that guy’s walking out the door right now and you’d be free to leave if I want to talk to you for a few more minutes?” Bucky asks.

“I should probably stay here until I finish this coffee and croissant just in case he’s waiting outside.”

“Sound logic,” Bucky agrees, and the two of you relax into your seats, and time both speeds up and slows down as the conversation unfurls between the two of you.

[shinidamachu]

Speaking of SessKik, I’m actually starting to really low-key get into that ship. Ngl, at first I thought they might be a little too similiar and cold to ever really work together but I remember someone explaining the appeal of the dynamic in that it’s basically two prideful racists coming together/clashing and having to subvert their preconceptions of the other’s race and each other. Plus the fact that they’re both fundamentally lonely people but extremely good with kids (Yashahime Sesshomaru will never be my Sesshomaru) could give them something to bond over. Also what’s more taboo than a Miko being with a hanyou? How about an honest to god full-blooded youkai instead?

The ship would honestly be great character development for the both of them because they’d be forced unlearn and unpack their prejudices by basically confronting their mirror self.

It's precisely because Sesshomaru and Kikyo are so similar that they would make such a great match. Inuyasha and Kagome are only opposites on a surface level. Deep down, they're actually very alike and that's why they work perfectly together: they're different in every possible way except for the ones that matter, the ones that could make those differences irreconcilable. Sesskik would the morally gray version of that.

The fact that they're both stoic, pragmatic, arrogant, self-centered and prideful characters allows them to understand each other better than anyone else ever would because they operate in the exact same frequency.

Not only that, but putting them together would have made perfect sense, story telling wise. They're both lone wolves with similar goals and similar ways to achieve them, acting on the sidelines. Plus, they share the same soft spot for children — as long as the children in question aren't related to them, it seems — and have special bonds with Kohaku and Rin. It feels only natural that they'd team up at some point.

Then, of course, there's the fact that Kikyo is dead and feeding off women's souls while Sesshomaru is the only character to have a sword that brings people back to life and a parent with ilimited access to an amulet that opens and closes portals to the underworld.

I know her situation is more complicated than simply snatching a soul from hell — for many reasons — but in a series such as Inuyasha, where everything is possible, is not really a reach to theorize that if someone had the means to really bring Kikyo back from the dead, it would've been Sesshomaru. Even if he couldn't, the idea of the two of them interacting is still thematically intriguing.

There are also rumors about an interview where Takahashi said Kikyo is the type of woman Sesshomaru would take romantic interest in and I can't help but agree, since the only woman who canonically caught his eyes was Kagura, an independent woman who was smarter than him — which isn't very hard —, had a lot of guts and just wished to be free, a woman he couldn't save even though he wanted to. It's not hard to picture Kikyo in the same role.

The tragic way Kagura dies by Naraku's hand, therefore ending any romantic development with Sesshomaru, could become a parallel with the tragic way Kikyo died by Naraku's hand, therefore ending any romantic development with Inuyasha, the brother Sesshomaru despises. The room for angst and conflict is amazing.

To me the appeal lies exactly on the point you made: the creative choice of putting Sesshomaru and Kikyo together would pay off in great character development for the both of them by subverting their preconceptions of each other and unlearning the prejudice they still held against each other's races.

I love the idea of Sesshomaru finally making enough progress to love a human in a romantic way, someone who would see him not as simply his father's son, but as his own person, like Kagura did.

I love the idea of Kikyo falling for a demon without the safety net of eventually turning them human, someone who, in the most extraordinary of ways, makes her feel evey bit the ordinary woman she always wanted to be.

They would have been able to see through each other's poker faces and feel actually seen, in a way they haven't quite been seen before: for everything that they are. Not just his father's son and not just the embodiment of purety and perfection in the shape of a village priestess.

Sesshomaru and Kikyo are equals. There are no power imbalances, no idealizing each other, no putting each other on a pedestal because they refuse to acknowledge each other's flaws. They're both intimidating people who can not be intimidate by each other and would be totally comfortable being themselves around one another without fear of judgement or putting their partners in a position where they have to constantly make up excuses for their behavior.

Basically, they could have helped to progress each other's character development and pushed the plot forward while still making thematic and narrative sense, with the plus of fixing most of the things that personally bothered me in Inuyasha and Kikyo's relationship.

It's funny because at the same time I have complained about how much I hate that Inuyasha doesn't feel like himself when he's with Kikyo, acting all reserved, sad and cautious, without his signature fiery temper and dog like mannerism, I've seen people gushing about how mature he is around her and outside I'm like "to each their own", but inside I'm screaming: Sesskik. You want Sesskik!

It also doesn't hurt that they're aesthetically pleasing to look at: elegant, lethal and composed. And Takahashi seems to agree there was wasted potential there because it very much looks like she tried to make up for it with these Mao characters. Yes, I know same face syndrome is a thing and so is coincidence, but come one, now.

Their separate personalities didn't call out to me but together they could have made a very interesting dynamic, even if it was only platonic, because asexuality, aromaticity and homosexuality still fits them very well and wouldn't be an impediment for the found family trope and being single is different from being lonely.

I understand the reasons Takahashi didn't go there, though, because it would have taken real work to make it right and to be honest I've always been more invested in the Inugang, anyway. But the potential was there.

[divinemare]

-ˏˋ⋆ 𝔄 𝔠 𝔬 𝔲 𝔯 𝔱 𝔬 𝔣 𝔤 𝔬 𝔡 𝔰 𝔞 𝔫 𝔡 𝔪 𝔬 𝔫 𝔰 𝔱 𝔢 𝔯 𝔰 ⋆ˊˎ-

└──» ✎ 。 Azriel x Oc

part eight

┊✧*｡ ✯┊☪︎⋆✧*｡ ┊

Azriel had heard it from Rhys first, the male's daementi power reaching into his mind to tell him. But still, Azriel refused to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.

His palms were sweating as his heart pounded hard in his chest. His shadows hid part of his face and body in hopes of concealing his master's unease. There was no way he could calm his erratic nerves as he waited, and waited, and waited.

Until he saw her. Entering the room, with her eyes, normally full of life and curiosity, staring at the floor, lost and unsure.

He almost let a gasp escape as he saw the tattoo that wrapped around Mareena’s arm and disappeared into the shoulders of her shirt. It wasn’t just any kind of tattoo, Azriel recognised it perfectly as a bargain mark.

“You and I are going to cause your dear father an outburst when he sees you with that,” Rhett laughed cruelly, taking Mareena’s arm in his hands and stroking the tattooed skin.

An inexplicable wave of rage coursed through his body, but Azriel kept his gaze fixed elsewhere so as not to look directly at Mareena.

“Shadowsinger,” when he heard the High Lord calling him, Azriel had to muster his most rigid expression to finally be able to look at him. “Would there be any trouble now that Miss Mareena is joining us? I know you two might have been…close.”

Azriel looked at Mareena, who finally had raised her head from the ground as if just realizing he was there, it was just a split second, but he felt a lump in his throat he had to swallow before looking back at the male with no emotions at all.

“None, Sire.”

Oh, there were already a thousand fucking problems going on in his head right now.

☪︎⋆

Mareena had been presented to the Court of Nightmares. And what an awful fucking place.

She had hated the second she had stepped into it. The High Lord made her change her clothes into some trousers and a top in the Night Court style she loved, but the fabric, even tho it was a beautiful shade of shiny purple, was almost transparent. The top didn’t had the right sleeve, so to reveal the tattoo that curled up her arm, while the transparency of the fabric allowed it to show where the tattoo finished at the back of her shoulder.

She was paraded as a new weapon, a new adquisición, and it all fell all too similar to her fathers dungeon, where he showed her off to his awful friends.

But there was one thing that made everything less horrible, one person. Azriel was constantly, all the time, near her. Even if he had to act like he didn’t care for her, every time she was standing in one corner, shadows caressed her arms in a soft, comforting way. And in every glance they stole from each other across the room, she saw the trouble in those beautiful hazel eyes.

“So she’s what, your new guard?” Keir, Mor’s father, and Rhys’ uncle, asked his brother with a horribly unnerving smile towards her.

“Something like that, yes,” the High Lord nodded slightly, looking at her from head to toe.

Their bargain had left many questions in Mareena’s head. She was to be his new blade, his new weapon. He had said she had a power that not even she could understand herself, and that he would use it as he saw fit, using her against his enemy and anyone that would want to attempt against his crown.

Mareena was simply a weapon to be yield, something to brag about.

Oh, if he knew what she had been capable of before she locked the bigger part of her power inside her…

“What is she, anyway,”

“I’m not sure yet, I guess we’ll know once I see her father next week, but she’s Mother damned powerful, that is.”

A sense of terrible dread filled her entire body at the horrible realization; she was going to see her father again. After all those years running as far away from him as she could, she was going to be forced to see him again.

Panic started settling in her chest, now she was under the relative protection of the High Lord of the Night Court, the bargain she had made for eternity not allowing her to ever leave the Court.

She had to advert her eyes from the two males staring at her in hunger and cringe at the thought of being trapped between her awful male of a father and the awful male that now basically…he basically owned her.

What had she done. What had she accepted. She had traded an evil for another evil, and she wasn’t sure which one was the worst of them.

The panic started to intensify in her chest.

She retrieved to a dark corner in an empty space, she had to calm herself down or she was going to make of herself a bigger spectacle. But the realization of her whole situation was just settling down, and it all was fucking terrifying.

Suddenly, while her chest felt as if it was about to burst out and her breathing became more rapid, a calloused hand grabbed hers and squeezed slightly.

She didn’t startle at the touch; for she knew it all too well. She had held that same calloused hand a thousand times after horrible Nightmares, had held it while she got out of the woods when she fell into that same hole in the ground six times. Those hands had touched her face and healed her wounds when she trained a little too hard with Mor or simply got an injury for doing something incredibly stupid.

She squeezed Azriel’s hand in return. His body hidden in shadows, while she stared at the party with a raised chin and an expression she had learned from the very male at her side right now.

No, being her father’s captive couldn’t be the better evil than this. Because there, nor Azriel or Rhys or Cassian or Mor or Alhena and Valeria were with her. In there, Azriel would never hold her hand like this again, and so she held tight into that hope, held tight to his grip.

Because there was no holding back now, but as long as she had her family, she would not let the panic take over her.

☪︎⋆

Her hands were so sweaty she couldn't wipe them no matter how hard she tried. Nerves were eating her alive, taking over her heart and her entire nervous system. But Azriel's words echoed in her head like a safety mantra she repeated every time she felt her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

"Don't let them see your fear, don't let them take hold of your fear. It is yours, and yours alone."

It is mine. Mine alone. Mine. Mine....

She repeated herself over and over again as she walked behind the High Lord of the Night and his Lady through the corridors of Adriata's castle. Where the meeting of High Lords was to take place.

High Lords…Her father would definitely be there, and her brothers...she didn't know. Rhys wasn't there for the obvious fact that they were at war, and he was too busy leading a squadron to attend these ridiculous meetings. But her brothers were not warriors, Mareena knew all too well, and if they were there too....

At least Azriel was at her side, and Alhena was one step ahead; that was enough to keep her from panicking.

When the doors to the hall opened, Mareena took a deep breath, before being greeted by the image of the 7 most incredibly intimidating men, exuberant with power. Everything inside her trembled in terror, and that power that activated whenever she felt a latent threat pulsed nervously in her veins.

Mareena swallowed dryly and raised her head, forcing her power to remain silent and obey her command.

“Rhett, what a great pleasure you finally decided to show up,” his voice made something feral and wild alter her every insides.

Something she hadn’t felt in a long while, something she had hoped she never had to feel again. But there she was, years after everything she had went through to escape, standing only meters away from her father.

Her blood fell cold and her breathing started to catch up in her lungs. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t brave enough, she…

She felt a little push at her back, and by the way those hands made her skin feel hot and her chest to squeeze, she knew perfectly well who had it been.

Discreetly looking at her side, she saw Azriel’s impassive face, his scarred hands were at his side, but his shadows slightly twisted. She tried hard not to smile, to copy his same emotionless expression, but it felt almost ridiculous, by the way her heart was absolutely betraying her with its heavy rhythm.

Mareena gave a step closer, then another, and then she was close enough for her father —and, her three older brothers, alongside their mother—, for them to see her.

She would never forget their expressions, the absolute masterpiece of the utter shock and disbelief in their pale faces.

“You…”

“Is something wrong, Jalus? You look a bit pale,” The High Lord of Night said condescendingly.

Mareena stared at her father’s eyes and did not avert her gaze with a stolen bravery she did not know where she got from.

“You had her all this time,” her father stood from his seat, his eyes almost out of their pockets.

“Who?” Rhett pretended confusion, and then he looked back at her, as if understanding. “Oh! You mean my beautiful goddess?”

Mareena saw a flinch of something similar to surprise in her fathers eyes for a split second, but it vanished so quickly she could’ve had imagined it, only anger was left in his deep green eyes.

Mareena almost cringed at the nickname. “Goddess”, that’s how the King of Hybern had called her once.

“Who is the beautiful lady, Rhett?” A dark skinned male questioned, a brow lifted in amusement, and Mareena almost gasped at his beauty.

It was as if the sun had taken human form. All its light and roughness and power molded into an almost too rough, yet too perfect male.

“Gentlemen, I don’t see how my company would be of any of your interest, but if you’re all too curious; may I present to you my newest acquisition, a true goddess come to live, just as beautiful, and just as powerful. Mareena, darling, would you come forward?”

He signaled with his hand, and she had no option but to obligue. As she passed by Alhena, the female softened her gaze a split second, telling Mareena she had nothing to worry about, her mother was right beside her, and so she lifted her face just as the female had taught her, and faced her father with unbothered eyes.

The four males squeezed their jaws so tightly she thought they may break at one point, while the Lady of Spring merely…stared at her, Mareena couldn’t exactly decipher in what way. There was no sign of Tamlin whatsoever. Good.

Then her father’s eyes lingered in her bare arm, where the bargain tattoo curled up in a beautifully tragic way.

“Oh, you did not.”

“You bitch,” one of her brother’s laughed drily, and all the other five High Lords stared at her arm all at once.

“Hello, father. Brothers.”

“Father?” The perfect sun crafted male said with amused surprised, and then threw his head back in laughter.

“Father? So she’s the girl your little bitch of a son almost killed mine for,” another male said, his voice so cold she felt it freezing her insides.

Mareena adverted her eyes from her father to look at her side, where a male, pale as snow, with hair as moonlight, sat with a raised white brow. Everything about him was pure coldness, from the way his glacier blue eyes stared at her, to the way his every feature seemed to be as sharp as ice. Besides him, tho, was a male that made Mareena’s heart pound with excitement and nostalgia, a male that almost stole a smile from her lips, hadn’t she been so scared to show anything but complete unbothereness in front of all those people.

Kallias stared at her with cold eyes, but behind them, she saw the same as she felt; the nostalgia, the relief of seeing each other again. It had been so long ago that he found her almost dead in the frozen woods of the Winter Court.

A female that she could only guess was his mother sat at his father’s other side. An impossibly beautiful female that looked too bright, too sweet to be what she imagined of a Lady of Winter.

Wait a second, Kallias had been attacked by one of her brothers? Mareena regained conscious of what the High Lord of Winter had said, and a wave of rage and guilt cursed through her, making her look back at her former family with more will in her eyes.

She took a moment to scan the room at last. Everyone else was extremely confused as they stared at them, the sun god; the dark skinned male, seemed to be enjoying all of this way too much, another dark skinned male, one Mareena could only guess, by his clothing, was the High Lord of the Court they currently were on; Summer, seemed to be completely lost of all context. The one red head male looked completely annoyed, with a gorgeous female at his side that simply looked lost and a little red haired boy who clung tightly to his mother. Then there was a tanned male with a scrutinizing gaze, the one that had to be, by her own conclusions, the High Lord of the Dawn Court, as if he was paying extra attention trying to understand the drama that unfolded in front of him. And Kallias’ father, who stared sharply and bone-freezingly towards one of her older brothers, the one in the middle, the one she hated the most, Reed. So he had attacked Kallias, she was not surprised at all. He used to beat her up too, very often.

The memories of it made her feel that same wild outbursts of feelings threatening to shatter her gained calmness and control. She felt the heat in her face before she realized her hands itch with the necessity of letting her power burst. She felt a light brush of a delicate hand in her arm, and a murmur of softness in her ear. Both Azriel’s shadows and Alhena’s touch brought her back to the necessary control.

“So what, are we going to ever start the important meeting at hand, or you’ll just stay there and stare at each other? Because I would love to go back to my business if that’s the case,” the red haired male said with a bored look.

Her father took a deep breath, Rhett laughed slightly, amused by his own twisted games, and Mareena did not lowered her head until her father arched a brow.

“Glad to see you’re alive, child,” oh, he was anything but glad, and everyone could clearly see it.

“Couldn’t say the same, to be honest,” she didn’t know where all that insolence had come from, but she was satisfied of it when she saw her father’s jaw so tense it almost snapped.

Rhett and that sun male laughed out loud, her brothers stood all from their chairs but their father stoped them immediately. She saw from the corner of her eye how Kallias smiled slightly, quickly taking his smile away but winking at her.

Then she felt the shadows again, caressing her skin with soft proudness, delivering the message from their master.

“That’s my girl.”

[funkii-fox]

ngggngh…………….. top 5 keicho ships…..

This is a tough one bc i feel like most Keicho ships don’t work tbh. But the main theme in all of these is i like abusive dynamics :3 thats what i like abt Keicho hes so abusive <3 and if not abusive then tsundere, at least.

Akira x Keicho- mmm toxic yaoi. I like to think that Akira doesn’t know how to cope w liking a guy and he’s rlly annoying to Keicho. Constantly trying to fight because winning against Keicho would prove to himself that he doesn’t actually like Keicho, he just wanted to fight. Keicho ignores all of Akira’s shenanigans, not only bc hes not the type to engage in drama, but also because he wants his weird little crush to fade away QUICK. And neither will ever give in so there’s this odd tension in their rivalry. || And if they do start dating, i like to imagine its toxic due to problems in their compatibility. Neither can find a middle ground. Akira is too x, y, and z and Keicho is too a, b, and c. So a lot of fights and arguments mmm. I think all their fighst would boil down to who’s stronger and more dominant, and the winner would be different every time. I think they’re enemies and lovers

Okuyasu x Keicho- gguhhhh i have a thing for incest ngl. I like to think that Keicho abuses his authority over Okuyasu in all types of fucked up ways. And Okuyasu not only stays but is perfectly accepting to it all, like the good dog he is. I imagine he would defend Keicho’s actions every chance he gets, no matter what anyone else says. His big bro can’t be that bad, right?? || but I want the opposite at the same time. I wanna see them love tenderly. I want Okuyasu to be the only person that can see Keicho’s soft side. Its them against the cruel world. Only they understand each other. In this version, Keicho would be more tsundere than abusive. Kinda mean but you know he loves Yasu deep down. I also think there’s something beautiful about two family members having a tooth rotting sweet, yet taboo relationship.

Josuke x Keicho- i wanna see Keicho show that pretty boy who’s boss!! I wanna see that pretty boy get ruined by Keicho. I want him hurt and degraded. I wanna see Josuke become a pretty little obedient ken doll for Keicho.

Yukako x Keicho- yeah i made this one up. But i think it would be so fucking amazing to see how Yukako, someone who is overly loving, be w Keicho, who is very mean. I can see Yukako being a very obedient victim to Keicho, exactly as he wants. She’s so eager for Keicho to like her, she does anything. But all hell breaks loose whenever she isn’t happy with something. Since Yukako seems to be very affectionate, i imagine thats where the problems start. She wants to hug and cuddle and Keicho isn’t about that. Ultimately, i feel that Keicho is stronger than her so she doesn’t truly have a chance, but it doesn’t stop her from throwing tantrums. No beating in the world can stop her. The only thing that would quell her wrath is actually giving into her request. They are both incredibly stubborn, which would cause all types of problems. || Or maybe a non-abusive route, i think it would be cute to see them learn how to love normally. Keicho would be introduced to the concept of affection and Yukako would learn how to manage her emotions. They could both learn how to compromise in a relationship. Keicho could get out of his comfort zone by holding her hand, and Yukako could settle for that until he’s ready for more. LMAO imagine Keicho blushing hard while holding her hand 💀 And i think it would teach them how to fucking chill out too. Another reason i like this ship is bc i hc Akira to be Yukako’s shit head older brother. And this ship, abusive or not, WOULD NOTT please Akira. It would intensify the beef between Akira and Keicho. “Yukako, get AWAY from that guy. What is wrong with you?!???? HE STABBED YOU WITH THAT DAMNED ARROW!! YOU COULDVE DIED AND HE WOULDNT GIVE A SHIT!!!!” And the only thing Yukako can do is roll her eyes. “What’s Akira’s problem??”

Hazamada x Keicho- tbh, i dont rlly like this ship (ESPECIALLY bc a lot of ppl mischaracterize haza and keicho 😑) but i can see the appeal. I guess i like the idea of Hazamada liking a guy thats unapproachable, but i feel like this idea could be better with Josuke instead of Keicho. Idk. Maybe getting bullied hard by Keicho would be nice to see. Idk. I already made haza x kei hcs before

[taruchinator]

💭 General Audiences

💭 3k Words

💭 For the #TWEWYSecretSanta2022 event!

A small platform was incorporated into the box as a stand for the plushies, which were all aligned perfectly next to each other and attached by yarn so that they wouldn't fall. Rhyme stared wide eyed at the variety, with Beat taking a few peeks here and there.

What immediately caught his attention was a particular doll at the very back.

The cat plushie wore a sleeveless purple tank top, white cargo shorts and a yellow wristband around it's tiny paw. But most telling of all, was what was placed on its head— felt-made purple headphones.

“Yo, Shiki. Is that supposed to be Phones?”

Greetings once more, dear friends! 👋

You'll be seeing lots of me in these few days all thanks to my love for joining events, even during the Holidays— such as this wonderful TWEWY Secret Santa! ❄

This story was created for @stumblynn, who wanted some BeatNeku and I'm always happy to deliver on that~ I really hope you like this one, since I had lots of fun with it!

Thank you to the mods of @twewysecretsanta for organizing this!

If there was one thing Beat didn't understand, it was fashion.

He was the type of guy who would stick to the basics and simply wear whatever he found most comfortable, not really caring for the way it looked. Sure, he had favorite shirts or sneakers with cool designs on them, but that was about it.

The entire industry from different brands, to what was ‘trending’, or what was considered fashionable was completely beyond him.

But considering that one of his best friends was a successful fashion designer, he figured he could always give it his best whenever she needed help. And this was one of those instances, even though technically he wasn't the one who was asked for assistance.

A few days earlier, his little sister Rhyme had gotten a text from Shiki asking if she could come to her home to give her opinion on a new line of toys she was working on— an exclusive lineup only available for the holidays.

Why would Shiki be making toys of all things? Because these would be Mr. Mew character themed plushies, and the brunette was mostly working on designing the clothes and accessories for each little cat doll.

Rhyme happily agreed, feeling excited to see Mr. Mew again along with other adorable doppelgangers. The only issue was that the brunette was only available in the evenings due to her tight working schedule, and Beat still had his reservations about letting his sister go out alone at night. The Reapers' Game was something that really helped in making one more paranoid than usual, after all.

Because of this, the youngest sibling asked Shiki if it would be alright for Beat to tag along, to which the Gatto Nero founder had agreed on instantly.

And so, that's how they ended up in their friend's apartment waiting for a Mr. Mew runway.

“Oh Shiki, this is so exciting! I can't wait to see what you came up with!” Rhyme's voice dripped with glee as she kept swinging her legs back and forth from the chair she was sitting on.

Beat couldn't stop the soft smile that spread across his face as he chuckled lightly. “Is good to know my little sister still likes this sorta stuff.”

A blush spread across the blonde girl's cheeks as she rolled her eyes and lightly punched her older brother's arm. “Of course I do! Shiki makes amazing things, plus I'm trying to be an objective customer here!”

The oldest chuckled once more as he raised his hands in defense. “Whateva you say, sis!”

“Alright you two, I appreciate the liveliness you bring to my home, but I believe someone is all set and ready for you!” Shiki's voice cut between the siblings as she finally returned from her sewing room, holding a large box with a white curtain covering the front and placing it as gently as she could on top of the coffee table.

Rhyme's attention was quickly brought back to the task at hand as she started clapping and smiling like a child on Christmas morning. “Yes! Let's do it!”

Both Beat and Shiki chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm. It was always so infectious. After a moment, the brunette proceeded to adjust her glasses and give a quick bow before her guests as she proudly presented the cardboard box. “Miss and gentleman! May I present Gatto Nero's very first and one of a kind— Mr. Mew Plush Winter Collection!”

As soon as the words left Shiki's mouth, she pulled back the curtain to reveal the dolls inside.

The inside of the box was decorated to look like an actual runway, adorned with wintery items such as snowmen and mistletoe in the background in the form of drawings. A small platform was incorporated as a stand for the plushies, which were all aligned perfectly next to each other and attached by yarn so that they wouldn't fall.

Rhyme stared wide eyed at the variety, with Beat taking a few peeks here and there.

He recognized some of the figures the cat was dressed as. A few from what he'd seen around Shibuya and others based on some of Rhyme's interests— he was also pretty sure he recognized a character from that one game Rindo liked thrown into the mix.

What immediately caught Beat's attention however, was a pair of plushies that remained in the back of the display.

These weren't as detailed as the ones on the front, most likely earlier versions of what Shiki had actually intended to do with the plush doll idea.

The first doll had a black beanie with a large skull imprint on the front. It's clothes consisted of a simple sleeveless white tank with loose light brown cargo pants, as well as what seemed to be tiny accessories like a chain necklace and spiky wristbands.

If he didn't know any better, Beat would think that Mr. Mew was dressed like him from a few years ago.

It was the second doll however, that made him stop and have to do a double take.

The cat plushie wore a sleeveless purple tank top, white cargo shorts and a yellow wristband around it's tiny paw. But most telling of all, was what was placed on its head— felt-made purple headphones.

“Yo, Shiki. Is that supposed to be Phones?” The blonde stood from his seat on the couch and pointed at the Neku lookalike with wide eyes.

Shiki was caught off-guard for a moment— a confused look on her face, until she turned to where her friend was pointing, and a blush quickly spread across her cheeks as she giggled. “Oh! That's where I left those! Yeah, they're actually meant to be you and Neku.”

Rhyme leaned in to take a closer look, and let a smile grace her lips as she saw the dolls. “Aww, I can totally see the resemblance! The expressions are so on point, too~”

“Haha, I'm glad you think so! To get used to sewing clothes on a smaller scale, I tried starting with patterns I was familiar with.” The older girl picked up the Mr. Neku doll and tugged at the small wristband while giving a little wave. “Beat and Neku's outfits back then kinda got imprinted in my head, so it was a no brainer. Plus they were lots of fun to do as a warm up!”

“Well I think these look great for being warm ups!” Rhyme picked up the Mr. Beat plush and wiggled its arms around with a smile on her face, which in turn brought a smile to the teen's own face.

“You guys can have them, if you want! I was planning on you taking one as a thank you for your troubles, anyway.” Turning towards the older sibling, Shiki raised a questioning eyebrow as she held the Neku plush. “Not sure if you'd want this one though, so feel free to pick another, Beat!”

Taking one final look at the plushie in her hands, the blonde couldn't help but agree with his sister's earlier statement. The expressions were quite uncanny.

As he stared at the familiar grumpy face of Mr. Neku, Beat chuckled and gratefully took the doll from his friend's hands. “Nah, 'is cool! Wouldn't wanna ruin the set. He a cute little fella, anyway!”

Both Rhyme and Shiki exchanged looks at that statement, causing Beat to raise an eyebrow in confusion, until the words replayed in his head and red immediately covered his face. “I-I'm talkin' 'bout the doll, yo!”

“Sure you are, big brother~” Rhyme said in a sing-song voice, to which the brunette couldn't contain her giggles as Beat huffed in annoyance, cheeks still dusted with a hint of pink.

Moments like these really reminded him of the glory days from when he was an only child.

The Mr. Neku doll had come in handy more times than Beat cared to admit.

After searching for his best friend in the confines of the UG for more than two years, the blonde still had his fair share of nightmares recalling the traumatic experience of not only seeing him die in front of him over and over, but also picture scenarios in which he never found him in the first place and was still out there looking.

He tried keeping these to himself, especially from Rhyme since he didn't want to worry her— although he had a hunch that she already knew to some extent.

One night however, after waking up in cold sweat from one of these regular night terrors, the teen's hand instinctively reached for the feline plushie and held it against him as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat. In a matter of minutes, Beat was sound asleep, with nothing but pleasant dreams filling his subconscious.

It didn't take long for the boy to notice the pattern of how whenever he'd sleep with the Mr. Neku doll he'd have good dreams, while if he slept without it, the nightmares would come back full force. As such, it became a habit to never go to sleep without his good luck charm by his side.

Why was this method effective? Maybe because having a physical reminder that his friend was back safe and sound was exactly what his mind needed to find peace. Maybe it was also because the doll was just too darn cute and resembled Neku in more ways than one, and only intensified the blonde's feelings for the other boy even more.

But he would rather die and go through the entire Reaper's Game again than admitting that out loud.

“I'm heading out! We need more milk. Do you want anything?”

Rhyme broke through the silence that was her older brother's thoughts as he sat down for dinner, scrolling aimlessly through his DMs after answering back to some of their friends about a meet up the following week. He raised his eyebrows in question. “What'cha goin' out for? We can just call mom and pops if somethin's missin'.”

The teenage girl reached for her backpack hanging by the entrance and turned to the boy with a smile. “Kaie messaged me to meet up. Something about a new app he's developing that he wants my thoughts on. So, I figured I could just stop by on the way.”

Beat chuckled as he pushed his almost empty bowl of rice to the side. “Looks like my little sister's turning into a real big shot programmer someday! Don't forget about the little guys like us when that happens, 'kay?”

Rhyme rolled her eyes, but smirked in her brother's direction as she unlocked the door. “I won't, don't worry. I wouldn't be able to forget you even if I wanted to~”

“Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!”

“I think it means you're good at leaving an impression.”

The third voice caught the siblings off-guard for a moment, until they realized who the figure at the door was. Rhyme smiled and went for a hug instantly. “Hey Neku!”

“Hey, you guys! Sorry for barging in, the door was open so…” Neku chuckled as he returned the younger blonde's embrace. After that, he turned upwards to address the oldest sibling on the far end of the room, waving a couple of notebooks in his hand. “Thought I should stop by and return these.”

“Dang, you done already? Took me weeks to learn all that algebra shit for the test!” Beat chuckled as he stood from his seat and walked towards the duo.

After returning to the RG, both he and Neku had lots of catching up to do, and among those matters was the dreaded subject of school. Beat was lucky enough to have an incredibly talented genius sister who had taken notes from all his classes thanks to the permission given to her by the principal.

Neku however, wasn't as fortunate. Because of this, the blonde had insisted that the other boy copy his notes to get up to speed on all subjects. That was a mere two weeks ago.

“As much as I'd love to sit here and listen to how copying my poor brother's notes went, I have somewhere to be. It was nice seeing you, Neku!” Rhyme chimed in and quickly headed for the open door. Reaching for her pocket, she pulled out her keys and phone for Beat to see. “And yes, my phone is fully charged.”

Before either boy could say anything, she closed the door behind her with a soft click.

“Can't believe how grown up she is. Not like she and Shiki weren't more mature than us back then too, right?” Neku broke the silence as he turned to his best friend with a small smile.

Beat couldn't help but nod and stare at the door with a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “You can say that again, dawg. Rhyme's always been independent, but now 'is like she's goin' at her own rhythm, ya know? Makes me wonder when she won't be needing me anymore…”

Neku sighed at that statement, and quickly placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder. It was a… comforting touch. “Like she said, she couldn't get rid of you even if she wanted to. And something tells me she doesn't want to, especially when she's got someone like you caring so much for her.”

In another circumstance, the blonde might've blushed at such a comment, but he tried his best to keep it cool and just return a smile instead despite the increasing sound of his heartbeat. “Thanks man. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime. Anyway, should I just leave these in your room?” The red head smiled but then changed the subject as he pointed at the notebooks that were still in his hand.

Beat nodded and quickly made his way back into the kitchen as he replied. “Yeah, fo' sure! I'ma heat you up some rice to take home, too. We gots too much left over, so it shouldn't go to waste!”

Neku grinned and headed for the room he had been to many times before. “Very thoughtful of you. Your mom told you to say that to any guests that come by?”

The blonde merely huffed. “So what if she did?”

Another chuckle resonated as Neku disappeared from Beat's field of vision. The blonde rolled his eyes, but still grabbed a small container from the clean dishes and began scooping chunks of rice until it was full. Once he closed it off, he reached for a plastic bag and gently placed the container inside for easy travel.

His mother would definitely be proud of the handiwork.

Taking the bag with one hand, the older boy headed for his room and placed it on one of the drawers with a grin decorating his features. “Trust me man, if anyone knows how to do some good rice, 'is my mom! You gonna be beggin' for more once-”

The words were immediately caught in Beat's throat as he saw Neku standing by his bedside, holding a very familiar plushie between his hands. His mind went blank as he began mentally kicking himself over not remembering the furry companion that now lived with him.

There was just no logical explanation for either how or why Beat had something like this in his room, but all he could do was try to save any dignity he had left as he began mumbling his story. “O-Oh, that! Yeah so um, Shiki was workin' on some weird dolls a-and she asked Rhyme for help on how they were goin' and this one was one of 'em! S-She gave it to me and well, I just, I-”

After rambling for what felt like ages, Neku silenced the blonde in one of the most bizarre ways he could've imagined— by placing Mr. Neku's muzzle against Beat's lips.

Beat's eyes widened in confusion, until the other boy turned to him from behind the doll and smiled softly. “If you wanted me as a cuddle buddy, all you had to do was ask.”

At that statement, the implication behind the innocent gesture finally clicked in his brain and the blonde's cheeks lit aflame as he scrambled backwards. Neku chuckled at the other's expression and started rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. “Guess I'm gonna have to ask Shiki when that Mr. Beat doll is gonna be ready, cause after seeing this guy, I really want mine too.”

Beat stared as the blush began to subside. “A-A doll? Fo' you?!”

It was Neku's turn to blush as he adverted his gaze to the floor. “What can I say? The idea just sounded really comforting when she suggested it. Although, I'm sure it wouldn't compare to the real deal…”

The blonde stared for a long time, until eventually the thought of Neku sleeping with a Mr. Beat doll was far too cute to pass up. He smiled sheepishly too— scratching at the back of his neck as he stared at the boy he grew to be so very fond of. “Well… why not test it out?”

It was safe to say that the duo had a wonderful rest that night, with Rhyme having to tiptoe around the house to prevent the sleepy teens from waking up. Not before taking a picture to share with her brother later, of course.

Neku was right. Cuddling next to the one he loved was a far cry from doing so with his plushie doll.

And even though Beat would be keeping Mr. Neku, along with Mr. Beat once he was complete, the blonde was glad to know that he could reach out to the real deal in times of need, even more so after realizing that perhaps they were more similar than they had previously thought.

If the next day was filled with embarrassing comments and unstoppable teasing from his sister along with their friends who she gossiped to, he would just have to handle it.

After surviving a Reaper's Game, everything else seemed a little less scary, especially when he wasn't at it alone.

✧ TWITTER ✧ INSTAGRAM ✧ AO3 ✧

✧ WATTPAD ✧ KO-FI ✧

[thornfield13713]

KIRKWALL REUNION 🥺

The people have spoken! Let's see if I can do the idea justice.

...I'm not sure I did, to be honest, and the ending is definitely rough and will need improvements before this series is ready to post on AO3, but...here we are.

Lirene’s Fereldan Imports was a small, shabby sort of place, not much more than a hole in the wall - though still leagues above the conditions in which most of Marian’s countrymen had found themselves. There but for the Maker’s grace went they, Father would have said, but Marian had never been much of a believer in the Maker’s grace to begin with, even before the Blight. Anders had always been the believer, between the two of them, and now he was gone. There but for one slip, one chance, one lucky brawl in the Gallows when they were fresh off the boat. It was easy to forget, in all the grief that had attended their flight from Ferelden, just how soft a landing they’d had by comparison.

Marian rapped her knuckles surreptitiously on a wooden table, and counted out five sovereigns for the donation box sitting out conspicuously near the door. Carver caught her doing it, and scowled a little and, yes, all right, Marian knew why. But Marian was superstitious enough to want to leave a tithe for fortune, and this seemed a better place for it than the Chantry poorbox, which was always overflowing and yet never seemed to get used.

They had to elbow their way through a crowd of other refugees to get to the front of the queue - attracting no small number of dirty looks on the way, only to stop directly behind a skinny woman whose brown hair was already streaked with early grey, though she couldn’t have been very much older than the twins.

“My mother’s in labour,” she was saying, the words tumbling over each other in their haste to get out. “The baby’s come early- Can anyone help her?”

The woman behind the counter nodded. “I’ll send word to the healer, but-”

“My son’s hurt bad,” another man cut in, “Cart overturned on him in the blasted Bone Pit-”

“Everyone in your turn. I promise, we have donations coming in. There will be food and medicine for all of you-”

Somehow, in the heaving of the crowd, the three of them had ended up at the front of the line. The shopkeeper turned to them, looking frazzled.

“If you’re seeking aid, leave your name with my girl. We serve everyone here - no-one came from Ferelden without trouble.” She folded her arms, and fixed them with a very stern look. “But I can’t give priority to anyone who’s already found work and lodging.”

“That’s fair,” Marian said quickly. “But that…isn’t what we’re here for. I hear you know where I can find a Fereldan Grey Warden?”

The woman - presumably Lirene - snorted. “Only Fereldan Grey Warden I’ve heard of is sitting on the throne. We’re out of the Blight’s path now. Why would you need a Warden?”

“The healer was one of ‘em once, wasn’t he?” the girl with the mother in childbirth cut in excitedly. “A Warden?”

Lirene turned on her like a- well, like a hawk. “Well, he’s not now, and busy enough without answering fool questions about it.”

“Who are you protecting?” Marian asked, as gently as she could manage.

Lirene’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “You see what our people face in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes. Most can barely buy bread. This healer, he serves them without thought for coin. He’s closed their wounds, delivered their children…he’s a good man. I won’t lose him to the blighted Templars.”

Something ached in Marian’s chest at that. Back in Ferelden, she wondered, would Lirene have even looked twice at a mage being dragged away, healer or no? Somehow, she doubted it. Certainly, no-one in Lothering would. They’d had their share of near misses, before the Blight.

“I understand,” she said, a little hollowly. “But he’ll come to no harm from us.”

“R-right,” Carver agreed. “Perfectly safe if he cooperates- Ow! What was that for?”

“What my brother means is, we would never give someone up to the Templars. Never,” Bethany said, the steel coming into her voice now. “Isn’t that right, Carver?”

“Ow- Yeah. That. That is what we mean. I guess.”

Lirene looked between them, then sighed.

“I suppose it isn’t my secret to keep. Anders has certainly been free enough with his services-”

For a moment, Marian could not believe she’d heard right. But then-

A wild, irrepressible, agonising flood of hope welled up in her, in a place she’d thought had long run dry.

“I- I’m sorry, did you-” she swallowed, her mouth dry. “Did you say his name was Anders? You’re certain that was it? Definitely ‘Anders’?”

Lirene’s brow furrowed. “Yes. Unusual, I know, but-”

“I- Is he-” She couldn’t- It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t- More than a year now, he’d been gone. He couldn’t have been returned to her like this. The Maker was not so kind. And yet-

How many could there be? A Fereldan, a mage, a healer by that name-?

“Maker,” Carver muttered. “Marian, you can’t keep torturing yourself like this-”

“I’m not sure I follow…” Lirene said, in a dangerous sort of tone, and Marian forced herself to calm, her fingers white-knuckled where they still gripped the fox-head amulet about her neck.

“I- Is this healer of yours a- a tall man - taller than me - with light hair and amber eyes and-” The image of his face flashed into her mind again, just as it had been that day in the woods. “...and the most ridiculous smile you’ve ever seen? Who loves cats, and…and laughs at his own jokes, even when they aren’t particularly funny?”

It had driven her mad sometimes, those jokes. Now, she would have given almost anything to hear them again.

Lirene’s eyes narrowed.

“...he is a tall, fair man,” she allowed. “But I’ve never seen him smile. Let alone laugh.”

It could be him. It could still be him. It was almost worse than an outright denial.

“Here, is this him?” Bethany asked, reaching up to unclasp her locket, and flicking it open under Lirene’s unimpressed eyes.

The little portrait inside was maybe a bit too small to get the fine detail, but- there he was. There they all were. Mother and Father, in the days when Father had still been alive and Mother’s hair had still had some black in it, Marian and Anders, wrapped up in each other the way they had been all of that first year they’d been married, and the twins, gawky adolescents still growing into their coltish limbs.

Lirene peered down at it, and then looked up sharply.

“...that…does look like him. Who are you, exactly, that you were looking for a Warden in general, and not him by name? His sister?”

“His wife,” Marian corrected, without really thinking about it. It cost real effort to keep her voice steady. “I- I thought he died at Ostagar - we were both there, he- we were separated during the retreat…please, if you can tell me where to find him-”

“Of course.” Lirene looked relieved. “I…suppose this explains it. He always seemed like he must have lost even more than the rest of us, but he never spoke of- Well. I hope I have this right. Refugees in Darktown say to look for the lit lantern. If your need is great enough, Anders will be within.”

Marian didn’t hear her own reply. She wasn’t altogether sure she’d said anything at all. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Alive, he was alive. She wanted to laugh and cry and dance and also, incidentally, strangle him for making her grieve so long.

She felt Carver’s hand settle on her shoulder.

“It might not be him,” he said, a bit gruffly.

Bethany, on her other side, snorted. “What, another Fereldan apostate healer named Anders? Who just happens to look exactly like his portrait?”

“That thing’s tiny, anyone tall and blonde would look about the same in it-” Carver gave Marian’s shoulder another squeeze. “Let’s just…let me keep my hopes up that it isn’t that unbearable prick come back from the dead?”

His voice was a little strained from the effort of pretending to be jovial about it, but Marian appreciated the effort.

“Well,” she said, a little unsteadily, glancing around the shop. Far too many eyes on them, too many eyes on Bethany, it wasn’t safe- “Whether- Whoever he is, we need to speak with him. We should…probably pick up our new business partner, too. He’ll want to- That is, if this healer is- isn’t who we- who I hope it is…”

“I’ll get him,” Carver promised, “We’ll meet you down in Darktown, then?”

Marian managed a jerky nod.

Alive, he was alive. He was alive and…a Grey Warden, somehow, which was- that was new. Did Wardens even marry? Or was the symbolic death of joining up enough to cancel that out as well?

“It’s him,” Bethany said, as soon as Carver was out the door. “I’m sure it is - who else could it be?”

“...I don’t know.”

But she couldn’t- Hoping had been a torment, all the weeks and months they had spent in Gwaren, waiting for a ship or for word from beyond the Brecilian Passage. Even now, she found herself reaching cautiously out for it, as if afraid she’d get her fingers burnt if she seemed too eager for it. It would be so much worse to let herself hope and then-

She forced a smile for Bethany, and straightened her spine, squaring her shoulders.

“Come on, then. Let’s see if you’re right.”

*

Of course, they were intercepted almost as soon as they were out of the store, and only a hasty reassurance that they meant Anders- meant this healer no harm let them get away without bloodshed, their would-be assailants apparently not having heard the tail end of the conversation.

And now they were here. Darktown. The first time Marian had set foot down here since she’d left Athenril’s employ. She couldn’t say she’d missed it.

It could hardly be said that the place didn’t live up to its name, either. The place was even more of a maze than Lowtown, a warren of cramped tunnels, almost pitch-dark, so that nothing could be seen of anyone or anything but deeper shadows against darkness. Marian could almost smell the chokedamp in the air, but…only faintly, here, not the killing mist that had left Mother confined to her bed for more than a month, and from which she was only just now starting to recover. And if it got any worse- Well, that was what the handkerchief trick was for.

Varric and Carver were waiting for them by one of the tunnel entrances, and neither of them looked happy.

“Well, I brought him,” Carver said gruffly. “And I really hope that’s actually you this time.”

“Little Hawke’s said that to four or five different people already,” the dwarf put in. “Had a bit of a misunderstanding there for a minute with a couple of old friends from the Carta.”

Marian didn’t need to be able to see his face to know that Carver was scowling.

“How was I supposed to know people around here’d be willing to fight me to save your neck?”

“I’m likeable, little Hawke. You ought to try it sometime. Nice to see you again, Foxy,” he added, nodding at Marian. “But…uh…any particular reason it had to be down here?”

Marian paused, trying not to breathe in too deeply, or through her nose.

“Carver didn’t tell you? A- Your Grey Warden is down here.”

“We’re to look for a lit lantern, whatever that means,” Carver put in.

“Easy, then,” Bethany said quickly. “Just follow the light. If there was any light, I mean.”

“We should stick together,” Marian cut in. “Everyone, get a hold of the person next to you on either side. Let’s really ruin the day of anyone trying to get past us.”

“Do I have to?” Carver protested.

Marian shrugged. “I mean, if you would rather get lost down here in the dark, I suppose it is your decision, but-”

“Maker! Fine, fine, I’m doing it. Not one blighted word about this, dwarf!”

“Now, would I do a thing like that? We’re all following your lead, Foxy!”

No pressure at all, then.

It was times like this that Marian missed her father most of all. If he’d still been here-

If he’d still been here, they’d never have fled to Kirkwall at all, she reminded herself sharply. Their first plan had been to make for Amaranthine or Denerim, still in Ferelden but not as directly in the path of the Blight. It wasn’t until after- after he was gone that Mother had set her heart on Kirkwall.

Father wasn’t here now. It was just Marian. So she would just have to try and be enough.

She put a hand to the nearest wall, grimacing in the dark at the awful, slimy, slippery feeling of it under her fingers. “...all right. Let’s see if I remember the way around. If I’m right, we should be going…this way.”

Directly into a dead end, as it turned out, and the less said about the moment she’d put her hand on something warm and furry and shrieked, the better, but eventually they got turned around in the right direction, enough to find a set of crudely-carved stone stairs, and start making their way up into more-travelled areas, where the lichen glow was enough to see your hand in front of your face by. 

There was a faint glow coming from somewhere up ahead that promised they were heading in the right direction, not the gold of lantern-light, but something stranger, an odd blue-green light almost, but not quite, like lyrium glow. And, as they stumbled up onto a higher platform, Marian could see it. The walls here were alive with something blue-green and glowing, casting an eerie, sickly light over the tunnels, and over tents and bedrolls, low smoky cookfires, and people. Far more people than Marian had ever expected, some sitting hunched around the fires, some just standing, waiting, some lying apparently where they fell, curled up in nests of rags if they were lucky, or just lying prone on the hard stone, sleeping or dead.

There were others, too - well-armed shadows in armour, human or elven or dwarven, marked out by the way they moved as much as by their armour as they pressed purposely through the crowd, and everywhere they went, the rest of the people scattered before them, shrinking into the shadows as if afraid to draw notice. The stench was well-nigh unbearable - raw sewage, too many bodies too close together, fear and desperation, piss and vomit.

And this was where Anders had hidden? Fastidious Anders, who had fussed over his hair and clothes and whined about all the mess involved in farming? Anders, who had hated the dark, and enclosed spaces, so much that some nights even their room at home had seemed too tight for him, and they’d slipped out into the fields to lie under the stars and talk until he could breathe easily again. Marian couldn’t picture it, couldn’t- It might not be him, she reminded herself. She would not let herself believe it was him. Not until she saw his face with her own eyes.

At the back of the line, Varric was complaining again.

“You know what I love about the Undercity? Absolutely nothing!”

“I can’t imagine the people who have to live here like it very much either,” Bethany retorted.

“Oh- You know what I mean, sunshine! Just because other people are miserable down here doesn’t mean I have to come down and be miserable as well.”

“You were the one who wanted a way into the Deep Roads, we’re getting you a way into the Deep Roads,” Carver said flatly. “Stop whining about it.”

“I am not whining, Junior, I’m just pointing out that if I were a Grey Warden, I’d find somewhere a lot cooler than this to hide.”

The people were scattering in front of them, too, Marian saw. No doubt taking them for more Carta or Coterie here to cause trouble. They weren’t even that far wrong. Back in the day when she was with Athenril, they’d have been right to scatter. She’d always thought it was Athenril and her men’s reputation doing the work. She hadn’t quite realised that she herself must be almost as frightening.

The entire Undercity left to hunt for, and only the sign of a lit lantern to guide them. It wasn’t much.

“...asking around might lead to more trouble,” she said, more to herself than the others. They couldn’t rely on any other refugees being as willing to take her at her word as those they had met outside Lirene’s place. “Okay. Everyone keep an eye out for lantern-light…”

She had been prepared for it to take days. In the end, though, it was only hours. Hours of wandering dark tunnels, a piss-stinking handkerchief tied over her mouth and nose to filter out the worst of the chokedamp. Hours of arguing herself out of hope - Carver was right, any tall, fair man would look much the same in a portrait the size of the one in Bethany’s locket, even without five other people, a dog and two kittens to share the frame - but not quite being able to stop the hammering of her heart, the thrum of her nerves as tunnel after tunnel came up short.

And then-

They had come into a new section of the tunnels, and the far wall was gone, just a few haphazard boards and pillars between them and the sea.

“We must be right up against the cliff-face,” Bethany said, wondering, the smell of salt rising to mingle with all the rest of the smells of Darktown, as Marian screwed up her eyes to squint against the sun.

“And there’s the lantern!” Carver’s hand thumped down against Marian’s shoulder. “We found him! If it is him,” he added hastily. “It might not-”

“I know.”

“Well, we have to try, don’t we?” Varric put in cheerfully. “Unless you weren’t serious about wanting in on this expedition after all, which…I mean, I’d understand why two weeks down in the dark with Bartrand wasn’t exactly your idea of a fun time, but…”

Marian wasn’t listening. Another flight of stairs, across a low half-flooded platform, water soaking through her boots, up again, and then-

The lantern burned overhead, hanging on a low post in front of a pair of makeshift driftwood doors. Marian swallowed, tasting sea air, her heart in her throat.

“...well, are we going to go in, or…” Varric prodded.

“She’ll do it when she’s ready, dwarf,” Carver snapped. “Do you need a moment?” That was Bethany, stepping up to put a hand on Marian’s shoulder. Somehow, Marian had never quite stopped being surprised they were almost of a height now.

“No. Let’s have this done.”

The door swung open easily when she pushed it, and then-

A large, airy, open room, apparently carved straight out of the stone, full of makeshift cots and the smell of elfroot and- and a little cluster of people, over by one of the beds, a man in a heavy feathered coat stooping over a small body, blue-white light shining from his hands. Anders, Anders, Anders.

As they watched, the child on the cot arched up, and then sat, breathing heavily but easily, breathing, and Anders stumbled away, half-collapsed, leaning heavily on a pillar as one of the men who had been gathered around the child - now being embraced by two grey-haired women who might have been his parents - reached out to steady him.

Marian couldn’t help it, she moved forward, wanting to do the same, just as she always had back in Lothering, when a healing took a lot out of him. And then-

He must have heard them coming, a moment later, the staff was in his hands and he was rounding on them, one hand raised as if to cast - or ward them off.

“I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation! Why do you- Marian?”

“Anders.”

It was all she could say, the word punched out of her along with all the breath in her lungs. A moment later, she was across the room and in his arms. She felt the weight of that new staff against her shoulder, his face pressing into her hair.

“You cut your hair,” she said, muffled against a mouthful of feathers, and heard his shaky startled laugh in answer.

“I did, I- Maker, I can’t believe- How are you here? How-? I thought everyone died at Ostagar. I thought-” His voice cracked.

“So did I.” She felt the tears well up in her eyes again, when she had thought that well had run dry long ago, in the long weeks at Gwaren, or on the ship to Kirkwall, or in all of this last year of trying to step into her father’s shoes alone. “I’ve never been so pleased to be wrong.”

He squeezed her a little tighter, her fingers digging in deep at the leather of his new coat as his buried themselves in her red hair, pulling her closer still. He felt just the same as he always had, warm as a furnace. Thinner, perhaps, but so was Marian now, and the smell of him was still the same beneath the universal Darktown stench - elfroot and feathers and the cool scent of a coming snowfall. Marian buried her face against his shoulder and just breathed it in.

“Uh- Not to break up the moment,” Varric said behind her. “But could someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Anders startled, a full-body thing, and looked around. Marian did too, twisting as best she could to look over her shoulder without pulling away.

Varric looked absolutely poleaxed, Carver somewhere between pleased and resigned, and Bethany was beaming.

“I…ah.” Marian coughed. “Anders, this is Varric. He’s…we’re business partners. Varric, this is Anders. My husband.”

Varric’s eyes very nearly jumped out of his skull.

“Your- Wait, you’ve been married to a Warden this whole time and didn’t say anything? You’ve been married this whole time and never said anything?”

“Was it any of your blighted business?” Carver snapped, crossing his arms.

“Everything is my business, Junior! Foxy, I’m wounded - aren’t we friends?”

“...we are,” Marian said cautiously, though that was, perhaps, overstating the case a little. She’d known Varric less than a week at this point - that wasn’t really long enough to call anyone a friend, in her experience. Well- hardly anyone, anyway, she amended, glancing back at Anders just to check he was still there.

“If it helps,” Anders said, shifting a little against her to adjust his grip on his staff. “I wasn’t a Warden when I- when we were separated. They didn’t get me until later. I- I got swept up with Teyrn Loghain’s retreat,” he explained, returning his attention to Marian, a little crease forming between his brows. “It was all…very chaotic. I thought you’d be there with the rest of Bann Bryland’s men, but I couldn’t find you, and when I tried to sneak away once we got to Lothering I got caught at it. Nearly got hanged as a deserter.”

Carver snorted. “Five times escaping the Circle and you couldn’t manage getting away from the army?”

“They were watching the medics and herbalists like hawks. I couldn’t get clear until Denerim - and even then, only by…er…borrowing some armour and ‘going out on patrol’.” He swallowed. “I thought…maybe when the refugees started flooding in I’d find you, but- Why Kirkwall? I mean…I know you have family here, but Malcolm always said he’d never come back to this place-”

“He did.” Marian swallowed. “And…he didn’t. He- There was an ogre, on the road…Father…Father didn’t…”

She didn’t want to picture it. The broken body lying in the dust, the way they had been forced to abandon it with no pyre, no grave. Just bones on the roadside at the very edge of the Korcari Wilds, and nothing to say whose they had been or all he had done. 

“I’m sorry,” Anders’ voice was thick and raw. He had loved Father too, Marian knew - had found in him the mentor he never had in the Circle tower. “I’m so sorry- How- How is Leandra taking it?”

Marian’s eyes dropped. She didn’t- She’d always sort of known that once Father died, it would be up to her to lead. No-one had ever said it, but…somehow it had always been known. Still, she hadn’t been prepared for the way Mother had collapsed under the weight of that grief, so that Marian had had to take all that weight alone, without a guide or a word of advice. She’d always expected to be older, too, but-

Well. Things were what they were.

“I’m sorry. I should- I should have been there, I should-”

“You’re here now,” Marian interrupted. “I’m glad enough of that.”

A shadow passed behind Anders’ eyes.

“You…may not be, once you know everything,” he said, very softly. “But- If you weren’t…if you didn’t know I was here, why were you…”

“Oh, are we done with the family drama now?” Varric asked. He sounded almost disappointed. Marian half-expected him to have whipped out a quill and started taking notes. “Don’t feel like you have to stop on my account…” he paused, and then, when it became clear nobody was going to get back to providing him amusement: “We’re interested in getting into the Deep Roads. Rumour has it you were a Warden, which…you kind of just confirmed, so…do you know a way?”

“The Deep Roads,” Anders repeated hollowly. “I- I will die a happy man if I never think of the blighted Deep Roads again. You can’t- Marian, please, tell me you’re not thinking of going down there.”

“Mother’s had two bouts with the chokedamp this year already,” Marian said quietly. “A third might carry her off, and so long as we’re in Lowtown, that’s as good as inevitable. This is our only shot at getting out.”

Anders still looked faintly sick. “I…have some maps of the depths in this area. And if you’re going, I- Well, it’d be a shame to follow you all the way to Ostagar and then turn back now, if- if you want me to come with you, that is. You might not, once you- once you know everything that’s happened this last year. And there’s…” he paused. “I- I have something I need to do in the city. Tonight.”

“We’re not threatening to leave at once,” Marian reassured him. “What- What is it you need to do? Do you need any help with it?”

She didn’t want to leave him alone. She didn’t want to be parted from him just in general terms. It felt like the moment she looked away he’d be gone, and the miracle would be over, and the grief all the worse for being renewed.

Anders looked hunted for a moment, but then:

“I came to Kirkwall to help a friend. A mage. A prisoner in the wretched Gallows.”

“Karl,” Marian said softly, realisation dawning. “...well. That seems like the sort of job that would go easier with two than one. Are we breaking him out of the Gallows proper, or-” “Marian,” Carver hissed. “You can’t do that! What about Bethany? D’you want to bring the Templars down on her-”

“It’s not in the Gallows,” Anders said hastily. “I- I’ve been exchanging notes with Karl through a maidservant in the Gallows. She’s agreed to help him get out, at least as far as the Chantry. Probably a trap, but it’s the best chance we’re ever likely to have.”

[izartn]

Now that I made my read and my first post on CFC I want you all to have my review at NovelUpdates, from 2020, of when I finished The Legendary Master's Wife.

Not reccedt, this is a truly trash fire of a novel that: dragged in parts, treated it's women terribly while presenting the shou as practically a woman himself, there was much lack of consent and even care, the secondaries where caricatures, there's was a pokemon adjacent plot, where by the end I still wasn't sure if the two mains loved each other. They sure loved their position as the most powerful of their world though!

By the extras you also get the true gem of You Xiaomo meeting again his birth family in his world and you, the reader, discover his older brother was a brocon and also they did modern world low cultivation. The stuff of legends.

My English is a bit worse here bc it was 3 years ago, but perfectly understandable.

It was boring at parts and really interesting at others; I didn't really care all that much about the characters though because well... they are plane. However, what made me stick with the novel was precisely the MC and his ML. I'll explain: the MC starts pretty soft. He is a noob from our world, coddled but also without a warm family or friends. He wants to learn and is very diligent studying alchemy-soul cultivation but he doesn't have the minor idea of how this world works. Enter ML who has a very good idea of the immense potential of MC and has decided to make him his, to help with his secret plans. He of course exposes MC to all the ugly faces of the world, for much that MC doesn't want to. MC is also cunning and decides to follow powerful ML if nothing else can be done. Then the story truly starts. And what I found fascinating was how these two changed bit by bit through exposure to each other. Like MC is pretty damn helpless at the start, and throughout the story, he starts mimicking ML and adapting to everything that keeps happening to the point that he is like that violent converse who is more militant than the one born in his religion. It was astounding, what fear makes one do. ML of course, encourages this and is pretty happy of letting MC do his thing; they are soul-bonded and so is impossible to escape one another, even in death- one dies and the other will follow. That MC has decided bit by bit be more ruthless and powerful only benefits ML who after everything starts truly caring about the other. But really, is like mutual Stockholm Syndrome xD This and the fact that everybody powerful in the world of this novel is.. well, dark gray in morality scale at best made me see this novel as the descent of the MC. He becomes like the very person he was repelled by in the first arc, without caring very much for it, absorbing the values and the pride of his new world. Basically, if you see the novel through my lenses, MC and ML become the great overlords (this is true anyways) and ultimate Villains of their world. This is what made love the ending although it was pretty lackluster. I doubt the author intended my take on the novel, but is one that formed organically as I persisted reading through the hundreds of chapters. The fact that the characters themselves aren't very developed even helps this view; we are seeing people devoid of morals, of essence. They just have power.

Anyways. I look at this and about how very much this was not the take the author wanted me to have and I laugh. That's one of the enxt danmei they're publishing in English btw.

All those people being like, CFC is too much... CFC does what it does on purpose, and the development of HeXie was done carefully for Meatbun. You can hate it and disagree and stop reading, your prerogative, bc your taste is your taste and your squicks or more serious triggers yours, but it's on purpose by a writer that knows what she's doing even if shes very self-indulgent and misses the mark bc of it. I had a good time reading anyways.

Then there's books or danmei like TLMW.

(I was left with the urge of seeing blackened Xiaomo have Ling Xiao and the rest of the world at his mercy somehow. Revenge!!!!!)

[meanderfall]

give me twin jades of lan content or give me death

[pillow-anime-talk]

jealous kid.

request: can you write a headcanon of ‘free! highspeed boys’ (haruka, makoto, ikuya, asahi, kisumi, nao, natsuya) reacting to their s/o doing skinship with their male best friend? such as hugging and arm holding, but not in a romantic way, but in siblings way! 

# tags: headcanons; current relationships & friendship; soft romance; mostly fluff but also a bit of drama; oc!male-friend; skinship; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. kisumi shigino, nao serizawa, makoto tachibana, asahi shiina, ikuya kirishima, haruka nanase & natsuya kirishima {free!}

author’s note: oooh 👀

— KISUMI

↘ Kisumi has no problem with that. He’s a good and cheerful kid who really loves you and who doesn’t want to put limits on you.

↘ He also loves skinship with his closest friends, so he perfectly understands your need for closeness among other people (friends or family members). He also sees the difference between your body contact and that between you and your male friends whom you even consider older brothers. With him you are even more clingy, less tense and definitely more sensitive.

↘ The boy trusts you a lot and I think he is the type of partner who likes to capture your pleasant moments with the phone camera. That’s why your Instagram is full of photos of your friends who put their arms around you or lift you high up so you can see the nest with recently hatched chicks. He is a very supportive and understanding man who genuinely respects and sincerely likes your friends.

— NAO

↘ Nao is mature and he also has no problem with that. Nevertheless, unlike Kisumi, he keeps a watchful eye to keep any hand from breaching your intimate area on your body, such as your butt or hips. He’s the type of person who just likes it when someone shows another person respect, especially his precious partner.

↘ He knows your friends very well and is not jealous ‘cause he knows that the two of you have completely different – I would even say more sincere and stronger – feelings and emotions towards each other.

↘ He talks a lot to you about physical contact and he really loves it when you compare his hands to other men, and after a short while you praise his hands for being the most delicate of all and wonderfully well-groomed (especially when it comes to nails). He then considers it his small (big) victory.

— MAKOTO

↘ Makoto is always a little surprised at first and may even be slightly jealous, but when he sees your expression and hears your tone of voice, he knows he doesn’t have to worry about anything. After all, there’s a difference between your kisses and hugs and a high-five between you and your friends. These are two completely different forms of tenderness and relation.

↘ Of course, you talk a lot together and when your boyfriend says that something something is bothering him, you definitely respect his feelings and don’t do this form of skinship anymore. 

↘ Nevertheless, Makoto loves all your friends and is happy that they give you so much joy and support (in life, at school, at work, in a relationship, in family problems, etc.). I think like Kisumi, he takes a lot of pictures of you and keeps them in a special folder that he plans to use on your birthday or Christmas to make you a wonderful gift full of the best memories.

— ASAHI

↘ I imagine Asahi is not only ‘jealous’ of you but of your friends as well, and whenever he sees you hugging one of them, he does so too.

↘ Such a B I G baby.

↘ Asahi is just as affectionate and loving as you are and he has no problem with your physical contact with the other person, but remember – if you give attention to others, you have to pay attention to red head too! He loves compliments, kisses and long hugs. He’s very supportive and respects your every friend. Anyway, he would be a hypocrite if he forbade you to have male friends. After all, he himself has many female friends whom he treats as his sisters!

— IKUYA

↘ Deep down in his soul he is really, like seriously jealous. He hates to share very much and has a hard time accepting that anyone but him is your best friend. He perfectly understands your need to talk, meet and have physical contact with people close to your heart, but hello! He can give it all to you doubly, and it’s fine!

↘ You talk a lot and always say that it’s natural for you and there is no love or sexual connotation to it, and these boys are like family to you. You always add that you just like to feel someone’s presence next to you, whether it’s a real family member, pet, friend or your beloved boyfriend. You’re the type of person who always wants to be surrounded by loved ones and the vision of loneliness is worse for you than death.

↘ Ikuya understands this, but he always gives you an ultimatum (which is pleasant to both of you) – usually ten kisses for hugging another person.

— HARUKA

↘ Black-haired don’t think too much about human relations. It doesn’t matter to him if your friends are men, women, non-binary, younger or older people. It’s okay for him, although often after your meetings with friends, he asks you ‘Why you have such a relation with that particular person?’, ‘How long you know each other?’ and ‘Does this person also have a life partner?’. He’s just curious, although he doesn’t seem to be.

↘ He cares about your good relationship, so he doesn’t want to forbid you anything. In the same time, you always ask him to express his opinion about such things. Even if them could push you to change your behavior – after all, the relationship is a compromise for you and you don’t want your boyfriend to ever feel bad seeing you in friends’ arms (even if they are like brothers from another mother to you).

↘ But still – Haruka has no problems with your friends and if they are interested in sports (especially swimming) he’s willing to ask them to hug you more often just so he can talk to them about sports competitions or diet.

— NATSUYA

↘ He’s jealous, he’s very jealous! He is grumpy and snappy when you meeting your friends, but over time he understands that only friendship connects you and your male pals, and you two have a completely different type of relation.

↘ Although he will always look carefully at your male friends who hug you to greet you or pat you on the head for ‘Goodnight’, but then he remembers that at home you’ll be all his again and he will be able to hug, touch and kiss you without any problems while watching the next Disney movie or k-drama on a laptop.

↘ Natsuya is a big kiddo and he really don’t want to lose you (although you both know this will never happen).

[flyndragon]

Theres been a lot of chatting about how people don’t *get* xicheng. And that’s perfectly fine, everyone’s opinion is valid! But if your intrigued by the ship and want a crash course on why one loser likes them getting together post-canon, I thought I could provide a bit of an entry point!

So here’s 10 reasons I think they’re great:

1.  There’s a great dynamic where Jiang Cheng whispers ‘aren’t you tired of being nice, don’t you wanna go apeshit?’ And that’s something Xichen should give some thought to! He might decide that he does not, in fact, want to go apeshit, but he should at least know he has the option! And he can also look right back at Jiang Cheng and say ‘aren’t you tired of going apeshit, don’t you want to be soft?’

They both can only express like two emotions, but they're different ones so together they make maybe one emotionally functional person. Xichen needs an anger translator, and someone who will stick up for him when now he doesn't know if he can stick up for himself. Jiang Cheng needs someone with the emotional intelligence to differentiate grumpy affection and genuine anger, and Lan Xichen’s best friend was Nie Mingjue, who expressed affection similarly

 Also Jiang Cheng just needs anyone, give the man a break MXTX.

2. Both of them hate and have been hurt by lies. Lan Xichen knows that Jiang Cheng is like the opposite of jgy, he has never manipulated in his life, he just pulls out zidan. Jiang Cheng may not have as strong of feelings about the matter but he did just get golden core revealed and therefore appreciates lxc hatred of lies.

3. They are just unconnected from each others trauma enough. They both know the other is hurting but they haven't done anything to each other specifically. They can take a step back and reassure the other that what went through is fucked. Xichen probably appreciates that Jiang Cheng was not especially manipulated or hurt by jgy, so he feels he isn't responsible for any of Jiang Cheng's pain and he might be able to express his grief better like that? Jiang Cheng appreciates that Lan Xichen is completely unrelated to both his brother and his family issues. Seeing Lan Xichen isnt a constant painful reminder about anything.

4. But even though their trauma is disconnected, both had a brother kill someone or someone's they loved and then they killed their brother and everyone's expecting them to be happy about it but their not, their not. Also they both understand the weight of societal expectations from being heir, can understand the for the most part the sect comes first

5. Due to all of the above, Jiang Cheng is probably one of the only people alive post Canon who could actually get Lan Xichen to admit to his grief and sadness and the fact that he's not ok. Which Lan Xichen needs to heal! He needs to be poked and prodded in order not to fall back into his eldest sister syndrome pacifying, which got him (emotionally) into this mess to begin with!

6. In a similar vein, jiang cheng needs a soft place to fall. And he needs someone who won't invalidate him or dismiss his accomplishment (his parents), leave him (wwx), or die on him (fucking everyone he's ever loved). Xichen is extremely loyal when he gets attached. He won't jump to conclusions based on rumors. He will, in fact, assume the best of his loved ones until REALLY proven otherwise. He will defend the actions of his loved ones to others and keep loving them even if they might fuck up sometimes. Plus, he seems remarkably death resistant.

7. Outside of the internal emotion of the pair, their outwards strengths can also help each other! They both know what its like to lead a great sect and be a good sect leader. They can help each other out, even with mundane tasks.

8. Uncle-daddy solidarity (who do you think raised a-yuan when Wangji was in seclusion for three years and was also recovering from a near-fatal whipping?)

Related, they both care a lot about Jin Ling and want to see him succeed as sect leader jin (extrapolation for lxc)

9.Hnggggggg boy hot

10. It would probably piss lwj off so much can you imagine his fucking face. Hilarious!

 I also know that this list is based on post-canon but I think a lot of it applies to any point in the timeline if you put your mind to it!

I’m a firm multishipper so really this is just one facet of my extreme shipping ability. Don’t come at me if you don’t like xicheng, or prefer someone else, or a JC anti, please.

Anyone who ships them, please feel free to add on!

[oh-holy-slut]

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️